He pushes me away.
“But…”
“No buts, Parker. It’s too late for that. There’s no more us. There never was an us. Nothing is here.”
I watch him walk towards the red, illuminated exit sign. I can follow him if I want, but don’t. It’s obvious he doesn’t want me, and never has.
He doesn’t look back.
I’m left behind. I don’t mind.
A part of me wants Kasey Lowman to drown in the aquarium with all the fish. I don’t think it’s horribleto feel this way.
Life is always about drowning, I believe. Water is always present.
I imagine he’s inside the aquarium, swimming to the surface, gliding through the water. Swimming and swimming and swimming, but he’s not moving. His body becomes motionless, limp in the folds of water.
I understand this. How can’t I?
A part of me hates him. I will always loathe him, though. This I know. And water will always and forever remind me of him.
* * * *