May 8, 2012

Today I broke up with my girlfriend, Kinana.

I was on my way to her house to pick her up for our date when I spotted her blue Toyota parked near a house a few blocks away from hers. Naturally, I was curious, she never parked her car anywhere else but her garage. So I walked over to the car, and heard loud moans and groans.

They increased as I neared the car.

I peeked inside and saw Kinana, who was under a huge guy with long blonde hair that reached down his back. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck. Her shirt was open, her skirt hung over the car seat. Her eyes were closed, she was moaning loudly.

I stared at her face, emotionless. No anger. No disappointment. No sadness. Not even disgust. I felt nothing as I looked at her face.

Her eyes opened, she finally sensed someone was watching her and her companion, and they widened when she saw me. She screamed, and the man on top of her mistook her reaction for pleasure and moved faster. She started hitting his back with her small hands and he finally stopped and looked behind him.

His red eyes widened in surprise, and he froze. I recognized him. Zancrow, a playboy, a member of the Grimoire Hearts, a group that liked to torture "nerds" and "geeks", and another group called Fairy Tail. The blonde had a thing for screwing guys' girlfriends. He went to the same school as me, Magnolia High...

They both stared at me for a while, then Kinana began to push him off of her. I chose that moment to walk away. After I walked a couple blocks, I heard footsteps behind me. I ignored them, knowing who they belonged to, and kept on walking.

That's when a small, soft hand grabbed mine. "Cobra..." She had whispered, her voice pleading. I didn't turn around. "Cobra..." She tried again, and tightened her grip on my hand. I finally turned around, and pried her fingers off my hand. I took a step back, and examined her.

The blue blouse she wore was a bit torn and it wasn't buttoned properly, all the buttons were in the wrong buttonholes. She wore an extremely short white skirt that was also a bit torn. Her hair was messy, strands of purple hair stuck to her face. There were hickeys all over her neck and her lips were swollen.

Mascara mixed with tears ran down her cheeks.

"Erik, I'm sorry."

I nodded, and watched as she fiddled with her hair. I sighed, then asked her if I could leave. Her eyes widened in anger and shock and more tears ran down her cheeks.

"How can you be so fucking calm?!" She had screamed, fists clenching. "I just fucked another guy and you act like nothing's wrong, like it's just another normal day!" She sniffed, wiping away her with a hand.

"Do you even care?"

I didn't respond, just stared at her. Then I spoke.

"Are you done yet?"

She slapped me, eyes red, nostrils flared. "I don't believe this!" She shrieked, and then sniffed. "How can you be so heartless? You don't even care..." She sobbed, wrapping her arms around herself. "Don't even care..." Zancrow appeared then, in only a pair of pants, a worried look on his face. He approached me. "D-dude! I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I got tempted, ya know? She was wearing a skirt. You know me, my reputation. You know what girls in short skirts do to me, I couldn't resist, ya know? And -"

I held up a hand. "She's yours now..." I said quietly, calmly. That's what I felt. Calm, peaceful.

Kinana sobbed harder. "Cobra, no! I'm sorry! Please forgive me, it'll never happen again!" She reached out to me, but Zancrow held her back. "Cobra, please!"

But I already began to walk away.

...

So, that's how we broke. Or, rather, how I ended our relationship.

I know that news of our breakup will spread today, and by tomorrow everybody will know. They'll wonder why I was so "emotionless". How I could just let go of Kinana with ease and no regret.

Why?

Because I thought Kinana was different from others girls when I first met her. She was very sweet, intelligent, respectful, innocent. She came from a proper, respected family. She didn't dress like other girls, who wore short skirts and shredded shirts and revealing dresses.

She wasn't like other girls who had wild hair, hers was well-kept and clean. She didn't wear heavy perfume like other girls did. She didn't flaunt her body, she didn't flirt with every guy she saw. She didn't wear heavy makeup, she didn't wear makeup at all. But occasionally, on birthdays and formal events, she'd wear light pink lip gloss or a dab of lipstick.

She was, in one word, perfect. A suitable girlfriend. A girl any guy would be lucky to have, to show off, call her his. And I genuinely liked her. Genuinely admired her.

But I was wrong.

I shouldn't have fallen for those innocent green eyes, or her innocent appearance. Or her "naivety". I shouldn't have been fooled by her sweet personality, her persuasiveness...

She's just like those repulsive, provocative girls at my school who wore skimpy outfits. Just like any other girl. She's no different...

Why was she wearing that short white skirt? She never wore skirt like those. Perhaps, while she was waiting for me, Zancrow came along. And, she went back inside her house and changed into that repulsive skirt. And that's when they...

Or she was already wearing the skirt, and Zancrow was in the neighborhood, and saw her, and seduced her.

There are so many possibilities...

But I don't want to find out what happened. I don't want to know. I'm done with her. I don't care about her, not anymore.

...

I was wrong...

She's no different.

I promised myself that if she ever cheat on me, or leave me for another man, if that ever happened, I wouldn't react. I wouldn't be sad. I wouldn't be mad. I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't care.

But if she left me for no reason, even though everything's fine, that's when I'd cry. If she died, or got in an accident. That's when I'd be sad. When I'd me mad. That's when I would care.

But she betrayed me. By cheating. So I don't care. I'm not hurt, not heartbroken. I'm not sad.

She's nothing to me now. Just a memory. My past.