One Shots
Tyler Seguin (3)
“I’m leaving,” was all you had to say to break Tyler’s heart. You picked up your bag, shouldering it and preparing to leave for the last time.
“Why? Where are you going?” He watched you, sorrow already filling his eyes with tears. You didn’t answer the first question; you didn’t have to. You both knew the reason you were leaving was because Tyler was supposed to be your boyfriend, yet he wasn’t there; he was never there, always making excuses to be somewhere else. It didn’t matter if he played professional hockey or not. You’d fought before, but not like this.
“Anywhere but here. There’s nothing left for us.” You opened the door, sprinting out to your car before you could change your mind. You could hear him rushing out after you, door ajar, calling your name and “Wait!”, but you were already buckled in and gone, iPhone set to shuffle and blasted to drown out your own sobs and thoughts.
You drove aimlessly for who knows how long, until you stopped under the soft glow of a streetlight. You turned down the music to think again, hearing the last strains of “Stupid Boy” by Keith Urban. A single tear coursed down your cheek, and you put your head down on your hands until it faded.
"Nobody’s ever gonna love me like she loved me
And she loved me, she loved me
God please, just let her know
I’m sorry, I’m sorry
I’m sorry, I’m sorry
Baby, yeah, I’m down on my knees
She’s never coming back to me”
