"We can't end this way."

"I'm sorry Tom, but I want to break up"

"What about all the time we spent together? Did it count for nothing?"

"I don't see it that way, but you can see it how you want."

Of course, she didn't see it that way; Amy had always been optimistic about everything. I, on the other hand, had a tendency to be pessimistic. She was sitting on the bed, head down and her gaze fixed on the floor, her eyes closed; as if she were waiting for time to freeze for her until I left.

I stared at her, from the floor of her room. I didn't know what to say. But I knew I didn't want to leave. Barely a second from that thought, Amy came out of her trance:

"Listen, I have to go to the bathroom and I'm going to be a while... could you leave?"

It seemed unbelievable that after eight years of relationship, she would use such a silly excuse to make me leave. Hadn't I proved to her all this time that I wasn't an idiot? Or maybe it is that in moments like this, it's hard to think clearly and you say the first thing that comes to your head.

"Alright". I answered. Going along with her would be best, and I wasn't going to get anything clear. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

She looked at me for an instant before replying:

"I don't know. We'll see."

She walked me to the door and I walked out into the hallway to call the elevator, without taking my eyes off of her, and she off me. The elevator arrived at its usual speed. I opened the door and looked at her. She looked back at me and closed the door.

And I entered the elevator.