I say the phrase. My heart snaps like a twig.
“What?” she asks, as if she doesn’t hear me correctly. As if she were an elderly lady whose hearing aid’s battery life is low as an iPhone’s. Or maybe she’s stalling. Giving me time to reconsider and say something different. But I repeat it.
It’s not you, it’s me.
I don’t deserve a woman as good as she. Though she concedes that we are all human and make mistakes, that doesn’t excuse the fact that I continue to fail her. I can’t give her what she needs.
Don’t get me wrong; I wanted this to work....
