His face is expressionless. It looks as though he just witnessed the death of all the the beauty and light in the world. Pain hit him with the force of a train, it showed through his eyes. The once bright, smiling, beautiful blue eyes I knew so well were now filled with sorrow. I broke him. To see him like this, collapsed upon himself, it sent a surge of regret crashing through me. I wanted to hug him, tell him it wasn’t true and that I still loved him; but how could I? How could I tell him that I would give him the world, that I was worth it when I cleary was not? After holding his delicate, precious heart in my hands and crumpling it carelessly, tossing it to the floor. “I’m sorry,” I say, with genuine sympathy. He squeezes his eyes shut and hung his head. “What did I do wrong?” He asks, “Why did you do it?” I’m crying now, the reality of what I’d done finally becoming clear to me. Excuses ran through my head, each one emptier and more insulting than the last. In the end, I chose to give no reason, for I didn’t have one that could mend what I had so foolishly broken. “I’m sorry,” I say again, remorsefully. “I am so, so sorry.”