Birds could be heard in the cold night sky, however, birds were not supposed to be present. It was winter. They had long since gone south, just as the relationship she was currently pondering about.

“I won’t be going with you” She said to herself, trying to make her voice strong. Failing.

“I WON’T go with you” She tried again, looking at her image in the mirror, forming the conviction she so lacked, with the wrinkles in her face. She didn’t even fool herself.

A face that gave up stared back at her, as she once again went over the script she had made for herself.

A script so she wouldn’t falter or go back. A script she could follow. Her final act with this role.

Acting was something she had taken pride in for all of these years. Acting like a good girlfriend. Acting like a good friend. Acting like everything was fine.

But somehow, acting like she could do this was getting to her.

It was much harder than smiling in front of her friends and family, whenever they asked if she was really okay.

It was much harder than nodding her head in defeat, as he once again made her believe whatever he said was right.

It was much harder to cry than it was to keep pretending.

But every act has an end. Every role has a finale.

She couldn’t play the roles that was expected of her anymore. She simply wasn’t able to do so.

She was at a loss at who ‘she’ had even become.

After drowning herself over and over, ‘she’ had finally stopped resurfacing, and though that was the intended purpose, it scared her. Terrified her.

It scared her more than the raised hand or the suspicious eyes.

She didn’t want to lose.

Acting was the only thing she had for herself. It was her way of survival. She wouldn’t back down. She would use the only weapon she had. The only thing she was allowed to have for herself.

Once again she stared in the mirror, looking as her wrinkles started to find their place in her stern face.

“I won’t be going with you” She said, pronouncing each syllable as if her resolve rung out into the lonely room, chirping amongst the imaginary birds.

“I will never go with you again” She continued from her memorized script. Watching and hearing herself going through with it gave her power. Power that bred more power as she continued.

“We are over” Her heart sank as the words slipped over her lips in the same steady pace she had been going, but her voice didn’t tremble. Her insides coiled up into small balls, as her inner world started to feel like giving up, but her face stayed strong.

She looked at herself sternly, reminding herself that this wasn’t the first time her inside and outside worlds felt at odds, but that it might be the last.

“I never want…” She held her tongue. An invisible tear started forming, but it was gone before it arrived. She inhaled deeply, as she took another step towards the mirror that had been her conversation partner and support. A silent listener. A friend.

“I never want to see you again.”

She finished.

It was over.

Her practice.

Her act.

Her role.

She did it.

A sigh of relieve left her, as she crumbled down on the floor. Would she be able to do this in front of him?

Before doubt could cloud her mind, she reminded herself.

She was an actress.

If it went well in practice, it would go well during the real thing. She had confidence in this. She had done it before.

However, those times, the script was not her own.

The words had been handed to her from expectations and pressure.

But this… These words were her own… Said in an act of composure. In an act of power. Something she had never allowed herself before.

Suddenly, breathing felt hard. She could no longer be sure if she could do it after all.

“But I am an actress. It’s the only thing I have” She told herself between heavy breaths as she tried standing up. Trying to calm the rising anxiety.

“I will make the best performance for myself” She reassured herself, as she tried standing up again, taking a bow in front of the window.

“For myself” She repeated, as her strength returned to her.

She took a final look in the mirror, making sure her wrinkles were correctly place, and that her expression was the perfect mask.

And then she went to him.

For the last time.

He was sitting in the chair where she was so used to finding him.

Normally, she would make him coffee, as she noticed his cup was empty. She would offer him something to eat. To make something to eat. To go buy it, if they were out.

But she was already in her new role.

He seemed to have noticed the sound, but didn’t turn to see who it was. She didn’t mind. She knew it would be like that. She knew him better than she knew herself.

Which was exactly why she had to end it.

“A—” She tried, but the sudden sound of her voice made him turn around, his stare bore into her piercingly.

But she was in her role, she told herself. She was not the person he saw. Not anymore.

“About the move—“ She felt her lips moving, her heart racing, her brain running, her feet freeze. Every inch of her body was against her.

But she was an actress.

“I won’t be going with you” the words triggered something in her. Made her straighten her back. Made her able to breathe. Made her feel a sense of calm.

Her words sounded just as impactful as they had when she had practiced alone. But the nerves that came along with the silence, as he continued to just stare at her, had not been in a part of the practice.

She continued. A heavy uncertainty hugging her from above. Frozen as her feet might be, she was steadfast. She would continue.

“I will never go with you again” The words gave her power, and the power she gained took the power away from him, as he was sitting still. Unmoving. Looking. Figuring out the situation.

She was sure he would attack. That he would bare the fangs her only let out when it was the two of them. That he would jump her when she had her guard down.

She was sure he would stop her.

But he was just sitting there. Something resembling a smile or a smirk gathering on his face.

Was he even listening? She thought.

“We are over” She finally said, letting her heart sink as it had done once before. As it had done whenever she had practiced. As it had done whenever she thought it to herself.

Tears started pressing on. Her perfect mask started to break.

“I never want to see you again.”

Her final words.

She left.

“You’ll be back” she heard behind her.

Halfway breathing a sigh of relief.

Halfway choking on her breaking heart that believed his words, no matter how little she wanted to admit it.

But she was an actress. Her role had finally ended.

And a new stage was waiting for her with open curtains.