His eyes became hazy... almost unclear. Like an ocean, an ocean after a storm with heavy fog all about. I cried a tear, and dipped my head down in shame as I watched the crystal water droplet falling south of my red, swollen face. I swallowed, it broke the heavy, and painful silence between us. I looked up again, searching for an answer, or forgiveness in his cloudy ocean eyes, and found nothing. Just a blank stare. I wanted to beg him to tell me what went through his closed, and secure mind. But I couldn't. I knew if I opened my mouth and let out even a whisper, my voice would break in an embarrassing way, and all I would end up doing is begging him and pleading, which knowing him, would be useless. I knew whatever I said now would be used against me later. I know I wouldn't be forgiven, even if he forgave me how would I forgive myself. I looked at his face, and studied what I had just thrown away. His perfect eyes, they weren't all sparkly anymore. And his creme-tannish complexion wasn't glowing like usual. His lips, the way they were set, showed no sign of a possible smile, ever. His soft, flawless, full lips were set in a straight, unmoving line. I just watched him, studied him, waited for just something on his body to move and give me an answer. If he struck me across my face, I'd even be thankful. Slowly, his eyes unlocked out of their blank stare, and he looked at me. And as he did, his lip trembled. As his lip did, mine did to. As he slowly unthawed and realized what I had just told him, my body reactions began to mimic his. His eyes filled with tears as mine did, he bit his lip in restraint, just like me. And finally... he cried. As he cried, I cried. We sat there in our secret spot, a spot where we were alone, and in peace, and... in love. We sat in this perfect place we'd been in love many times before, and we cried brokenly, and desperately. I felt my heart pounding harshly, and this pain I felt of my heart was slowly growing. I felt shame, remorse, hatred toward myself, and depression. He bent over, crying hard, and pulling up chunks of fresh earth in an attempt to clench and grab himself out of this pain I'd given him. I cried, because he cried. I hurt, because he hurt. I was part of him, and he was part of me. That, I knew, would never change. After minutes, and what seemed like years, of crying and feeling that intense heartache, we both lift our heads, my hand on my heart, and one of his hands on his, and we looked at one another. My heart was at it's limits, it beat unusually fast, soon it really did hurt. I clenched at it harder. He clenched at his to. My body beckoned closer to his, I felt my body aiming straight for his lips. It was a natural feeling I'd had millions of times before. I couldn't ever stop this wanting, and needing of him. Even though I didn't deserve a kiss, I wanted one. I wanted his kiss. Not David's. I never shouldn't have cheated on my only love, and put us both in such literal heart aches. I leaned closer, wiping a tear as I slowly and reluctantly crept closer. My heart was still pounding, gradually, painfully worsening. He looked as though he felt the same pain, but his body copied mine. We fought our pain and hurt for just a moment, just so we could possibly have one final kiss. Finally, his lips brushed mine, and he moved those lips I was dying for, and put them to my ear. My whole body rushed, and was electrified as I felt his lips travel and brush from my lips to my ear, and he whispered, "I love you." Suddenly, my heart burst, literally. I clenched, feeling bubbling, intense, unquenching hatred for myself, and for him. How could he say he loved me. How could he come near me? How could I have been so stupid. These wretched thoughts pulsed through my mind, and my veins, and I felt my bursted heart pump slowly, slowly, and slower... and slower. I no longer felt the pain. I was numb. I looked at him, and he clenched his heart as I did, and we drunkenly fell forward, dying of this heart ache. Our hearts in shambles, knowing it's all my fault. And we died. Literally.