“I can’t do this anymore”


“I can’t do this anymore.” She whispered to me.

It was in her eyes, the difference defined in the caramel color, this time would not end like the last.

I felt angry, I stood there brooding, contemplating what I should say.

How am I going to keep this from escalating?

She stood in front of me now, her 5’5 frame finding itself in my bubble. I wanted to grab her and throw her back on the bed but her breakdown right in the middle of sex made it clear that would not work this time. She reached for me and I pushed her hands away.

If I can’t touch her, she can’t touch me.

She’s angry now, maybe her anger will overpower her sentiment and we can make it out of this in one piece.  All I need is for her to fight with me, a heated argument will lead to some heated sex. I followed her out of the bedroom and into the living room; the living room was dark, only a streak of light from a half-opened blind.

She reached for her t-shirt and pulled it over herself, I watched as the shirt grazed her nipples, they reacted and now there she stood in the glow of the dim light, perfect, nipples at full salute.

When did she slip on her panties?

I hadn’t even realized they were on her body. She stuffed her bra in her purse and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. She never cared much for bras, her small breast a compliment to her frame, they sat perfectly, not large, not small, just enough.

I walked over and grabbed her, enough, the jeans were going on and she might really leave, enough.

“Don’t do this.” I wrapped her up in my arms and she did not fight me,”Don’t end this.”

It’s what she needed to hear, it’s what I needed to say. I meant it, I didn’t want her to walk away, to throw away all the time and effort we had put forth, I had sacrificed in ways she could not comprehend. She wasn’t going to throw it all away.

We were swallowed up by darkness, how I loved to be in the darkness with this woman.

She reached her hands up and cradled my face, “This was done a long time ago.” She moved away from me, escaping my grasp. I wanted to reach for her but we’d danced this dance before. My eyes filled with tears as she slipped on her jeans and then her shoes. My anger getting the best of me, I glared at her as she stood in front of my door.

The tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

As she turned and reached for the doorknob I yelled out, “Jordan!” she didn’t turn, “If you leave, if you walk out, don’t you look for me again.” My tone angrier than expected. I hadn’t realized until just that moment that she might truly be done.

I saw the hesitation in her step,  allowing me a glimmer of hope. I willed her to turn around, to turn around and allow me to pick her up, to carry her back to the room, or the sofa, or the kitchen if that’s what she wanted.

She opened the door and without looking back she shut the door behind her.

She was gone and I was left standing there, all alone in the dark.




“I can’t do this anymore.”



I looked over at him, knowing it would be that last time we would have this argument, fight this same fight.

“I can’t do this anymore.” I whispered to him.

He was angry, his jaw clenched and his fists tightened.

He wouldn’t look at me, he stood beside me, I felt the heat vibrating off his body, he would not turn to look at me. The low light coming from the master bath illuminated his body. I could see the muscle definition in his back, the way it flowed down and over his butt. It is not lack of attraction that is ending this, it’s more lack of respect.

I slipped my panties back on and attempted to position myself in front of him, reaching for his face, he pushed my hands away.

I was immediately filled with anger. This was not my doing, the fault was not to be placed on me. Yes, I was ending things but it was because of his lies, his deceit, all the bullshit he’d put me through. He emotionally manipulated me to stay and wait, to hold on.

“Have some faith in me, wait just a little bit longer.” He would plead.

I could hear his voice in my head; over and over the empty promises he made replaying, serving as a reminder, giving me the necessary courage.

I walked out of the bedroom and into the living room where the whole mess had begun. I knew when he said he wanted to talk that we would somehow end up naked. The heated conversation quickly turning into an argument that inevitably led us to the bedroom. Some how, we always ended up naked and in a bedroom, or closet, or jacuzzi.


It was there in the middle of our sexscapade that I broke down. Completely side swiping him, he had not expected me to react, to cry the way I did but I couldn’t contain myself anymore. He was watching me now as I began to dress, slipping my t-shirt on. I shoved my bra into my purse.

No need, no time. Just go before he convinces you otherwise.

As I reached for my jeans I felt him, his arms wrapped around my waist, he pulled me towards him, turning me to face him.

He received no resistance from me.

“Don’t do this.” The words he knew I wanted to hear, the words I knew would come,”Don’t end this.”

There we stood in the darkness, a darkness we once thrived in.

I cradled his face in my hands, “This was done a long time ago.”

The tears ran freely down my cheeks and I wasn’t angry anymore.  I wiped the tears away realizing his eyes were brimming with tears. I let him go, pulling away I slipped my jeans on, sliding my feet into my converse, no socks necessary, I shoved them into the purse with my bra.

I looked him over one last time, he was strong, built solid. I had loved that about him, he had made me feel so safe once upon a time but he didn’t offer that anymore.

I turned to walk out the front door.

“Jordan. If you leave, if you walk out that door, don’t you look for me again.” His words were mean and I hesitated for just a second before walking out the door.