“How long are you willing to chill before you get it?“ Adrenaline and frustration flow through his body as he begins to realize there is no winning, no victory in this argument. How can one win an argument with a brick wall? He turns to leave as her desperate hand reaches for his arm, clasping to his shirt, but for her, it’s much more than the fabric she holds onto, it is the year-long relationship that has come crashing down. It’s the familiarity, comfort, and trust she has with another person that has taken so long to build, so many hours of talking, laughing, and crying, she holds onto his shirt as tight as possible. She didn’t mean to hurt him, didn’t mean to push him away, but the game she was playing didn’t work. He turns instinctively, shaking his arm in a half-hearted attempt to free his shirt from her grasp. The tears now flow down her face as she looks into his cold and tired eyes. How could someone who used to look at her with such love now be so distant, he must have never cared? What she doesn’t know is that he feels just as lost as she does, mixed with feelings of betrayal and vulnerability. He vowed to himself he would not let his emotions get in the way of a reasonable conversation. He longed for an answer, just a clue as to how she could be so naive. He met with her today to explain his side, hopefully, get her to understand, and hear her side, to find peace with the situation. He should have known. He should have left it the way it was and never spoken to her again. People don’t change, he realizes this now, as he reaches for her hand and pries it away from him. “It is what’s best for both of us” is what he tells himself as he turns and walks back to his car, leaving her alone in the parking lot. She stumbles back to her own car and sinks into the seat, overwhelmed with loss. She watches him wait for traffic to clear at the exit, sadness, and anger fueling the tears that are now cascading down her shirt. She watches him pull out onto the road, forever out of her life.