Author's note: So I haven't written anything original in a while. I wrote this probably two months back, but things have been getting in the way of me posting it. This story is totally and completely inspired by the song Remembering Sunday by All Time Low. I had a really great experience writing this. It was one of the first times that I became all-consumed in writing and I fell in love with this story as I wrote it. So hopefully you'll love it as much as I do. Please review and let me know what you think. All comments welcomed and appreciated.

Eagerly, she leads him upstairs to the landing, third door on the right, apartment 205. Pulling on his hand with a devilish grin, there is still an aftertaste of their shared breakfast of eggs on their tongues. They hadn’t been away from each other for exactly 27 hours and it finally came time to part. Coming to a halt in front of her door, his eyes meet with hers. They reflect in her magnificent blue eyes as wild coyotes. Gingerly he raises his hand and traces the gentle shape of her jaw line. So feminine, so perfect. Leaning in, it was so easy for him to become overwhelmed by her. The very smell of her skin was intoxicating. His fingers found the way to her hair and her lips found the way to his. The passion in his kiss was nothing more than definite; a promise and a longing for more. A giggle escaped her lips as she swiftly pulled away from the kiss and entered to door to 205. There standing outside of her apartment, she left him dying to get in.

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Jamie wakes early on Thursday morning. Groggily, he rolls over eyeing down the alarm clock on his bedside table. The alarm clock laser prints the time 2:00 a.m. into his brain. Glowing a bright fluorescent green, 2:00 a.m. had become the hour of angels and demons to Jamie. The angel was Jersey, the demon was himself.

While Jamie knows that it is two in the morning, he hasn’t actually registered the fact that 2 a.m. means it’s the middle of the night. Everyone else in the time zone in asleep. He’s been stuck in a drunken stupor where time is no longer relevant and all that matters is that she won’t answer her phone. Since that day Jamie hasn’t been able to sleep a full night. Completed REM cycles were evaded by the need to dull all aspects of life with clear, bitter liquor. Every night, Jamie would wake intermittently to take harsh drinks from whatever bottle is nearest him.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he stands and staggers towards the doorway. As cautiously as someone who sole-handedly funds Russia’s vodka exports can, Jamie make his was downstairs to simply fall back down on the couch. The accomplishment here is not that he actually landed on the couch, but that he managed to not let the bottle slip from his grip while doing so.

It’s been 3 days (or wait, was it 4 days ago?) since he had seen her. He just can’t shake the thought of why there is not a single trace of Jersey Morgan to be found. He had only just gotten her back. Their relationship was frayed and tattered, but it worked for them. Something went wrong but they always found solace in each other. The last days had been wonderful. Jersey was being more than her normal self, overtly happy. He didn’t think much of it then, but now it was starting to all make sense. Jamie regretfully realizes that Jersey always did this.

Jersey had a problem, she didn’t believe in love. When things were good, Jersey could only think that things had to get worse, because usually they did. Jamie had made an extra effort to try to show her that he loved her. That love is real, but it comes with a few highs and lows. He was determined to call her bluff, only this time Jersey was ready with a poker face worthy of a card shark.

The only problem is that Jersey didn’t usually drop off the face of the planet. Normally there was at least a phone call and a plead for a break. This time she completely disappeared. It was if she had never existed.

Pondering the inner workings of Jersey’s brain, Jamie answers all of his questions with another swig deep from within the bottle.

It was raining that last day he saw her and it’s been raining ever since then. The rain has almost become a friend to Jamie in the same way the bottle had. The rain had this way of deafening the world and it was kind of what he needed at the time. Rain also had an effect of dulling color, making everything a monotone of blue and grey. Jamie can’t exactly remember the last time he hadn’t seen in shades of blue and grey. Blue was the color of her eyes and blue was all he had seen since Sunday.

Easily he moves to a sitting position before standing. He makes his way to the front door and puts on his shoes. Jamie stands outside his front door and lets the rain wash over him. He hasn’t been sober for days, but standing in the pouring rain is the closest thing to sobriety that Jamie has felt in awhile. Carefully, he makes his way down the road. Jamie is dead drunk, but he’s determined to make his way to Jersey’s apartment. It doesn’t matter that it’s the middle of the night, nor that it’s raining. Jamie gave her some space, but he has to see her and he has to see her this instant.

He walks hand-in-hand with the bottle and his determination. It takes every bit of his consciousness to correctly place one foot in front of the other. Normally the walk to her apartment is only a short distance, but for someone who’s judgment is currently impaired, the walk seems to be the equivalent of crossing the Brooklyn Bridge.

Ever so slightly the rain starts becoming a torrential downpour. It’s no longer a blessing, but a curse from the northern Gods. Suddenly there’s a clap of thunder and Jamie stops. Somehow at this moment, the thunder became a sudden signal washing in a flood of memories.

