Sometimes Breaking Things

"Just leave me alone."  Kelly said.

She really wanted to be left alone.  She thought that was clear, and yet.  Keith slid down onto the bed she was laying on.  He leaned over towards her, and put his hand on her thigh.

With all of her energy she didn't jerk away from him right then.  "I'm pretty sure I just said leave me alone." she repeated.  She picked up a book on the nightstand and pretended to start reading it.  Hoping, obviously, that he would see she was busy and move on.

"Hey." he began.  He looked in her direction, and looked a little hurt that she didn't look back.

She felt bad for the look on his face, which made her nearly explode.  "Get out of this room, immediately."  She wasn't yelling.  She was barely speaking between lips that weren't parted.  Her eyes were focusing on something distant.

Keith got up and walked out of the room.  She could hear him in the kitchen, clinking dishes, making something.  Opening the refrigerator.

Kelly held onto the book, squeezing with all her might.  She wanted to throw it, but throwing the book wouldn't make Keith less of an idiot.  So she squeezed it.  Full of emotion that had no where to go, and no use.

He had, previously, and from now on always, ruined her day when he said,  "I could love anyone, but I choose you, because you're not the best, but you're my favorite."

'I know' she thought.  'I know I'm not the best, what kind of idiot thinks they're really the best?  Obviously I'm not the best.  But I don't need to be reminded by the people who love me.  Oh look at me, a broken little amusement.  Not good for anything, but his favorite, and here I am, fucking sobbing in a bed.'  She was rocking between pulling the sheets over her and stretching out flexing every muscle in her body.

Then there was Keith in the kitchen.  Making a sandwich for Kelly.

He didn't know why he talked.  His words, so noble in his mind, got garbled on their way out.  He wanted to convey a deep love, but one that he chose to have.  He wanted Kelly to know that he really liked her better than everyone else, despite her imperfections.  He felt like she probably should have seen his better meaning, but whenever there are two meanings she drifted towards the negative one.

He walked back into the bedroom.  He looked at her, and set a pickle and ham sandwich on toasted bread with mustard.  "Weirdo" he said and smiled, then set the sandwich down and left.

She then lost her control, and broke the plate against the wall, her favorite and sandwich and ceramic pieces falling to the ground. she knew he'd hear it, because he wasn't deaf.  That she knew he'd be hurt at her refusal of the olive branch, and the catharsis from breaking a plate made her feel a little better.  She got up and went to the shower.