Love Leaps: A Short Story
Love Leaps
     
     
     
    “I don't understand what that means,” I
stammer, trying to make sense of it all.
    “Well, it just means I need some space,”
Gray says quietly.
    “I know, you said that. But what does it
mean?” I ask, begging for answers. After spending almost a year
together, I'm not sure if this is his way of breaking up with
me.
    “I don't know, Emma. It just means I need a
little time to sort things out in my head,” he says.
    “Are you breaking up with me?” I ask
pointedly.
    “No,” he hesitates.
    “Are you sure, because this feels like a
break up,” I say choking on my tears.
    “I'm sorry. I just haven't felt like myself
for a long time and I need to get back to who I am, that's
all.”
    “I still have no idea what that means,” I
say exasperated.
    “Don't you ever wonder if you're living
someone else's life, just going through the motions?” he asks.
    “No, I don't. Are you having some sort of
quarter-life crisis or something?”
    “No, well, maybe. I don't know. I just need
some time to figure it all out, that's all. Can you just trust me?”
he asks but I can't answer him.
    “Emma, I love you, but I just need this
right now,” he says quietly. “Please don't cry.”
    “I'm sorry,” I mutter as I wipe the tears
away from my face with the back of my sleeve.
    “Don't be sorry. I don't want to hurt you.
Just give me a couple weeks or so to sort through all this stuff
that's jumbled in my head,” Gray pleads.
    “So we're not broken up?” I ask
hesitantly.
    “No, we're not,” he says, but I'm not
reassured.
    “And this is just for a couple weeks?” I
ask.
    “Yeah, probably,” he says. “I don't know
exactly, but probably.”
    “So, what are you going to do, to figure
this out?” I throw at him, finding this whole idea of taking some
space ludicrous.
    “I don't know. I think I might go visit Cole
for the weekend or take a few days off from work. I don't really
have it figured out,” he says, sounding very tired.
    “So you're going to take some space and not
see me at all,” I say, blinking back the tears. “Are you going to
call me?”
    “I don't know. If you need me, you can call,
but I think I just need to have as few distractions as possible
while I get my life figured out.”
    “I see,” I sigh.
    “I know this is hard,” he says.
    “You have no idea,” I throw back at him.
“You're asking me to flip a switch and pretend like we're not a
couple so you can go figure out your life or whatever without any
idea how long that's going to take.”
    “I know it's really selfish of me, but I've
been feeling like I'm suffocating and I don't know what else to
do,” he says.
    “Fine,” I say defeated.
    “Are you really okay with this?” he
asks.
    “Don't ask me to condone this. I don't
understand this at all. But what other choice do I have?”
    “I'm sorry,” he sighs. “I'm really sorry. I
hope that I can figure things out and be a better man and a better
boyfriend.”
    “Well,” I sigh and take a deep breath. “Good
luck.”
    “Thanks,” he says and hangs up.
    And just like that, the man I thought I was
about to be moving in with is half way breaking up with me and
going off to do some crazy self-exploration crap where he hopes to
find himself. I'm so not okay with this.
    It's late and we've been on the phone for a
couple hours. My head hurts and my eyes are tired and all I want to
do is sleep. I toss my cell phone on my nightstand and flip off the
light. As I'm enveloped by darkness, the tears start rolling down
my cheeks and I'm overwhelmed by my sobbing. Drained and exhausted,
I finally fall asleep after an hour of crying. My eyes are nearly
swollen shut and my pillow is drenched in tears. Sleep is a
welcomed reprieve.
    In the morning, I toss back several
ibuprofen and chug a Red Bull. I need my head to stop pounding and
I need some energy to get to work on time, actually getting there
at all will feel like an accomplishment. As I glance in my

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