Shawn Mendes one shots

"I wasn't ready to say goodbye." | line blurb

38. "I wasn't ready to say goodbye."

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Shawn's already sat on the swing at the neighbourhood playground a few blocks from his parents' house. It's around two in the morning, you're a little drunk and it's rather chilly. You haven't seen each other for a week and though you haven't talked to one another either, you know this is the place to find him. 

Your relationship hasn't been the best, you both know it, but it's too hard to talk about it. All you ever do is bicker about stupid little things, argue about stuff that doesn't matter and sleep with your back towards each other. You're still sharing a bed, but Shawn feels like a stranger to you. 

"Hey." You mutter when you drop down on the swing next to him. 

"Hey." He replies. "How did you know I was here?" There's no anger in his voice, but you can tell he's just as tired as you are. Constantly arguing with each other is exhausting. 

"You're always here when things are rough." You shrug your shoulders, eyes darting around the empty playground. "Where have you been staying?" You ask him, locking your hands around the chain. 

"At Brian's." 

Shawn leans backwards on the swing, shutting his eyes shortly while taking a breath. You can tell his body is vibrating with emotions he can't really control. You don't blame him, you had to down a couple of beers to take your mind off things. 

Neither of you speak, but you feel the bitter tension hanging in the air. You don't want to talk because you don't want to fight all over again. Your feet are circling the ground, pushing around the sand framing the swing-set underneath. 

There's a bundle of knots in your stomach and it's beginning to give you a stomach ache. You haven't slept much lately and you barely touch any food, you feel besides yourself. 

"How did we end up here?" Shawn breaks the silence and looks to the side to find your eyes. You can tell he's been crying, they are red and expanded.

"I don't even know." You sigh, your throat tightening as you speak. "I think we forgot to love each other at some point." 

"Yeah, maybe." Shawn says, shaking his head at this mess. "I don't want to feel like this. Have all this hatred against you. I don't like it." 

When you look toward him again, you see the pain in his eyes and it makes you sick. You love Shawn, you have since you were teenagers. But to be honest, you fell out of love a while ago but continued to live in denial. 

You never did stop caring about him and you know you still love him, but it's different. It feels different. It's not the same kind of love that used to be. 

There are no butterflies and a spark, no ground shaking under your feet when he looks at you or the feeling of home when you're close to him. 

"I don't like it either." You say as tears begin to fall from your sore eyes. "It's always been you and me." 

"And now we can barely be in the same room without arguing." 

Shawn mutters and you feel the pain in your chest because you know he's right. You force some air into your lungs, ignoring the growing pain in your chest. 

"We aren't even friends anymore." You blur, slightly suffocating on your cries. In all honestly, that makes you the saddest. 

You can live with going to bed separately, not having the same intimacy and love between you and the feelings fading out.