❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞
"Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?"
"Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...
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Elliot looked at himself in the mirror, properly. There was a glare of sunlight projecting a halo onto his reflected image, blinding his eyes for a second as the harsh shine got caught in his eye. The bright light left a melting shadow on his eyelid, messing with his vision for a few long moments as he continued to stare at his reflection. Which was just as well, really, because he was beginning to hate the idiot staring back at him.
He was tall, his reflection, a little lanky once you took in the lack of muscle. Which was all well and good, because that's what Elliot expected to see when he looked in the mirror. What he did not expect to see, however, was a clean shirt (as in one that he had, in fact, not, worn for days on end) and jeans that, as far as he could tell, had no holes in which, considering his uncanny ability to always fall on his knees, was a miracle in itself. Not only this but his hair was combed. Combed.
Elliot didn't recognize himself. And that was frustrating because he had put so much effort into looking nice. Which was the real problem, in all honesty, because he could not remember the last time that he had put this much effort into his appearance. So now, when he actually tried (as his mother had been suggesting for years) he neither felt, or looked, like himself. He looked like an imposter, a substitute Elliot, who was going to be the complete asshole who broke up with his girlfriend over absolutely nothing. Which, to tell you truth, was probably why he dressed up in the first place. So that he wouldn't look like himself. So that he could pretend that he was somebody else. To pretend that he had changed so much that he couldn't possibly date her.
But that wasn't the truth. Yes, Elliot had changed. It would be impossible to go through what he had and not change. But he wasn't breaking it off with her for that reason. No. He was doing this because he couldn't fall out of love with a girl that he was never capable of loving in the first place. Yes, Maddie was a wonderful, wonderful girl. But he couldn't...he couldn't try to force feelings that he didn't have. If he attempted to, they would both get hurt in the process.
Which was why...which was why this break up had to be completely honest. If he was going to hurt Maddie, which was inevitable, then he had to do it the right way, with everything out in the open. She deserved that. And he just hoped that she wouldn't hate him too much because she was one of the thing that had kept him floating all these years, the fact that he didn't love her in a romantic way would never change that.
He ran a hand through his combed hair, messing it up as much as he could before going back to the chest of drawers in the hopes of finding a dirty shirt and a pair of ripped jeans.
