The Origin of "Break-up"

The word "break-up" must have been invented by a woman. I can picture her - dumped by the love of her life, pacing, crying, attempting to sort out her feelings, to define what is happening to her heart. She clutches her upper chest. She feels her heart pumping the blood that gives her life. She gasps for air between sobs. Then she feels something that has never been defined - her heart breaking. She pictures it splitting in two, the edges jagged like the broken hearts doodled on the notebooks of lovesick teenagers. My heart, she thinks. She then reaches over to her journal and begins to write. Break, break, torn up, broken up, break...break-up.

This scenario repeated itself in my head when Elijah expressed his confusion and need for "time". I was filled with grief, pain, and loss and the wound deepened during our next encounter.

Elijah waited for me outside of my office, sitting on a burgundy swivel chair. I walked toward him, gave him a soft kiss on the lips, and immediately realized my mistake.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I'm ok," I replied.

Elijah's eyebrows furrowed. He then stroked his head with his hand.

"I'm not doing so good," he said.

I gazed into his eyes, my eyes watering as I noticed his expression shift from somber to guilty.

"I want to be honest with you"

I held my breath.

"I saw my ex-girlfriend yesterday."

I was suffocating.

"I only wanted closure. Nothing happened between us. We talked outside, she cried, told me how she wanted me back -"

"I can't believe this. What are you doing?!" I asked.

"I don't know."

Elijah's hands cupped his face as I held in my tears. He then looked up at me and told me he had to go, told me we would speak later. He lifted himself from the chair, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and walked away. I watched him exit the room before entering my office and breaking down. Between sobs, I packed my things and put on my coat. I wiped away my tears and realized I couldn't wait. I called Elijah.

"Meet me in my apartment. We can't leave this like this."

My legs felt heavy as I walked up the stairs to my apartment. And my heart, my heart was sinking. I made it to the third floor though my eyes were blurred and my heart and head pounded. And then I saw Elijah, walking up the opposite staircase, stepping onto the gray concrete floor and approaching my door. I stood there for a second, keys jingling in my hands. He stood there, eyelids lowered, leaning on the brick wall. I opened the door. I watched him walk into my apartment. I took a deep breath. I could feel it breaking. I could feel that feeling. The feeling of a break, break, torn up, broken up, break...break-up.