I've yet to discover the sound that the heart makes when it breaks. Does it yell out loud when it's angry? Does it weep when it sad? And when it's lost, does it call for help? Would anybody be able to hear it?...

Poor heart- Yuna

I stood in the cue at the ice cream shop as I felt my heart breaking in to tiny little pieces. What was supposed to be a great day become the worst day possible, all that was playing in my head were images of Gift and that girl having sex, at it like rabbits.

Earlier when I left home I texted my friends so they would cover for me in case my mother called one of them, and took a cab to my boyfriend's home, only to find him screwing another girl in the living room.

I knew something was wrong from the moment I opened the front door, as the first thing I came across was a dress on the floor. As I walked farther into the house I saw a thong! Nothing could have prepared me for what I walked into, the man who claims to love me, fucking another girl.

In that moment I wondered if it was my fault because I had told him I wasn't ready for sex. Him and I had fooled around, but it never got to sex.

What hurt most was the look on his face when he saw me standing there with tears in my eyes, his eyes held no remorse whatsoever. I thought he would follow me when I left, but instead I heard him say.

"Where were we sweetheart?" to the girl under him.

I'm brought out of my thoughts by the cashier. "Hey? Want to order anything?" He asks.

"Um, can I have a scoop of cookie dough ice cream?" My voice comes out weak.

"Sure, have a seat and I will bring it to you." The cashier guy says.

As I walk to the table overlooking a big window, I see some girls looking my way. I sit down and take out my small mirror to see what is making everyone stare at me. As expected, my eyes are red and swollen, and there are a few smudges of mascara.

I open my side bag looking for toilet paper to wipe the mascara with, when the cashier puts my ice cream on the table and hands me wipes.

"Here you go." He says. I look at the wipes and catch sight of the ice cream cup in front of me. It's two scoops of ice cream, not one like I ordered.

"Thank you for the wipes, but I'm sure I said one scoop of ice cream not two." I say looking at him.

He looks at me for a moment and smiles a bit, showing me a small dimple on his left cheek before answering me.

"Really? My bad. I thought you said two." He says getting back to his work.

Maybe two scoops of ice cream is what I need to numb my broken heart. Who knows?