❝ Sometimes, happy endings hurt.
Sometimes, the best endings were the ones you rejected the most.
Sometimes, all that's left to say is goodbye. ❞
➛ a judah lewis fan fiction
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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
I. Don't. Love. You. Anymore.
I'm paralyzed. What should've been shock and grieve dissipated after those five words choked out of his mouth. He hadn't quite paused as much as I may have thought he did, but I really couldn't pinpoint the exactness of his line delivery. I thought to myself, I should really make note of that, as if I'd miss the frequency in his voice and possibly could just be misinterpreting that whole sentence. I should really write all of this down, I wouldn't want to forget it.
I sat there completely emotionless. I just listened. I sat in his passenger seat and could only think of how I should probably change the lockscreen on my phone before I walk home because that'd be quite an awkward thing to look at later. His words felt so muffled after that, like I'd turned a TV show on for background noise. I was thinking, definitely thinking but I really wasn't sure what I was thinking about.
"Aren't you going to say something?" He sniffled, his eyes were puffy and red. His whole cheeks drenched in tears. I couldn't read him the way I used too. Wasn't I supposed to be the one crying? What's wrong with me?
I remember the first time I saw him cry so vividly. It was the first time the phrase 'break up' had ever been used in our joint vocabulary. I had said something stupid like I always did; something I definitely didn't mean and his eyes filled with tears, they fell silently. My heart felt like it had dropped to the core of the earth and all I wanted to do was hold him.
I don't feel like that in this moment. In fact, I'm not sure that I feel anything at all.
"I 'm not sure what you want me to say." The words slipped out between my lips before I could do anything. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I'd almost always known exactly what to say to him. What to say to make him smile, what to say to make him laugh, and what to say to make him hurt. Those words particularly might've hurt him, but I really didn't mean for them to. Honestly, I wasn't sure what he wanted from me after that. I think I knew deep down already that it was over.
When I say 'it' I mean the light we had, I was tired and I think I can confidently say now that he was too. These last few months felt performative, overwhelmingly so. I found myself not wanting to talk to him, I found myself acting the way I did at work or at school. Molding my jokes and my topics of conversation into the things I thought he wanted to hear. Maybe I broke character without noticing, but I really couldn't figure out what felt like me anymore.
We had finally dimmed. No fire, no sparks, and no light.
