a/n: Tis a sister story to Shattered Glass told from another perspective... Enjoy! And don't forget to review!

Glass Hearts

I regarded the dead line on the other end of the phone stoically. You had hung up again. You must have gotten sick of my lies again. Hell, I was sick of my lies. I hung my head and put the phone on the coffee table. I chanced a look towards her room. There was no noise. She slept like the dead, so I wasn’t too worried about her getting up to find me in the state I was.

I missed you.

I had never wanted to end it… but… something was never quite right. There was something slightly off with the way we were. I sighed and blinked back tears. I had been the one to end it and yet… I still wanted you. I still wanted to hold you in my arms. I still wanted to have those long conversations about nothing at all. I missed all that.

I missed you.

We need each other, I realized, but we would never give in. I wonder if one of these days you will call my bluff and tell me just how bad a liar I am. I stood up and moved away from the rocking chair in which I’d been sitting.

It was chilly, I noticed as I moved towards the window. I breathed against it and it fogged up. I saw something moving down the street slowly and I wiped my breath away from the window.

It was you. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t the first time you’d ended up at my door after we’d talked, whether our conversation was nice or not. I saw you stand at the end of my driveway for a few minutes with a thoughtful look in your eyes. Almost if as if you were deciding to come to the door or not.

You finally moved. After five minutes, your feet started towards the porch steps and I felt my breath catch. I wanted you to knock on my door. I wanted you to come in and sit with me. I wanted to talk with you. You hesitated at my door. You reached for the knocker, but you didn’t do anything more than touch it. You didn’t even wrap your fingers around it.

And then you were walking away.

A part of me died then as you cast a longing look over your shoulder when you reached the end of my driveway again. I wanted you. I started towards the door, trying to figure out why you hadn’t come to me for reassurance as to where we stood like you always did.

I already knew the answer even as my head tried to find a logical explanation.

My heart knew why you didn’t stay. It knew why you didn’t knock. It knew why you hung up. It knew all your reasons. You were afraid. You didn’t want my rejection. Not again. And I couldn’t blame you.

I didn’t want to see the way your face would crumple. I didn’t want to see the way the tears would fill your eyes yet refuse to fall in front of me.

But I wanted to see you.

I’m sure you did, too, or you wouldn’t have shown up. I closed my eyes and opened the door. You were already down the street and I just watched you walk back home. If you had known that I was opening my door to you, you might have stayed. You don’t know though.

You don’t know that I still want you, either. You don’t know how I really feel. You don’t know why I really broke it off. I don’t even know why I ended it. You were right. We were perfect and you were the one. I don’t know if I was the one or not. You made it clear that you thought I was and yet…

I still can’t be sure. I’m not sure of anything anymore. I could feel my fragile heart breaking, shattering, as if it were as delicate as glass. The one thing I did know was that your heart was probably experiencing the same sensations.

We were both trying to pick up the pieces that our seperation had caused.

And we would do it alone.