I was wringing my hands, pacing infront of my mirror, “look,” I muttered to myself, “look I just… don’t see us-“ I cut myself off “no! That’s so lame.” I grasped my hair, tugging at it. “How do I do this?” I heard a knock at my door and I panicked. “One minute!” I yelled, panickedly smoothing my hair in the mirror before I strode across the small apartment. I opened the door to reveal the man I’ve been dating for the past year and a half, giving him a smile I didn’t feel. I could see he had bags over his eyes and his own hair was ruffled like he’d been running his fingers through it. “Hi.” He said, uncharacteristically soft, I could hear the stress in his voice. I took a deep breath, looking up into his ragged face. I stepped back to let him into the apartment. “Look.” I said softly, and then groaned, running my hand down my face, “look,” I repeated, chewing on my bottom lip. His hand immediately came up as if to tug my lip out from inbetween like he normally does but he pauses. “I don’t think this relationship is going anywhere,” I say, my voice shaking as the emotion starts to pour into my voice. I could see immediate pain in his eyes and my own expression turns pained. “I don’t think I can be with someone who doesn’t have a job,” I say a little more aggressively, pointing a finger into his chest, hard, “look, you’re sweet, but I can’t be with someone who has no ambition in life!” My voice is getting louder, shaking with suppressed frustration. “I just… I’m working in the medical field and what do you do? You sit on the couch all day doing nothing.”