¿ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴀʟ? ✰𝘼𝙡𝙚𝙭 𝙏𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙨✮

✰. 40

It's Never Over

✰

One hundred and eighty two days, he's even going through something.

One hundred and eighty two days ago, his relationship came to an end. It was his fault.

In these days of restricted freedom, by his own doing, he would leave his house when he had the chance, wistfully choosing to ignore his friends, and go for a walk around the neighborhood. Though sometimes, he would get carried away and end up in a new place he hadn't seen before.

The sounds of sobs broke his process of walking at random. The sky was murky, as every day was ever since he made his big mistake, and a line of black umbrellas was soon in his vision. He watched the funeral mourners, dressed in black, say their final goodbyes to the tombstone and leave roses on the grass. They left individually, all under their proper umbrella to shield them from the rain that never came. Alex watched them leave.

With upmost respect, he entered the cemetery once they were all gone, doing his best to not step on anyone's grave. He made a beeline towards the recently visited grave with roses, new and old. He read the date of passing and felt his skin start to form goosebumps.

August sixteenth, the date of death, but also the date of his mistake. Ending his love for you. One hundred and sixty-three days before the sixteenth, March sixth, was when you sealed the deal; You were his, and he was yours.

It was his own fault for the all-consuming hunger he felt for your love. The only way he could even attempt to quell it was by losing himself in the memories of you and him together, accompanied by the bitter taste of cigarettes that you despised. He dug through his pocket, fetching an orange and white stick only to realize he didn't bring a lighter.

He took one last look at the grave, his heart heavy with his own kind of grief. He turned on his heel and began to trudge back towards the entrance, pulling his hood back over his head to shield himself from the outside world. With each step, he retraced his path back home, the memories of you still fresh in his mind.

He couldn't escape you no matter how hard he tried. Every time he looked up from what he was doing, there you were, crossing his line of sight and invading his thoughts. School was even worse. You were everywhere, and there was no way to avoid you. It was as if his mind was conjuring up your presence, tormenting him with the constant reminder of your absence. He missed you more than words could possibly express.

Every time he passed by your locker, he couldn't help but be transported back to the moment of making the biggest mistake of his life. He remembered it with painful clarity. He had clutched a piece of paper in his hand, filled with reasons why the relationship need to end, and he slipped it through the crevices of the metal, the sound of the paper rustling inside echoing in his ears. He closed his eyes tightly, breathing in a sharp breath as he remembered what he wrote on the paper in black ink.

'I know this is abrupt. We've only been dating for six months, but I think we should go our separate ways. I feel as if we are still not ready for a relationship of something serious. We are still young and we have our problems.

I notice you've been struggling, too. With what, I'm not sure. You haven't been open to me about it, and I feel that it is affecting what we have. You are awfully quiet when I'm around, and I see you zoning out when I'm talking with you.

I'm not mad at you. I would never be mad at you. In fact, I think I'm only in love with you even more, but this can't work out anymore. I'm doing for the sake of us. I have my problems too, and I want to work on myself before you can get harmed.