Someone else did this; my heart would never betray me in such a way.
But now I sit back to experience the aftermath of something someone else did, what the imposter said. Someone who looks like me but couldn’t possibly have denied me love in such a cold, blatant manner.
“Calm” he told the Not-Me. “How are you so calm about all of this?”
I scream: “Of course I’m not calm! I’m carrying a fucking hurricane inside my chest.”
The Me-Who-Is-Not-Me did not cry out. She smiled a sad, faint little upward curve of the lips, patted the handsome, destroyed man on the shoulder and carried us out into the black night.