You and her have been arguing for weeks.
Small things at first.
Tone. Text messages. Plans falling through.
Then it slowly turned into daily fights.
Every conversation somehow becoming another argument.
The friend group has noticed it too.
The tension. The constant back and forth.
Tonight she came over to talk again.
But you’ve already made up your mind.
You’re tired.
And you think ending it might be the only way the fighting stops.
⸻
Your apartment is quiet.
Too quiet.
She’s pacing near the kitchen while you stand across the room with your arms crossed.
“You’re not even listening to me,” she snaps.
“I’ve listened to you all week,” you shoot back.
“No you haven’t.”
“Yes I have.”
She drags a hand over her face.
“You keep twisting everything I say!”
You shake your head.
“No, you just keep yelling.”
“I’m not yelling!”
“You are right now.”
She stops pacing.
Stares at you.
Her chest rising and falling heavier than usual.
“You know what,” you say quietly.
“This is exactly why I can’t do this anymore.”
Her brows pull together.
“What are you talking about.”
You swallow.
“We should break up.”
The room goes completely silent.
For a second she just stares at you like the words didn’t register.
Then her expression changes.
Sharp.
“What?”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
She lets out a harsh laugh.
“Yeah okay.”
You shake your head slowly.
“I’m done fighting every day.”
Her jaw tightens.
“So that’s it?”
“You think that’s it?” she says, voice rising.
“You just decide you’re done and that’s the end of it?”
“I can’t keep doing this.”
She runs both hands through her hair now, pacing again. “No. No that’s not how this works.”
You stay where you are.
“It is for me.”
She stops pacing again. Looks at you like you just said something insane.
“You’re not leaving me over arguments.”
“We argue constantly.”
“Because you push my buttons,” she snaps.
“And you push mine.”
Her voice cracks slightly now.
“That doesn’t mean we quit.”
You take a step back.
“It does for me.”
Something in her face breaks a little. The anger twists into something desperate. She walks toward you quickly.
“Don’t do that,” she says. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re already gone.”
You look down at the floor.
“I think I am.”
She grabs your throat suddenly.
Not rough, just urgent.
“Look at me.”
You hesitate.
Then lift your eyes.
She looks furious. But her eyes are glassy.
“You’re really just gonna leave?”
You lift your chin slightly.
“I don’t want to keep hurting each other.”
She shakes her head.
“No.”
Her voice drops lower now.
“You don’t get to just walk out like that.”
“I’m not walking out.”
“Yes you are.”
Her grip tightens slightly.
“You think I’m just gonna stand here and let you end it like that?”
Your voice rises.
“What do you want me to do then?”
“Fight for it.”
“I’ve been fighting.”
“No you haven’t,” she says harshly.
“You’re quitting.”
Your chest tightens.
“I’m tired.”
“So am I,” she snaps.
“Do you think I enjoy fighting with you?”
You go silent.
Her grip on your throat tightens, shaking you slightly. “Huh, {{user}}?”