Joy is a concept to love or forget

Shaking, sobbing.
I wanted to call you.
I promised that I would ignore you.
The plate in my hand
And the anger in my heart.

The result.

A broken kitchen
A telephone to my ear.
We said very little.
Mostly, I just cried.
Asked you why we didn't make it.

Exchanged promises.

Sat in the doorway.
I knew it still wasn't the same.
I had permeated the cold structure.
I could hear your deep intake of breathe.
You aren't happy.