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Leaving

Dear Diary:

I was breaking up with my boyfriend.

I had shoved everything I needed into a rickety folding cart that I had wheeled it into our building’s elevator when my ex came running down the hall. He held the doors open, arguing with me for a really long time.

I wasn’t the only one in the elevator. A man trapped there with me politely pretended that a relationship wasn’t collapsing in front of him.

The doors finally closed and we went outside. I apologized. He pulled out two cigarettes, handed me one and stood next to me, smoking.

We didn’t speak or even look at each other. We just stood there shoulder to shoulder for a few minutes while I pulled myself together. Then he flicked his butt and walked away.

— Miranda McLeod