He would comply with her abrasive wish, for him to go find another fish and return her to the sea.
He didn’t know what instigated her sudden paradigm shift, and would never understand how she could act so carefree, as if she hadn’t just broken a heart (which usually wasn’t vulnerably volunteered so easily). He wouldn’t ask her either (because she would interpret any questions as a form of grovelling) which further tortured his analytical mind.
He had finally found a woman whom he loved everything she said, did, liked, and disliked. But despite having the same bizzaro crap in common, she’s was just not that into him. At first of course, but after a short time the novelty had faded.
He should consider himself lucky, i mean, how many people go their entire lives settling for someone just good enough because they haven’t met their perfect mate? On the other hand, he had never participated in uncontrollable crying (like fucking sobbing) marathons, when he used to just ponder if his dream girl could exist in real life. Now his sleepless nights trying to convince himself that his standards aren’t too high, are replaced with tortured thoughts wishing he could’ve done things differently (and wondering if that would even have changed the outcome).
After much consideration, he did not believe it would be better to have loved and lost. He could’ve happily settled down with someone just good enough. But now he is cursed to compare every future girl he meets to his lost love, desperately searching for a replacement. And let me tell you, his training in sobbing marathons has now reached an athletic standard.
He slumped into the kitchen fully prepared to throw his coffee mug as hard and as destructive as possible, but in this desperate act he slammed his elbow against the intercom…proving that he couldn’t even express the frustration from his unreciprocated love without failing miserably.