# Breaking Up Is Hard To Do---a short story of love gone wrong



## carly

*They say that breaking up is hard to do*
_Now I know, know that its true.._

The lines of the song ran through Cats mind all day, relentlessly. After three days, she began to hum the words, much to the irritation of her co-workers. She didnt seem to notice when she began to sing them under her breath, until one of her friends mentioned that she seemed to be obsessed with the song.

Well, I guess its because of Gary, she said to Barb over quesadillas one Saturday afternoon after shopping. 

So you finally did it? Broke it off with him, am I right? 
Barb was her closest friend but Cat hadnt told her the news of the recent break-up with her long time steady. 

Cat bit into a cheesy, chicken-filled forkful and wiping her lips replied, Yeah, he was getting too possessive. I couldnt even do something like this without asking his permission or making him mad.

I didnt know he was _that_ bad, answered Barb.
But then, I never did like him much. I always thought you could do better. 

Cat thought about this and mentally agreed with her friend. She _could_ do better, and next time, she would. 

So what did you say to him; was it painless or did he put up a fight? Barb asked.

Nah; he was okay with it. I think he had somebody else going on the side anyway. I overheard him on the phone one day, and then he went out later. Came back way later than usual.
Cat picked up her purse, checking her teeth in the small mirror she carried.

Im surprised he didnt give you a hard time, if he was so possessive. He mustve wanted out too. 
Barb had the bad habit of picking out the smallest detail and making it an _issue_, thought Cat, as she looked at her friend across the blue tiled table top.
Come to think about it, where had Barb been hanging out lately?

Well, anyway, hes gone, said Cat, Now, lets talk about youwhat have you been up to these past few weeks? Any new guys?

Well, I am kinda seeing someone, but nobody you know. He works construction. Barb signaled the server for the check.
In fact, I m meeting him later tonight, so Id guess wed better go.
.  
After settling up the check, the two friends walked out into the bright sun. Saying goodbye to each other, they got into separate cars. 

Cat waved to Barb and yelled, Bye! Have fun tonight and call me tomorrow, k? 

 Kwere going line dancing at the Lone Star with a group of his friends. Ill give you all the gory details tomorrow.
 Barb adjusted her seatbelt, waved to Cat, and drove off, blending smoothly into the Albuquerque traffic.

Cat sat still for a few minutes with the air conditioning running, cooling the interior of her Jeep. She lit a cigarette, and inhaled heavily, blowing smoke through her nostrils and chuckling to herself. She pulled her heavy dark hair into a pony tail. Clicking her seatbelt, she backed out of the parking spot and drove out onto the highway, not ready to head for home quite yet.

She drove till she was nearly outside of town, checked her gas gauge and found it almost full, just as she had thought.

Twenty-five miles should do it, she thought. She needed distance between her and the city, away from the people, the stress and the constant _song_ running through her brain _all the damn time._

Forty minutes later she turned her Jeep left onto a rarely used dirt road. Her mood had lightened already; she was calmer somehow, and the cool air in the car fanning her face helped her relax.

She drove three miles and turned again, this time onto a long driveway. She knew she would find the shack at the end with the abandoned truck out back and the shed still full of rusted shovels and other toolssome things never changed and for that she was grateful.

Stopping the Jeep, she turned off the engine and opened the door. The heat hit her hard, but she had expected it, and began peeling off her outer garments until she was clad in only a tank tee and shorts.
She walked to the shed, pulling open the rusted hinged door and found the long handled shovel she wanted.

Dragging the shovel behind her

_Damn, its freakin hot!_ 

she opened the rear door of the Jeep and carefully peeled back the cover over the wheel well. 

Her treasure was there, quietly waiting for her.

 _I do love to garden._ 

Cat lifted and hoisted the burlap bundle until she had pulled it from the well, and jumping back as it tumbled to the ground with a whap!, she dragged it to the side of the house.

She began digging. Water was important, she knew, and so she stopped for breaks to pull on the water bottle and swallow deeply.

She finished digging near sunset and opened the burlap around the root ball of her latest shrub. It wasnt in the best condition, but it had been awfully hot the past few days. She rolled it into the hole and stood looking down at Gary. He was pretty dark now, and his face had an odd expression, like he wasnt sure where he was.

Cat snickered and thought that was a good one---he _didnt_ know where he was!
Laughing loud and singing, she threw shovels full of dirt over poor dead Gary, who indeed had nary a clue.

Barb sat home all evening, repeatedly calling Gary on his cell phone.
That bastard. she thought.
I bet hes gone back to Cat.


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## Antarctican

"Root ball" -that makes me chuckle.

Nice short story.


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