I remember so well when you broke my heart.
It was not passionate, or romantic, or anything like what the books described.
The park we sat in, was so quiet that the beats of my heart sent pulses along the ground and up to the branches of the trees above us.
I can still see the picnic rug when I shut my eyes. Lined blue and red, I ran my fingers across it, much like I used to your spine.
You spoke of your new girl, the way I wished you would speak of me.
Eleonora. You told me.
Your Ellie, Your Leo, Your Norie.
Although it was not this that had pained me.
It was what happened next.
It was the way you turned to me, with your ever fluorescent eyes
and asked me how I was.
It was the way I looked at you and lied.
"Good".