I wanna put warnings, but I don't want to because it'd actually spoil the endings.
And I'm planning on making little mini-covers to put on for the pictures ^^
Oh, and this should be renamed Frerard Imagines.
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When I tried to make you better, you pushed me away, saying that everything was fine. The both of us knew that, of course, that this wasn't true. You acted as if you were ignorant, clueless of the situation, but I wouldn't have any of it.
I then tried to set you up for therapy, but even then, you wouldn't show up. I'd have to pay double the amount because the therapist that showed up wasted an hour there waiting for you. I still paid, though, thinking that one day that you'd feel guilty in wasting my money.
Everyday you seemed angry at me. Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said? You made me feel... Anxious. You made me feel nervous about every little thing that I should pass by with a breeze. You made me feel like I looked ugly, just by your words that tore me inside-out.
I tried to help, but you pushed me away. I alone felt like it was an unhealthy relationship, yet you didn't say anything about it. I decided against if you knew deep inside, yet didn't show it. I wondered if that's what made you angry at me all the time.
Your sudden mood swings scared me. You'd go from completely grumpy to a sobbing mess, but then the next day you'd be happy, in fact wanting to go on a date with me and try to fix things up. Every time you'd ask, I'd reluctantly accept, yet sometimes it'd either end up a disaster or a hot mess when we came home.
The only reason why I stayed with you is because before all this, before we had even gotten together, you stayed with me when I was alone. You let me cry in your arms, and you'd always try and brighten me up on my worst days. In turn, I'd sit and listen to you vent out all of your pent up emotions onto me, and I'd try and do the same. I'd give you advice, help you out, but when you told me that you liked me, I lied and said that I liked you too, just to make you happy.
I didn't want for you to get hurt. I'm just that type of person, and it's happened before; with Jamia, Bob, and even your ex, Bert. The same with you, is that I didn't want to hurt them.
One day you were just angry at me, and ended up slapping me. You hurt me in a way that I never thought that you would before, but it happened. It would be the last time that we'd ever talk.
Two words. That's all it took.
"We're done."
You hurting me in a way that hasn't happened before, with you, scarred me. It hurt me mentally, and every day, I'd look back at when we used to be together, when we used to be friends.
I should have told you that I didn't like you in the first place, and had hurt your feelings before you could ever tear out mine.
