You can't look at him.

Instead, you hurry around in your (his, a little voice whisper in your head. It's just his now), bedroom, trying to pack everything at the same time, trying to make the past fit into a suitcase.

Which, you know, is not possible.

You can feel his eyes follow your every movement, and it's becoming unnerving. But, you keep your head cool and focus on the clothes you're packing.

"Meg?"

You shake your head, still not letting yourself look at him.

"It's too late, James."

Much too late, you think.

And yet, there's a voice in the back of your head, saying that you could try again, make it work this time. A low but insisting voice.

You ignore it.

You glance over at him lying on the bed, making sure that he understands that this is it. For real this time. Though, you know that he will try. He's not the kind of person who gives up without a fight. Even though he knows that it's a doomed mission.

"Won't you miss me?"

You sigh.

"I'll be missing the past."

Which is true. There is no point in lying. You know that the truth hurts, and that's why you lie, but you also know that with you two, it was always the lies that hurt the most.

And besides, what damage can the truth do when you're already broken beyond repair?

With another quick glance at him, you notice that he has that look in his eyes again. That stubborn "I'm ready for a fight" look. Normally, you wouldn't mind too much, because you always make up, one way or the other.

But you're too tired to fight. It's been one too many.

"Please, James, I really don't want to fight. Can't we just... be civil about this?"

"Civil? Civil?! You just get out of bed and start packing your stuff without an explanation, and you just want me to accept-"

"James, please..." You hold up your hands in front of you, trying to reason with him.

"No, Meg! Don't 'James, please' me. I won't fall for it again."

You drag a hand through your hair, looking up at the ceiling as if you're waiting for an angel to appear and make everything all right.

"Fine! Yell all you want. I'm still going through with this. Don't you get it? We're done. Over."

This shuts him up, and for a moment he looks insecure. You look away again, almost feeling guilty. But you know that he doesn't love you anymore, you're pretty sure he doesn't even want you, but you do know that he needs you, he chose you to hang onto.

"But don't you love me anymore?"

You pause and look at him.

"No", you answer slowly. "I don't."

You won't cry. You won't. Because tears can't stop the fire burning inside of you, inside him, around you, in between you. You don't know how, where, when, why it started.

And you know only one way to stop it.

You eyes fall upon a picture of the both of you, smiling, happy, in love. It feels like another life now. You can't help but smile when you remember when it was taken.

OoOoOFlashbackOoOoO

"James! Stop it! I want this to be perfect!"'

"Whatever you say, Meg", he smirked at you, loosing his grip around your waist. "But you know, I don't think your mother's going to want this anyway. I'm not really in her favorite book, you know."

"But still. She might change her mind. She has to, when she sees how happy I am. How happy we are."

"You're really naïve, you know that, Megan?"

You slapped him playfully on the arm, then turned your attention back to the guy with the camera, who was rolling his eyes.

"I am not. And besides, if she sends it back to us, then we can put it on a shelf or something. It'll look good."

"It sure would."

You smiled, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Now, if you pay attention to the camera and look disgustingly happy, then you might even get lucky tonight."

"And what if I don't?"

"Then..." You thought about it for a second, then smiled, put your lips up to his ear and whispered way down low.

His eyes opened wide, and he looked disbelieving down at you.

"You wouldn't."

You smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"Wouldn't I?"

He studied you for a while, then threw up his arms and shook his head.

"Fine! I give up. Do what you have to do."

"Good boy", you said and you both smiled into the camera.

OoOoOEnd of FlashbackOoOoO

Of course, your mother had send the picture back, and it's been standing on that shelf ever since.

He sees what you're looking at, and sneaks up behind you, pulling your back to him, not bothering to put some clothes on.

"We can be that happy again, you know", he murmurs in your hair.

You sigh. It would be so easy to lean into his, the pasts, embrace and throw in the towel. To surrender to he familiarity, to the man who you used to love.

But that's not going to work in the long run, and you know it.

So you step away from him.

"Please don't make this any harder than it already is", you beg him.

And you know he knows it pointless.

"But why?"

But you also know that he needs an answer, a real answer, nothing metaphorical or cryptic, or anything of what you usually give him.

"Because..." You hesitate, just for a second. "Because I don't love you, and you don't love me. No, you don't", you insist when he tries to protest. "You love a thing of the past, and you have for quite a while. And... and I can't do this anymore. I can't live in the past."

To your surprise, he nods and look away.

"Then go."

"I'm already gone."

You pick up your suitcase, then look up at him. You try to feel what you once felt for him, but it's impossible. He's just another link to the past.

And you've had it with the past, so you say goodbye to all your yesterdays and take that step you once were afraid to take.

You walk out the door and close it firmly behind you.

OoOoO

A/N: Well, I'm not quite sure about this one, but the idea just wouldn't leave me alone (or rather, my muse wouldn't leave me alone, which is highly unusual). Tell me if it's completely awful.

Dedication: To Marine. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I know your birthday isn't until the 7th, but here you go anyway. I hope you like it!!