You slump on the bench, head bowed in sadness, yearning for my attention. I provide none. I can feel your eyes on me as my friends and I approach you. Our steps carry us closer, and I can hear you take a breath, longing to initiate a conversation. For a moment, I am sure you will speak, but then you exhale a sigh, shaking your vibrant hair back in front of your face, squeezing your eyes shut, locking the tears behind them. Your body shrinks away from ours as we breeze past you; seemingly without a care. But buried deep down, hidden from my friends, my heart screams in pain as it is assaulted by your resentful eyes. I am too afraid to turn around, to look back, to thrust myself into your warm arms and beg for forgiveness. Instead I continue forward, distancing myself from you and your stupid lies.

Blocks later, I glance back, but you have disappeared. I slip into the house—followed by my friends—vowing to give up on you, and your stupid little mind games. I hide in the dark house, not hearing a word uttered. All I can think of, all I can feel, all I can breathe is you. The thought of you waiting out in the burning sun, longing for it to get hot enough to scorch you dominates my mind, and I am filled with an overwhelming desire to find you, to ease your pain, to sleep in your arms once more.

Slipping away from the group, I escape to the bright outside world—just in time to see a flick of your hair vanish behind a car. My heart rushes toward you, but my feet carry me away. I return to the party as silently as I had left. Obviously, you would rather not be seen.

The rest of the afternoon is blurred by pain, my mind once again consumed with thoughts of you. I slip away from my friends as soon as I am allowed, feigning happiness as I breeze out the creaky front door. However, the moment I reach the stoop a scowl returns to my face, and I wait for my feet to ferry me to you. Where are you now? What are you waiting for? Surely not for me. You wouldn’t wait more than a second for me.

I race down the sidewalk without a thought as to where my feet are leading me. I step onto asphalt, choosing to stride down the middle of the road, for old times’ sake. A small, dark, hooded figure emerges from behind a bush, brushing past me violently. Surprised, I whip around, only to catch a glimpse of your familiar hair from under your ominous hood. Your fingers wrap around mine, and my heart swells to bursting point. To hold hands once more! But one look in your eyes and it immediately deflates, into a sad, crumpled nothingness. You are not holding my hand. This simple gesture is meant as a goodbye. Harsher, but simpler than words. You squeeze as a reluctant, silent apology. Your fingers begin to slip away from mine, but I won’t let go. I grip your hand tighter, pulling you out of the stride you were about to take. I intend to stay strong, but in this exact moment all the pain that is evident in your eyes is transferred to me. Tears well in my eyes, but I ignore them. Pure, stinging pain bubbles from within me, consuming my body. I want to cry, to scream out, the hurt becomes overbearing. I want to die, make in end!

Now, it is your turn to whip around, surprise and anger brewing at my refusal to let go. Seeing your clouded face drugs me, your eyes bore deep into mine, slowing my beating heart, deadening my soul and rooting my feet to the middle of the road. Shock floods my bloodstream defeating the pain, and suddenly your hand burns in mine. I let go in astonishment and fear. Without skipping more than a beat, you turn once more, and assume the fast pace you had been taking moments ago. Wind whips around you, blowing your hood off, allowing your luscious hair to flow behind you as you rush for the other side of the street.

Instinct overcomes fear and I scramble after you, grasping your hand once more. Now you twist around, wrenching away, but as you see my agonized face, your expression softens. Your hands slip around my waist, pulling me into a nervous hug.

Willing, I entwine my own arms around your waist, pressing in. Your pull back, keeping your distance. I settle my head on your chest, ignoring how your body tenses and recoils at my touch. In the seconds that follow, I feel you relax just slightly. Comfort washes over me, this feels right. I smile, and the words “We haven’t done this in a while” flit through my mind. Before I can even murmur this, you tear yourself away from me, your hands slipping of my shoulders, down my arms (which you extracted from your body) and to my wrists, where you grip them with sincerity. Without even looking in your eyes I know what you’re going to say, you need not utter a word. “Look, this…” I cannot bear to hear the rest. I block out your speech in denial, tuning back in just in time to hear you say “…it can’t be like this…” You swallow, your face contorting. Your final word is “Goodbye.”

I retrieve one of my wrists, but the other is still in your grasp. Your fingers find my hand, giving it a squeeze. I watch as your body turns away, for the final time. Tears once again fill my eyes, and I am unable to keep them in. This is the last time I will see you. Silent salty water, saturated with emotion barrels down my face, and I am motionless in my pain. I can’t hide, can’t cry out, can’t follow or run away. I can only watch you abandon me, not looking back as your footsteps carry you further from my shaking body. Gasping, I draw in a raspy breath as tears still stream down my face, uttering no more than a barely audible whimper.

My mind slowly dims, my thoughts defeated by raw, miserable emotion. My entire being shakes with sadness. Your shrinking figure begins to blur, my love pouring out with my tears. But those dull too, and black creeps in at the edge of the dying image. Eventually, black consumes my eyes, and all that lingers is numb pain. Finally, even that fades.

And I wake up alone.