No matter how hard I try, sleep doesn’t come. All I can see is the back of Olivia’s head getting farther and farther out of my line of sight.

The next morning, as soon as I finish with my morning hygiene, I head over to her dorm room to try to talk things out. I imagine I can feel the heat of her body against the door, but she doesn’t open it. Damn, that’s where we are? She can’t even look me in the eyes as she flays me wide open?

I pull out my phone and text her.

Me: You’re really not gonna open the door?

Her response is immediate.

Olivia: Please don’t make this harder than it has to be

Harder than it has to be? What does that even mean? Years of our lives together reduced to a fight outside of a party and a damn text message.

Me: Why does it have to be hard? Just let me in

Olivia: It’s not worth it

All the air in my lungs dissipates. I thought we were in this together. There’s not a damn thing in this world that could make me stop fighting for her. Except her. Because if she doesn’t think we’re worth fighting for then what’s the point?

Me: I’m not worth it?

The minute it takes for her to respond ages me by at least a decade, and the response just kills me right there.

Olivia: You’re worth more than I can give you. I love you, but the whole baby thing opened my eyes. My heart’s not in it anymore. I don’t want this anymore. Us. I need space to figure this out

I look at the door. I wonder what she sees when she looks at me through the peephole. Does she see me as the fool I am? Does she even see me at all?

I place my hand against the door, trying to feel close to her one last time, but I just feel cold.

Goodbye, Olivia.

Kai

Six months later

Rice University Sophomore, Olivia Harding, Drafted by Orlando’s Yellow Jackets

I read the headline on my Yahoo home page a few more times before closing out of the browser.

She did it. She made it to the pros. I had no doubt she would, but now knowing that she’s officially in Orlando, almost one thousand miles away from me, everything feels fresh again.

“Hey, Kai. You ready to go?” My roommate pokes his head back into the room. His voice is edgy and his smile is tight so I quickly grab my shoes and follow him to class.

Twenty-two years old

Ever since Instagram was created, I’ve been in a pit of hell. Why? Because I can find out what Olivia is doing too easily. We’re not connected on Facebook anymore, and she barely even uses that but she’s on Instagram a lot. Her username is InLivInColor and I’m embarrassed by how that’s the first thing to pop up when I click the search bar in the app. I don’t follow her but I find myself searching for her page too many times a day. Fucking pathetic.