She wants to go for a walk-I know what that means.  After practice I'll have to walk to her house because I told her I would.  Of course there was a time I would attempt to ignore it all; hoping my problems would dissolve into nothing, but I promised myself against that.  I walk out to the track with my friend and we warm up together just like any other day.  I have no problem hiding from him the fact that something is bothering me.  He doesn't need to know anyway.  The regular routine continues and then the team scatters to its separate events.  The excitement of obtaining a new personal best takes my mind off the business I know I have to attend to after practice.  This is good-I don't know what I'd do if someone asked me what's wrong.

Leaving the locker room again, this time dressed less appropriate for athletics, I turn left rather than my usual right.  I know my friend notices, but he doesn't say anything.  Good.  I don't want to explain to him.  He probably thinks I'm going to see a girl, but he doesn't know the reason.  It's only a few blocks to her house.  I ring the doorbell and stop breathing.  This is not a time to be human-I have to be stronger.  She comes to the door and invites me in.  She takes my backpack from my shoulders and lays it on the chair-I have to remember to get it before I leave, which also means I'll have to come back to her house.  I'm not sure I want to do that.  She's in the best position to hurt me and I have a feeling I'll want to go home and hide from the pain as soon as it's over.

I sneak a couple quick breaths while she's not looking.  She turns back to me and we stand facing each other.  No words are spoken, we just look at each other.  I know she thinks by not saying anything that I won't know what she's thinking, but the pain in her eyes gives her away.  She's always told me how she admired my eyes, but never bothered to learn how to read them.  I've hidden my emotions for as long as I can remember, but the stronger ones still show in my eyes.  Like right now.

After an uncomfortable, breathless eternity, one of her eyebrows raises slightly.  "Let's go for a walk."  I now remember she hadn't exactly said she wanted to go for a walk, but somehow I knew it was coming.  My time with her equated "let's talk" with "let's go for a walk."  This is not good.  We leave her house and start down the street.  I put my hands in my pockets in silent subtle protest of what appears to be coming.  She doesn't notice.  Her arm hooks around mine, yet she still says nothing.  I don't even look at her anymore-I know her eyes still show her anxiety for what she feels she must do.  We continue walking in silence, occasionally interrupted by her "I don't want to do this."  Then don't.  But I know enough to not say anything.  I just gently squeeze her arm so she knows I hear.  We stop at the corner about halfway around the block from her house.

"Talk to me," I push gently, now facing her and looking directly into her eyes.  I erase from my eyes any notion of what's going through my heart and mind, but she wouldn't know anyway-it makes no difference.  She puts her arms around me and my hands come out of my pockets so I can reciprocate.  The wind blows across my fingers, sending a chill through my body.  I realize that maybe she thought my hands were in my pockets because of the temperature.  Maybe she just didn't notice-it doesn't matter.  Her head rests on my shoulder and her lips begin to move.  I can hear her perfectly, yet I have no idea as to which words she might be using-I understand only the ideas.  Strange--who'd ever heard of a break up when the two were in each other's arms?

"I will always love you," she says through the slow-streaming tears that managed to find their way to her cheeks.  At this point my hands are on her shoulders so I can see her eyes.  She looks past me over my shoulder or down at our feet.  The pain in her eyes now infers a different meaning to me.  She doesn't want to hurt me.  She really does love me, and she doesn't lie that it will last forever.  But she broke up with me-why is she the one crying?  Isn't that my job in this situation?  I gently kiss her forehead and tell her it's alright.  Now this definitely is not the way to break up with someone.

"Let's get you inside."  I leave one arm around her shoulder and we walk back to her house.  It must appear to anyone who might pass by as if I was the one who broke up with her rather than what actually took place.  Here I am doing my best to comfort the girl who just dumped me.  I turn and look at her.  She's wiping away her tears, trying to make it look like nothing's wrong, but another look into her eyes makes me realize something.  I stop walking.

She turns toward me.  "What?"  I stand there for a moment just looking into her eyes with a rather blank look upon my face.  Something there fills the emptiness that had burdened me since she told me we needed to talk and the corners of my mouth slowly curl upward.  She hugs me and we start walking again.  It appears that I will have no objection to going back to her house again.  The world was mistaken once again-this is the way two people are supposed to break up.