Graveyard of Love

Flash Fiction, by C.J. Heck

He was writing a letter to her and suddenly, he knew. This was not how he wanted it to end. For a decade they had been together —they had history. Their past would always matter, because the good had been good, but there it ended. Any future together was dead.

Their few differences had grown to insurmountable. They were both guilty of sidestepping, blindly hoping if they didn’t talk about the issues, they would quietly fade away. That didn’t happen.

The only thing left unchanged was sex. They still met once or twice a week, screwed like rabbits, or horny strangers, and that was that, until next time. But that wasn’t enough. There had to be more to keep playing the game. Being a normal male, having that thought both surprised and depressed him.

The thing is, he realized he had arrived at an age where it mattered. He wanted so much more. He’d known for some time he could have a different fuck buddy every week … he saw signs from the ladies, and he was sure a stranger would be more affectionate and caring than what he had now. That hurt, but it just wasn’t enough anymore.

He didn’t really understand what brought them to this point, only that they were here and it was time not to be here anymore. They had become two strangers co-existing in the same space and the silence between them was deafening.

What hurt him most was seeing the same anger and hurt in her eyes that he saw in his mirror. It was over, the hole was dug, and they both knew it. All that was left was for someone to throw the first shovel full of dirt in the hole by saying the words —so he would say them at dinner.

He tore up the letter, reached for his phone, and dialed her number …

Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
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