She had enough; it was his fault. She's healing; he's still torn apart. She knew it was time to let go; he knew she's moved on.
"'Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even."
Does it?
cover: koalanindya
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He had no idea why he did it.
He had no idea why he liked a picture of her with another guy holding her waist.
When he first saw the photo -- she smiling in that endearing way of hers and that blonde guy holding her the way he had held her -- he almost hurled his phone against his bedroom wall.
The blonde guy obviously liked her. That smile on his face, that gaze he was giving her, the way his arm looped around her waist - even the densest person in the world could figure out that he was head over heels for her.
So he had no fucking idea why his thumb clicked the little heart button in his phone screen.
Maybe because she looked so breathtakingly perfect in the picture. Maybe because her endearing smile reminded him of those smiles she flashed to the cameras everytime she was with him.
Maybe because he felt blinded by nostalgia for the good old days-- him attending red carpet premieres with her by his side, supporting him, gripping his hand encouragingly under dinner tables, giving him encouraging kisses when the cameras weren't turned their way.
Maybe because he wanted to catch her attention.
Maybe because after seven months, ten days, and four hours of crying her name, he missed her.
