don’t shut me out completely

Harry's face twisted in frustration. "I didn't want this either. You made me do it."

I looked at him, unable to believe he was shifting all the blame onto me now. "I told you I need space. Why can't you just understand that?"

Harry stared at me, his eyes searching mine for an answer that would make sense to him. "Why do you even need space? What just happened?"

I took a deep breath, knowing I couldn't take it anymore and had to end things once and for all. "Because I am tired," I said.

He cut me off, his voice rising. "So you're tired of me?"

I shook my head, trying to remain calm. "Tired of pretending it's all fine when it's not. Tired of knowing but not being able to speak."

Harry's face hardened, and he grabbed my arm with force. Pain shot through my body, but I stood my ground. "Come to the point," he demanded.

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and fear. "I know about you and Iris."

He paused, his grip on my arm loosening, then dropping entirely. "Me and Iris?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I looked him in the eyes, determined to see this through. "Yes, that day, at your house. I saw both of you making out."

His expression was one of disbelief, but I caught the silent guilt in his eyes. I continued, my voice steady. "Let's break up."

For a moment, Harry was silent. Then, with a look of desperation, he shook his head. "No. No, you're wrong. There's nothing between me and Iris. You must have misunderstood."

I felt a wave of anger and sadness wash over me. "Don't lie to me, Harry. I saw you."

He stepped closer, his hands outstretched as if to reach for me but stopping short. "Please, you have to believe me. It was a mistake. I was drunk, I didn't know what I was doing."

I took another step back, my heart aching. "That doesn't change what happened. You betrayed my trust."

Harry's face crumpled, and he sank to his knees. "Please don't leave me. I need you. I love you."

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I forced myself to stay strong. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have done this."

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with tears. "I made a mistake, a terrible mistake. But I can change. I can make it right."

I shook my head, feeling the weight of my decision pressing down on me. "It's too late for that, Harry. I've given you too many chances already."

Harry's desperation turned to panic. He scrambled to his feet, reaching out to me again. "No, please. We can fix this. We can.. we can talk about it. Just don't leave me."

I backed away further, shaking my head. "I can't keep doing this, Harry. I need to move on. I need to find happiness."

His face twisted in anguish, and he collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. "Please, I'm begging you. Don't leave me."

Seeing him like this broke my heart, but I knew I had to be strong. "I'm sorry, Harry. But this is the end."

He looked up at me, his face wet with tears. "I can't lose you. Please."

I turned away, unable to bear the sight of him like this. "Goodbye, Harry."

As I walked towards the balcony, I heard his sobs grow louder, but I didn't look back. This was the hardest thing I had ever done, but I knew it was the right decision. I had to put myself first for once. I had to find my own path, without Harry.

The door closed behind me with a soft click, and I felt a strange mix of sadness and relief. The weight I had been carrying for so long was starting to lift, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a glimmer of hope for the future.

The days following our breakup were filled with a whirlwind of emotions. I would wake up some mornings feeling liberated, only to be crushed by the weight of loneliness in the evening. Each room in my apartment held memories of Harry – his laughter echoing in the living room, his touch still lingering on the couch where we used to sit together. It was a battle every day, but I knew I was doing the right thing.

Friends offered their support, but it was hard to articulate the depth of my pain. They knew parts of our story, but only I knew the full extent of the emotional turmoil that had led to our breakup. It wasn't just about Harry and Iris; it was about months of built-up resentment, the constant feeling of being undervalued, and the emotional distance that had grown between us.

One evening, as I sat alone in my apartment, I found myself scrolling through old photos on my phone. Pictures of Harry and me smiling, looking happy and carefree. It felt like a different lifetime. I couldn't help but wonder where things had gone wrong. Was it something I did? Was it inevitable? These questions haunted me, but I knew I couldn't dwell on them forever.

A week after our breakup, Harry showed up at my door again. This time, he looked more composed, but his eyes still held that desperate glint. "Can we talk?" he asked, his voice soft and pleading.

I hesitated but then nodded. "Okay, come in."

We sat down in the living room, the air thick with tension. Harry took a deep breath. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. I know I messed up, and I've been trying to figure out why I did what I did."

I looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I think I was scared," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Scared of losing you, scared of not being enough. And in my fear, I did something incredibly stupid. But I never wanted to hurt you."

His words hit me hard, but I couldn't let myself be swayed. "Harry, you did hurt me. And it wasn't just the incident with Iris. It was everything leading up to it – the way you made me feel like I was never enough, the constant arguing, the emotional manipulation."

He nodded, tears filling his eyes again. "I know, and I'm so sorry. I want to work on myself, to be better, for you, for us."

I sighed, feeling a mixture of sadness and frustration. "It's not just about you getting better, Harry. I need to heal too. And I can't do that while I'm still in this relationship."

He reached out to take my hand, but I pulled away. "I understand," he said, his voice cracking. "But please, don't shut me out completely. Let's stay friends."

I shook my head. "I don't think that's a good idea. We need time apart to truly heal."

Harry looked devastated, but he nodded. "If that's what you need, I'll respect it. But know that I'll always be here for you, whenever you're ready," he said with a hesitant pause. "But we can still explore the physical part, right?"

I froze, disbelief washing over me. Lust flickered in his eyes, and I couldn't reconcile this with the man I thought I knew. The wounds from our breakup were still fresh, the betrayal of his infidelity haunting my thoughts. How could he ask for intimacy after everything that had happened?

"Harry," I said softly, my voice tinged with sadness and frustration, "our breakup was because of trust, or the lack thereof. You can't ask for physical intimacy when emotional trust has been shattered."

He looked down, seemingly unable to meet my gaze. "I know I messed up," he murmured. "But I still love you. I thought maybe if we..."

I shook my head, tears welling up despite my efforts to remain composed. "Love isn't just about physical desire, Harry. It's about respect, honesty, and mutual understanding. We can't just pick up where we left off as if nothing happened."

His expression softened, regret mingling with desperation. "I just don't want to lose you," he whispered.

"And I don't want to lose myself," I replied, my voice steadier now. "I need time to heal, to rebuild my trust in myself and in what love means."

Harry nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping. "I understand," he said quietly. "I'll give you the space you need. But please know that I'll always regret hurting you."

I took a deep breath, the weight of my decision heavy on my heart. "Thank you," I said softly. "I appreciate that."

He stood there for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. Then, with a resigned sigh, he turned and walked away. I watched him go, feeling a mix of sadness and relief. It was a painful chapter in my life, but I knew that choosing myself was the right thing to do.