eleanor rigby...

She pulled over. She looked out at the sky. She threw up into the ditch. She was crying. There's no way this could be it. But it was. She was certain. She could only think in simple sentences. She put her flashers on and sat down on the side of the road. She dry heaved until every pittance of sentiment had been expunged.

She knew that she could not explain it. She now understood what it felt like to be in one of those inexplicable situations that you don't wish upon anyone else, not even your arch nemesis. It was one of those that she always said that she'd never be in. That she would never fall out of love. And here she was, on the side of the highway not only having fallen out of love but having purged every remnant of love out of her.

And then she sobbed some more. She let the tears fall sticky and heavy on her face because she hated herself and her complete inability to explain how just like that it had happened. How just like that she could no longer lie to herself or to him. She knew he wouldn't understand. He'd probably hate her for it. She already knew that she would want to call him in the middle of the night to come over to kill a spider in her bathroom and then she would beg his forgiveness and it would start all over again.

She wanted to scream but when she opened her mouth, only a whisper remained.