Application Approved: Officially Done with You

I'm a talker, while my boyfriend's a workaholic. He tells me I'm annoying, deletes me from his contacts, and blocks my number. If I want to reach him, I have to submit a request three hours in advance, and once it's approved, I get five minutes of his time. This is my 99th request to go see the Northern Lights. I'm just waiting for him to reject it so I can finally let this relationship go. But instead, the approval comes through. I spend an entire week putting together an itinerary and only ask him to book our flights. When I get to the airport, I receive a notification telling me to book my own ticket. I make excuses for him, tell myself he's busy with work. But after I land, I find him sitting with my best friend Becca Holloway, posing for one of those couple's portraits that takes a full hour to finish. He sees me and frowns. "So I didn't get your ticket. What's the big deal? "There were only two first-class seats left, and Becca has a bad back. She had to sit there." He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, then pushes the luggage beside him toward me. "Grab these, will you? Becca hurt her wrist, so she can't lift anything." The moment he finishes talking, he reaches up and takes out his hearing aid with practiced ease, cutting me off before I can say a word. Something in me just gives out. I take the sticky notes from my pocket and toss them in the trash. I plan to write down everything I want to say on them, so I won't waste his time. Now I don't need them anymore.