All Your Little Things

Chapter 33- Giving Up Is Hard to Do

Elizabeth

Holy shit. It was becoming too much, all of it is. I had no idea what I was even doing anymore. 

I sat in London Heathrow airport, trying to figure out what to do. I had my two bags. Niall had not followed me.

I had hurt him. He was not one to give up easily, but still refused to come and try to stop me. 

We both needed this though. We were both getting sucked in way too far way too fast, and we were both falling apart. I had been feeling trapped. 

I needed to figure myself out first. I was only nineteen for god's sake. Niall was twenty-three. He knew what he wanted in his life. If we were still in love after I found what I needed, then we could get back to where we left off. 

I knew I might be setting myself up for failure. So much could happen in the time we were apart. Either of us could realize how crazy we were and never want to go back.

I was ready to face all of these consequences. I had to. 

So I wiped my eyes of the tears that were streaming down my cheeks, and I got up.  I walked up to the ticket counter. 

"May I help you?" The lady asked.

"Yes one ticket to Cleveland, Ohio, please."

"Alright, I have a flight to Chicago and a connection to Cleveland."

"Yes that's fine."

Niall

I watched as she slammed the door behind her. My head hung low as I walked back to my room, and I avoided talking to everyone else in the room. 

"GOD DAMN IT!" I shouted, slamming the bedroom door. I threw a pillow across the room. I sat down on the bed, running my fingers through my hair. 

'I should chase after her.' I thought. I stopped myself. She did not want to be chased after. And why should I? She just yelled in my face and blamed me for her problems.

But it was my fault in a way. 

God, I felt terrible. I loved her so much, but both of us were slowly, but surely, falling apart. We both realized that, and it hurt me to realize it. 

What if she never loved me at all? Maybe I needed to move on. Maybe the relationship had been like a drug. Maybe it was bad for us to be together.

I laid down on the bed, and I felt some tears escape my eyes. She was the girl who made me cry over her.

I remembered every little piece of her. I could hear her laugh, and I saw her smile. I could hear her arguing and yelling and dancing around the room. She screamed lyrics and jumped around. She listened to me, and gave me advice. She was my best friend.

I remembered her fighting, too. She was hard-headed and wanted her way. She cried a lot because of me. She was too sensitive and never had filters on what she said. She stayed up too late and talked too much. I loved her because of all those things, though.

Our love was good and bad, I guess.

I had no idea what to do, but I stayed. I needed to let her go. We would find our way back to each other.

Maybe not.