Past It

"You honestly want to know?"
"Yes damn it? Yes."
"Fine." I took a deep breath and glared at him. "I hate you. I want you out of my life, so I can begin the process of forgetting that you were ever part of it."
I stared at him, watching while his face fell. He lowered his eyes, and looked at the floor. "Why?"
"Why?" I said through my teeth.
"Yes. Why?" He whispered.
"Because what you did to me is so beyond the realms of unforgivable that I... I just can't see past it." I sat down in the arm chair, and put my head in my hands. "Just go." I whispered. "Please... just go."
He stood for a moment before I heard his feet moving on the floor. The door creaked as it opened, and clicked quietly shut.
I looked up. He was gone. Somehow I wasn't relieved that he left, that the fight was over. I had hoped, deep down inside of me, that he would have fought more to keep me. It was irrational, I knew that, but there it was none the less. I tried to stand up, but just couldn't. I didn't have enough energy for even that. I brought my legs to my chest, wrapped my arms around my knees, and cried myself to sleep.