End of the Innocence

After arriving home from bowling last night, I stopped to get my mail. As I neared the hallway in which the group mailboxes for my unit are located, I overheard the words, "I love you, but...." As I rounded the corner, a woman, mid-20s at a guess, was sitting on the stairs and facing her (and me) was a man around the same age. He saw me, but made no acknowledgement of me that she could see, so she continued not knowing she had an audience.

"I love you but not in that way. We have fun together, but I need...."

Having heard enough and it being obvious the man didn't care, I loudly scuffed my shoes on the ground made sure to jam my key into the mailbox lock more loudly than needed. I was going to allow her the privacy she needed for these comments.

However, I couldn't help but take a couple of looks over and assess the situation. I love stories, and my mind was racing with who these people might be and how they got to be here, on the stairs at 9:30 at night, breaking up.

She was an attractive woman, curvy, with mousy-brown hair. He was a little short, but in good shape, but had a pissy look on his face. Instead of devastation, pain, or a wounded look on his face as this woman broke up with him, I saw irritation. My first impression was that her breaking up with him was an inconvenience. Like he had made plans that would need to be changed.

Sometimes you can tell a lot by those initial glances and the pieces of conversation you overhear. I'm sure she will be much better off without this man in her life. Even if he cared for her, it was obviously in a possessive or diminutive way. I am confident that, in his life, the woman would always be more of a show piece than a companion. An object rather than a friend.

As I finished grabbing my mail and loudly made my exit so she would know I was leaving, she started back up.

"I just don't feel like you need me...."

I rounded the corner and quickly left listening range.