To Be Only Yours

I am not going to cry. I will not cry. I refuse to cry. I had my pride to think about. Under no circumstances will I cry; I am crying. No, I'm literally weeping. There are salty tears streaming down my face. They won't stop, no matter how hard I try. Why can't I stop crying? Right, I'm in love with you. That statement is laughable. I am more than in love with you. Saying that I'm merely in love with you is like saying the sun is only a little bright.

I will myself to stop crying. I'm tired. You're coming over in a little while, to return all of my things that I've left at your house. It's only been a few hours, yet here you are, trying to erase me from your life.

Today I broke up with you. Why? Well, you were beginning to fall in love with me and we couldn't have that, could we? Me? Love you? Ha! That ship had sailed a long ago. I had tripped and fallen flat on my face for you faster than a blink of an eye.

I guess I still haven't answered your question. I saw it in your eyes. It broke my heart. I saw all of the hurt, pain, betrayal and disbelief that was in them. Everything was going perfect, until I turned around and stabbed you. Not in the back, no I did in right in your chest with a smile on my face. It was ten times worse.

There I go again, off on a tangent. I'm just tired. You said you loved that about me. That's how it began. You would tell me that you loved my hair, loved that colour on me, loved my smile, and loved my laugh. I knew what was coming, so I had to end it. A clean cut before everything collapsed. Of course, everything collapsed anyways.

Sorry, there's another one of those dang tangents. The reason I couldn't let you fall in love with me? Well it's quite simple to be honest. I didn't want to hurt you. It's because I love you that I have to let you go. Do you understand?

What am I saying? Of course you don't. This is difficult. It is nearly impossible to get this straight in my head, especially because my dang heart keeps interfering. This is confusing and I'm tired. Let me tell you, straight and simple why I can't be with you. I cannot be with you because-

Ding dong. I take a breath and pull the door open. There you are with a box in your arms and a mask on your face. I hate it when you get like this. I don't like it when you try to hide your emotions from me.

"Where do you want this?" You growl out. There it is, a break in your mask. It only slips for a second, but I can see it. The pain is still there. I swallow. I ended this so that the pain wouldn't be there. Yet here it is anyways. I don't want this for you. You deserve better.

Wordlessly, I step back and invite you in. I'm hoping we can get this over with quickly, but at the same time, I don't want you to leave. I want to savour every second I can have you here, in my sight, within my reach.

I watch as you put the box down, my eyes lingering on your body, on your hands as they place the box down. I'm tired, but I can't stop staring. I will myself not to blink because I don't want to miss a second of being able to look at you.

You hesitate for a second before rising. Your back is stiff and I sense the indecision in your posture. Suddenly, you turn around. The mask has dropped, as has my heart. Your eyes are in so much pain, and they hold so much anger. Your body is tense, defensive. You stare at me and only one word comes out of your mouth.


Why? Why you ask. Well, it's stupid and not stupid all in one. It's like a movie, where you're yelling at them to quit being idiots and just be together. But in the movie it's all okay because you know it'll end happily. I wish my life was a movie. If my life were a movie, I would get my happy ending. More importantly, you would get your happy ending. I'm tired of this, I'm tired period.

"Is it important?" I ask. I know if I tell you that you'll pity me. I don't want your pity and I don't want to see that look of concern you get on your face. It pulls me in. I want to be taken care of, but not by you. I'd just end up hurting you far too much.

Evidently, that was the wrong thing to say. Your face falls, you're not angry, you're not hurt. It's far worse. You're broken. I was too late. I shouldn't have let it go this far. You love me. This realization breaks my heart because I know I'm breaking yours.

"You're asking me if it's important?" You whisper sinking onto the ground.

You're about to speak, you're about to say something that'll melt my heart and my resolve. I can't let that happen. I turn around and grab a few things that I have that belong to you.

"Here," I say, practically throwing them at you. "This is all I have of yours."

You look at the items and then back at me. The expression on your face is that of incredulity and disbelief. "No, this isn't everything. You still have something of mine."

I'm almost afraid to ask, but I have to. "What?"

"My heart, my life. Then again, those were always yours to begin with."

I can't take it anymore. I have to tell you.

"I still love you. I have loved you all along and I will die loving you." You have no idea how accurate that statement was.

"Then why?" You're voice holds so much agony, I can't take it anymore. "Be with me."

"Is that what you want?" I ask tiredly. I've already given in. You don't need to ask me to be with you. I can't be any other way.

You stand up so fast, and grip my arms, willing me to understand. "Yes! That's all I've ever wanted, and that's all I'll ever need. Please, say you'll be with me, that you'll come home. No explanations needed."

I smile a bittersweet smile and lift my exhausted eyes up to meet your anxious ones. "I'll come home."

The elated look on your face stuns me. I can't look away. I want to memorize this look of absolute happiness and at the same time, I want to shut my eyes from it. This happiness is only temporary. Before long, I'll be breaking your heart all over again.

Your arms are around me; your lips are fused to mine. I'm tired.

"But there's one thing," I say as soon as you've given me a chance to breathe.

"Anything," you say bringing your forehead down and pressing it against mine.

"I have to give you an explanation. I owe you the truth and then you can decide if it's worth it, if being with me is worth it."

"As long as I get to see you, to hold you, to love you. As long as I get to wake up each morning and your face is the first thing I see. As long as I get to go to work and miss you all day, then go out to dinner and see everyone hanging off you're every word and know that you're mine. I'll be anything for you. I'll do anything for you. Do you see what you've done to me? I'm yours."

I shut my eyes and sigh. "I have lymphoma."

You blink confused for a second, and I smile at the adorable way your eyebrow creases.

"It's a rare form of cancer, sweetheart."

You're eyes widen in realization, and the determined look on your face is back. I know that look. You would be willing to die in my place.

"We'll find the best doctor for you. I'll-"

I cut you off. "I'm tired."

You're suddenly moving around trying to make me comfortable. "I'm sorry, I've worn you out."

"No baby, you don't get it. I'm tired."

You're not listening. You pull me to the make-shift bed, which is basically a white queen-sized mattress on the floor.

"Rest," you say, and I pull you're hand.

"Baby, I'm tired."

Your eyes dawn in realization and as my eyes begin to droop I can make out the movement of your lips. I love you.

I smile and my eyes shut.

Dum dum dum dah! What happened there? Do you know? Do I even know? Le sigh. My sad, or not, one shots. Alright, the standard questions: guy or girl? Dead or alive? Happy end or sad?