Remembering Sunday, he falls to his knees on the sidewalk in the downpour. They hadn’t been apart in exactly 27 hours. They had breakfast together and proceed back to her apartment. They stood outside her door and Jamie couldn’t help but be all-consumed by her. Maybe it was the way her blonde hair traced her shoulders or how her smile was slightly higher on the left, but he couldn’t help being in a trance. Jersey was so perfect in that moment, it seemed to last forever. Hesitantly, they said goodbye and Jersey slipped into her apartment.

It’s not only raining outside now, but from within Jamie. Tears cascade and fall mingling with drops of rain. Pulling himself up, Jamie continues on and then picks up his drunken, sluggish pace, and somehow he’s made it to the complex.

Jamie simply stares down the front door to the complex. Leaning into the breeze of the storm, he’s come so far, yet the major obstacle seems to be to simply step inside. He’s here, yet he somehow can’t manage the strength to just open the door. Jamie drops his head, just trying to imagine his form as it is right now, soaking wet and staring at a door. “How sad,” he thinks to himself. Inhaling deeply, he finishes off the remainder of the alcohol, tosses the bottle to crash somewhere nearby, and pulls open the door.

He scales the stairs with great effort, somehow he doesn’t stubble and go crashing down. All of the inhibitory affects of the alcohol have fled his body and now he’s running towards door 205 and he’s banging on the door. Jamie thrashes and beats at the door rattling it’s hinges.

“Jersey, open up! Open the door. It’s me. Let me in. Hey, Jersey I need to talk to you right now. Come on, just open the door!” The words come in a flood of anger, each more urgent than the other when he realizes the door isn’t opening.

But his calls don’t go unnoticed.

The door across from 205 opens to show a man apparently in his fifties. He’s donning a navy robe and a receding grey hairline. The man peers through his glasses, eyes fixed on Jamie.

“What’s going on out here?” The words come out quiet, but stern.

Turning, Jamie finds the man behind him.

“Please forgive me I’m trying to find her. Have you seen this girl?” Directing towards the door.

“Who? What? What girl?” The man asks as a knee-jerk reaction.

“Jersey! Don’t you understand! It’s driving me crazy! She won’t answer the phone. I need to talk to her. I’m gonna, I’m gonna ask her to marry me!”, Jamie slurs and spurts, dragging each word into the next. How the man was able to understand him only God knows.

“Oh. I’m so sorry son, but she moved away.”

Jamie’s mouth drops as the man turns and enters his apartment. Jamie doesn’t have enough time to think before the man is back holding a letter. It’s addressed to Jamie.

“She left this for you, she thought you might come looking for her. I assume you’re Jamie.”

Jamie nods as he reaches for the letter and hastily opens it.

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Jamie reaches into his pocket and retrieves his phone. He knows there’s no use in calling, but he does anyway. The numbers are familiar and he easily dials them despite intoxication.

Hey this is Jersey. If you’re listening to this, then I’m not able to answer the phone. Leave a message, maybe I’ll call back.

“I know, I’m calling in the middle of the night. 2:56 to be exact. I know you’re not gonna answer, but hopefully you’ll still listen to this. It’s still raining. The clouds… the clouds they wont stop. They’re following me as I try to find you. You’re not here. Why aren’t you here?”

He’s screaming now.

“Why do you keep doing this!? Huh? Why leave!? You’re doing more damage than good! Come back!”

He is cut off before he can finish. Inhaling deeply, he redials and listens to the sound of her voice. Entranced, he startles when he hears the beep signaling it’s time to leave a message.

“Why would you leave me,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“I’m outside your door right now. I’m still expecting you to open the door. Jersey, I love you. Can’t you see that? Come back to me. Please. I need you… You know, I would have married you in Vegas had you given me the chance to say, ‘I do’”

Jamie pauses, waiting to see if by some miracle the door will open and she’ll be there. Once he knows that’s not going to happen he finishes, “I guess I’ll go home now. I love you.”

He doesn’t leave. Jamie slides down the wall next to the door where he rereads her letter. Sobbing, he reads the letter so many times he has each word memorized. It still seems unreal once he’s back at his house sitting at his kitchen table. He’s folded and unfolded the letter enough times that the creases are starting to tear. It takes him a while before he and his fermented companion come to the realization that she is gone. Jersey is gone. She might as well be dead. He might as well be dead.

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“I’m not coming back. I’ve done something so terrible to you. You’re such a wonderful person, I’m just hindering you. I have problems, you know that. You might even expect that from me. I’m mixed up and confused so I’ll be blunt. Please accept it. By the time you read this I’ll be keeping an eye on the world, thousands of feet of the ground. I’ll be over you at home in the clouds, towering over your head. I don’t know were I might go, please don’t call. I… I’m just to terrified to speak to you. I’m afraid I think I might love you and I’m falling more in love with the distance put between us. I’m terrified because love only leads to hurt.”