The Ghost of You [COMPLETED]

Tension

"Um...I don't know if it was the last thing, but..the biggest thing was...the thing that I still don't really get was you sending me my things." You whispered. His jaw tensed, and he moved back, ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry."

"There was no explanation. No message. That hurt. Even just a 'this isn't working, I'm going to send you your stuff' would have helped." He stayed silent. "So why didn't you?"

"Cos ...it hurt me too." He admitted. "It hurt knowing...knowing it was over, but neither of us were saying it. Everytime we talked it was either us arguing, or it was just so difficult. And I got back from the tour, I was unpacking my things, and I kept finding your stuff. Before I knew it, I was putting it all in a pile...then I just thought that it ...I had no reason to keep it. You were staying in another country for at least two more years, we hadn't talked in a few weeks at that point. It felt like ...giving it all back was the right thing to do. Could have done it better though, I will admit that."

"Just a tad. But I suppose I get that...neither of us were talking. I think it was the shock more than anything. So thank you for explaining." He nodded. "Your turn."

"Um...the biggest thing for me, I suppose, was...when you left."

"You knew-"

"No, I know, it's not that I didn't know you were leaving. It hurt when you ...when you actually left." He chewed his lip for a second, staring down at his lap as you frowned. "I always had some kind of hope, something in the back of my mind saying that you wouldn't go. That you would realise that you still loved me and stay."

"You think I left because I didn't love you?" You whispered, and he looked up at you. You could see the look in his eyes that told you that's exactly what he thought. You felt yourself wanting to cry. You reached for the vodka bottle again. Wordlessly, you both had another shot. You inhaled before speaking again.

"I left because it was right for me." You said. "For my education, my career. I needed to go. Just like you needed to have band practice six days a week. Just like when you took days off college to drive across the country to play gigs. I stuck by you then."

"Well, for some reason, I couldn't handle you leaving." He admitted. You sighed. "I was a kid." He continued. "The band was getting recognition. We were getting somewhere. You telling me that you wouldn't be there for it was..."

You put a hand over his.

"Like I said, it was something I needed to do for myself. It was in no way related to how I felt about you."

"I know that now. But back then, it just felt like...it felt like you were abandoning me. It made me angry."

"Well that made me angry. Cos it felt like I was there for you, but you didn't want to be there for me."

There was a brief silence in the room as you both reflected on what you had said.

"You know, if we were this mature back then, I don't think we would have had so many arguments." He smiled. "We could have actually articulated it a little better I think."

"Quite possibly." You laughed. "But when you're a teenager, nothing is ever that articulate." He took your hand in his, turning it over so that your palm was facing up. His thumb grazed over the small tattoo you had at the top of your wrist.

"It all seemed simpler back then." He muttered. "Being together. Once you left...it never seemed simple. It felt like we were never on the same page about anything." His eyes focused on the tattoo. "I still can't believe you let Isaiah do this to you."

"My wonky cat? He's my favourite." You grinned, as you also looked down at it. "Even if it was his first and last stick'n'poke tattoo he ever did."

"Okay." He announced. "We've done the big ones. I need to go toilet, and then we can carry on."