Broken
"But I thought you loved me!" Benson screeched through tears.
"I do love you, Benson-"
"Then why don't you show it? Why do you have to-" Benson choked back a sob. "Push me away from everyone-"
"Because I don't want to see you getting hurt!"
There. The words had finally been said. There was a long silence, and Benson didn't know what to say. He was in shock, but his heart was still broken, and his expression softened for a split second, before hardening again.
"You don't want to see me getting hurt?! Look at me! I'm already hurt! And you did this to me! You hurt me!" Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he looked completely shattered inside.
Two hands were outstretched. "I'm sorry for hurting you, Benson, but I can't keep doing this!"
"What?"
"I can't keep this up. I'm not wanted anywhere I go." A sigh.
Benson stared at the figure, the gears in his mind turning, wondering what was being said.
"Everywhere I look, blank faces look back and I don't want to see that anymore. I'm done with this. I'm sick of empty promises, of words that hold no meaning no matter how many times they're said. I...I'm finished."
It was like a slap in the face. "So, you're leaving me?"
A nod. "I'm so sorry, Benson. Really, I am."
"No." Benson spat. "You're not sorry. You don't care about me, not anymore. Because if you did, you'd stay. You'd tell me you love me every day. You'd make me breakfast and talk to me, care about me how you used to-"
"Yes. Used to." Another sigh, heavy this time. "I'm sorry." And a few tears fell.
Benson felt like screaming. This couldn't happen. Helpless, he watched the figure turn then Benson just fell to his knees and sobbed into his hands. His heart had been ripped in half and he hated it.
"Please, take me back." He cried out. "I'm sorry for everything I did to you, just..." Benson slowly rose from the floor. "Don't leave me a broken mess, please."
The figure turned and Benson could see the traces of pain in his expression clearly, as if they had been there for years, too many to count. "I can't." It whispered.
Benson looked up, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Why?"
The figure looked close to tears as it spoke softly. "Because you already are."
Benson stared, rooted to the spot. Slowly, he raised a shaking hand and walked forward.
His hand hit the glass, the glass of the mirror. He stared at his own reflection, his throat dry, his eyes a light red.
"You always have been."
~ We are our own worst enemy ~
At the beginning, you'd think Benson's breaking up with someone, but it's really his reflection. What is said by "the figure" was actually him; how "the figure" made his breakfast for him every morning, how "the figure" told him how much it loved him, how "the figure" cared about him like it used to, how "the figure" had talked to him every day as if it really wanted him. "Used to" - how he used to care about himself, but because of the heartache, all the pain that's he's gone through, it's left him broken inside and he can never fix it.
And the empty promises and words that hold no meaning, what he says to everyone, how much he cares about them, he believes deep down, that he's lying to himself. What is said is what he believes in himself; he thinks that when he looks around, all he sees is blank faces, that he's not wanted, 'cause he doesn't understand that he is loved wherever he is, whether it be the park or at his own apartment.
He pushes himself away from everyone because he doesn't want himself getting hurt anymore; from his friends, family. He unconsciously closes people off from his fear of rejection of being sad and lonely. But because of this, that's why he's like who he is.
The "leaving you" part kinda hooked you in to think it was a breakup, but really, it wasn't. It was himself, telling his reflection that he wanted to leave himself because he was so sick of everything he had gone through throughout the years.
I'm sorry for any tears I've shed or hearts that have been shred because of this little piece. But this just came to mind and I had to write it down. Again, I apologize. :(
