Anyway, I'd already done it. "I don't really love you, you know." I don't know why I said it like that. I'd never said "I love you" at all, so it wasn't like I was negating anything. But she had this look about her sometimes, when we'd watch a movie or sit on a bench, when she would scoot close and put her head on my shoulder, like she thought I loved her. Was it the expression I made, maybe? Slightly pained, a little uncomfortable? Really, she shouldn't have laid her ear right on my shoulder like that, it always made my arm fall asleep.
She just kind of looked at me, though, that little sticky ring around her mouth glinting a little, throbbing at the back of my head. God, why didn't she ever wipe her mouth when she ate? She looked at me and didn't blink, and she made a little noise like a cough. She said, "This doesn't really make sense." What don't you understand, I wondered. So I said that too. "What don't you understand?" She made that weird little noise again and I thought she might look away or cry or something, but she didn't.
"So why are you saying this?"
"I don't love you, is all."
"Yes you do."
"I don't, I swear."
She scooted away from me. "Yeah, well...", she said, and stood up. She started to walk away, dragged the back of her hand across her lips as she went.