031 - lionize
"John, we need to talk," she said in an apprehensive way. He was sitting on the sofa in the living room. Her voice called out from the bedroom, but it was moving towards him. He was happy he wouldn't have to get up.
He turned and saw her coming into the room. "Yes, about what?"
"Well, it's serious. I would appreciate it if you could turn off the TV for this." His face showed a look of worry. "Oh, I see," was what he managed as he picked up the remote and mashed the button to flip off whatever inane show was on.
"What is it?" He asked, now acutely aware of the fact that Sarah was apparently quite serious.
She sat down next to him on the sofa, slumping into the cushions as if there were thousand pound weights on her shoulders. "Well," she began, pausing. "I really don't know how to say this. This is never easy."
"What is it, what's the matter?" John asked in a concerned way.
"It's just," she again hesitated. The words hung in the air, looking for the rest of their parts that would transform them into a sentence with meaning. But there were no others.
John grew slightly irritated. "Yes, yes, what is it?!" he demanded.
This demand pushed Sarah off the edge of the cliff she had been standing on. She quickly let out, "It's over! It's over John, okay?!"
The man fell back, looking deflated. Sarah, on the other hand, looked as if a great burden had been taken off her back. They both exhaled.
"It's over, I'm sorry, I can't go through with it. It's been a great three years, but I'm afraid it's unreconcilable as far as I'm concerned."
John would have gotten angry, but the utter shock of it all almost made it impossible. He managed a meager, "How could this be? After all the wedding planning we've done, the invitations, everything. What am I going to tell my friends? God, what am I going to tell my parents?"
She looked into his eyes. "Come on, you must have known this to be coming, in some way. It's a feeling that has been growing for some time, but I just never felt I could express it until I felt that I absolutely had to."
He just shook his head. "Why? What have I done? Do I get too angry with you? I can't even imagine, I've never strayed from you or anything like that. Is it because I'm not wealthy enough? Am I boring? What is it?"
She was quick to dissuade him from those thoughts. "No, no, no, it's none of those things." He then quickly shot back, "Then what?"
Now she was slow in answering again. Finally, after a moment, she managed, "Well, you go to the beach."
"...And...?" He asked, not quite following.
"You go to the beach a lot, John."
"So I go to the beach too much, and that means that you're calling off the engagement and everything? That makes no sense at all!" He said, finally getting angry.
"It's not the beach itself. It's the sand, John." Her voice began to tremble. "You're horrible about getting it off of you, and I'm finding that even in your bed, there's always so much. I wash, wash, wash and yet your bed is always sandy. I can't stand it. I just," she paused again, growing more emotional as each word came out of her mouth. "I just can't stand it!!!"
She was in complete hysterics now, and she stood up, running out of the room.
He thought to run after her. To try and comfort her. But he knew she was right. He had a sandy bed, and nothing could be done about that.