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On Empty



"What do you want from me?"
He was at his wit's end, at the brink.
"More," I said, "more of everything."
"More of your lips that taste of Marlboro and coffee."  I traced hot fingers firmly over parted lips.
"More glances, deep and promising, holding mine," I said, touching eyelids heavy with emotion.
"More heart,...your mind and soul; mine, with every pulse," my warm hand on chest hard as marble; and just as smooth.
"More time, with you, fleeting seconds, lasting moments; or days spend in yearning when you 're not with me."
I felt his breath warm against my ear, "Yes," he said with a trace of sadness, "take everything."
"Shhhhhhh!" I said, compliance expected, control absolute.
My nails were painted as dark as my intentions; my lips, blood red ... I almost felt sorry for him, he had no idea:
It was time to dance with the devil.
I picked them out, and discarded then at will, my heart as hard as granite.

I cut him loose soon after, left him disorientated wondering WTF.
"Bitch!" he spat at me as he walked out of the busy restaurant I reserved for break-ups.
I felt nothing...
Nothing when the eyes of the patrons settled on me at his cursing.
Nothing when the waitress shook her head (she knew me well).
Nothing when I saw him flip the collar of his jacket to brace against the storm outside.

I picked up my cup of coffee, now ice cold and gulped it down, motioning for a refill.
I got down to business, deleted contact details off my phone, made an entry in my calender to mark his passing.
That done, I dialed a number and waited.
"Hey, Sexy!" he said, the thrill of anticipation in his voice.
I cringed, I hated being called that.
"Hi there," I said feigning excitement, "Wanna hook up, I'm at loose ends."
"I'm home, working."
"I'll be there in 10," I said.
 I gestured at Carol for the bill, and she hurried over sensing my haste.
She tolerated me, I guess as I tipped her well, I needed this cold, soulless dive for my dumping.

I made it to his apartment in Kloof Street in 5, hammered on the door, and lost items of clothing as soon as I stepped inside: skirt, shirt, but kept on the heels.
"Whoa!" he jumped in as I jumped him, "what about the foreplay?"
"Foreplay is for girls," I hissed.
It took me 3 strides to reach him, and 3 minutes to get off.
10 minutes later I was out of there, leaving only my scent and my panties behind.

It was going to be fun playing with his heart.
It was almost sweet how he thought it was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Back at the restaurant, coffee hot and black in one hand, Blackberry in the other, I marked my calender with his name...
Day 1...
29 more to go...
                                               * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He called off the wedding 30 days before our Big Day.
"This doesn't feel right," he said in a room with skeleton furniture custom made for our new lives together: "I can't go through with it."

30 days was all it took:

- 30 days to cancel "Happily ever after".
- 30 days to wear away 5 years of promises

30 days that would last a lifetime.

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