When Mike told me he was leaving I felt like a vase which had just broken. There were pieces of me all over the tidy floor. He kept talking, telling me why he was leaving, 31 it was for the best, I could do better, it was his 32 and not mine. I had heard it before many times and yet somehow was still hurt; perhaps one cannot 33 such pain. He left and I tried to 34 my life. I filled the kettle (水壶), put it on to boil, took out my old red cup and 35 the coffee powder falling into the bone china. Somehow when the kettle piped its finishing warning, I 36 not to hear it. That’s what Mike’s leaving had been like, sudden and with a(n) 37 end. I would rather just 38 in uncertainty than have things finished. I laughed at myself. Just about a cup of coffee, I must be getting 39 . And yet it was a young woman who 40 back at me from the mirror, a young woman full of 41 and hope, a young woman with bright eyes just waiting to see the world. 42 , there are more important things. More important than 43 , I insist to myself firmly. The lid goes back on the coffee just like closing on the whole Mike experience. He didn’t 44 my dreams as I feared that night. 45 , I am flying far across fields and woods, 46 on those below me. I fly free until I meet another bird who flies with me in perfect harmony. I realize with some 47 that there is a bird out there for me, there is another person, not necessarily a lover perhaps just a 48 , but there is someone out there who is my soul mate. I think about being a broken 49 again and realize that I have gathered myself back together, what Mike has is 50 a little part of my time in earth, a little understanding of my physical being. He has merely, a little piece of me.
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