She looked into my eyes and I could see my sadness reflecting off of them. This is not what I want, this was never what I wanted. I want her to be happy, regardless of me, regardless of how I'm feeling. She deserves to be happy. It's me who doesn't.
I looked down at my feet, carefully mapping out my next move, making sure there were no loose ends or gaps. I told myself that she wouldn't question me. Why would she? Well, after all this time I'd question myself too. I almost backed out. Almost pulled her close to me and explained to her that she's my world and I've loved her from the beginning; but I can't do that. I've made up my mind.
"Sarah," I said, looking up into her eyes, "I don't want you to talk to me anymore. I think it would be best if we just didn't talk anymore. If we went our seperate ways." I pretended I didn't see the pain flash in her eyes before the amusement.
"This is a joke, right," she asked with a shaky smile, "you're just kidding. Like those posts on Facebook or the chain letters that go around in texts or emails." I stayed silent, searching the room with my eyes for something that didn't exist.
"Come on. Drop the act, girl. You're starting to scare me." I looked back up into her eyes and I could see the fear, the utter fear that she was about to lose who she believed she would never lose. Like when your first love decides to move on. The look you get in your eyes that you can never shake. The fear and the loneliness. The utter fright, that's the look Sarah had right now. I had to look away.
"I'm dead serious Sarah. You aren't helping me and I'm not helping you any. We've never been that great for each other and everyone around us knows it. You know it too, somewhere deep inside. Don't you, Sarah?" She looked at the wall to her right.
We had spent two months painting that wall, a little more every week. Yet every time I looked at it, it seemed to be missing something. It had quotes, inside jokes, pictures, and little pieces of us and our parents on it. There were shards of my mothers mirror that I went in and collected after the fire. Sarah had stapled up a bunch of pictures her and I took at the movie theatre, and her dad's old bandana. I could see slivers from my first set of drumsticks, and tickets from going to the local fair with Sarah and a few of our friends. Looking back at Sarah, I saw the little strand of hair that had fallen out of her otherwise flawless up-do. I reached over and tucked it behind her ear and placed my hand under her chin, carefully nudging her to look at me.
"I loved you yesterday, I love you still..." I looked in her eyes and I saw tears forming, but paired with a smile.
"I always have, I always will," She finished. I leaned in slowly to kiss her and she leaned towards me. Our lips met and it was just like the first time I had kissed her. Nothing has changed. The electric feeling of her lips on mine, the speeding of my heart, and the gnawing feeling I got that it was so wrong.
I quickly pulled away and hugged her tight. Getting up and walking towards the door, I saw the tears flow down her face. I wanted to run back to her, to hug her and tell her I'll stay. I blew her a kiss, and walked out the door and down the street to my home. Once I stepped inside, I breathed in the familiar scent. Walking over to my desk, I wrote a quick note which they would find once I was gone. I went into my room, set all of my stuff where it should be, and tidied up a bit. Then I reached under my bed and grabbed the little box that was pushed in the hole in the wall and pulled it out. I opened the box, took out what was in it, shut the box, and put it back in its spot.
I stood up and looked around, taking in my surroundings one last time. I had the gun raised to my stomach when I heard the sound of a key in a keyhole, and then the opening of the front door. I paused for a moment and listened to the footsteps rushing to the door of my room. I saw her standing there, tears and mascara streaming down her face. My last thought before that gun went of was, "She is so damn beautiful."
