Infinite (A Flash Fiction)

Infinite (A Flash Fiction)

i wonder how one mistake could end one great thing, such as love.

it was a bit gloomy, though the sun was up. i could hear the honking of the cars from where i was. i could smell my neighbor baking fresh bread. there was chaos around; a nanny was heard screaming and running after the baby she was paid to take care of and the intercom in each unit was ringing loudly. at some point, i could hear myself screaming, “answer that damn intercom,” ” give the baby something  sweet to eat so she will stop crying and running.”

oh, well, i didn’t scream it out loud, though. i’m not like that. i’m used to just keeping things to myself.

so when you came ranting about me not telling you what happened the other day, i shrugged my shoulders. it was something i didn’t want to tell. well, for one, it wasn’t as if it would change the course of time or affect the country’s economic situation (just kidding, though).

seriously, i was imitating you, what you do and how you do things; you don’t tell me, you don’t talk to me. you always let things happen and allow me to find it out myself, and when i do, i have no right to even question you; i need to understand the situation.

oh, well, what now? looks like we are even. at least you know how i feel about not knowing things and being blindsided all the time.

and for the record, i tried to understand you with all humility. i wouldn’t say i liked the thought, i was not too fond of the situation, and i hated the idea, but never was there a time that i assassinated your character by lambasting you on a personal “below the belt” level.

but you did to me. you said things beyond my imagination. you accused stuff beyond my comprehension. and most importantly, you said, “we’re done, i am cutting off my ties with you.”

i must say, i wasn’t surprised at all. you did that many times. not once, not twice, not thrice, many times. i couldn’t keep track anymore.

and despite me not being surprised, i was hurt.

i know my mistake, and i am sorry. but it does not involve me being a slut, as you call it.

i stopped arguing and stopped explaining.

one thing i’ve realized, though, is the love you call infinite or limitless ends the moment i make a mistake.