Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

She turned off the TV and looked at me. “We need to talk,” she said.

“Can I fold my laundry while we talk?” I asked.

“No,” she shook her head timidly. She was leaving in two days, could she be feeling the same way I was? I put down the t-shirt I had in my hands and sat on the sofa beside her.

“So this weekend while I was driving I had a lot of time to think,” she started. The hesitance in her voice, the worried look in her darting eyes, I couldn't help it. I started to smirk. I knew exactly what she was about to say. “Wait, why are you smiling?” she asked.

“No, nothing, keep going.” I couldn't be the one to say it; she had already started.

“Anyway, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I just don't think it's going to work out between us.” She stopped wringing her hands and looked up into my eyes, expectant.

It took me half a heartbeat to consider my next words. I took a deep breath.

“I'm so glad you said that.” I couldn't believe she was the one breaking up with me. I had been going over this moment in my head for a week, trying to figure out how I could have this conversation without it ending up with her in tears. I didn't want that, I didn't suddenly hate her or wish her harm. I had come to the same conclusion as her: we just weren't going to work as a couple any more.

“Wait, what?” she asked. I must have mumbled, I always mumble when it comes to important things.

“I'm so glad you said that.” Almost two years of dating, of being best friends, of driving and flying and traveling over the country to see one another, of sharing in triumphs and commiserating in tragedies, could come to a close with such a simple exchange?

“Huh. I don't know what I was expecting, but I certainly wasn't expecting that.” Her hands were shaking almost imperceptibly and I could tell she was fighting back tears. The good kind, not the type I had been dreading before.

We laughed a little, slightly uncomfortable and awkward laughter. “So you're not mad?” she asked.

“No, why would I hate you for breaking my heart? I always told you you were a ruthless heartbreaker.” Nothing could have been further from the truth. “Can I give you a hug? I feel like all this weight has been lifted off my chest.” We embraced, the warm embrace of two friends who haven't seen each other in a while, and she lightly kissed my cheek as we moved apart.

“How long have you....?” She asked, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“Probably since last weekend, when I was driving to that wedding and I had a bunch of time to think in the car.”

“Hmm. Makes sense.” The conversation moved on to how each of us had known, how we were going to tell our mutual friends.

“I feel so grown up; we handled this like such adults.” She said later, as I was standing up.

“I know! I was not expecting it to be this easy.”

The next day we went out to dinner before she left town. It was relaxed, comfortable. We had each rediscovered the friend we hadn't seen for months.

When I told a friend a few days later, he had already heard the news through the grapevine. “I figured you were ok,” he said. “Not too many couples go out to dinner together the next day to celebrate their breakup.”