AN: I'm sure you thought that after such a long time, I might so kind enough to update my other story, Why Me. Well, I'm sorry. I felt like writing a little oneshot, and I decided to right a -sort of- depressing one. I AM NOT DEPRESSED. And I'm really sorry for not updating my other story; I'll try to do that asap!
.::.
Gone for Good
There is darkness all around me.
Deep, piercing black,
I cannot breath,
My heart has been raped.
The pain is everlasting,
I miss you so much, babe,
Wanna hold you in my arms again, girl.
-Stan Marsh
.::.
Why is it that the people we love the most leave us? They just rip our hearts out like we don't mean shit. They stomp on our souls, and leave us battered and half-dead. 'Maybe if you're lucky, you will still be friends,' people say. Friends? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I laugh at that word. Boyfriends and girlfriends will never regain the full level of friendship they once had. But I know better than that, anyways. She hates me; it's obvious. How couldn't she? All of the hugs, kisses, and love that we shared meant nothing. It was all just a waste of my time, a waste of my life.
Her. She just left me, left me in the cold and let me wallow in pain. Do you know what I did? I cried my heart out to her. I told her that she meant the world to me, that she was my everything, that I loved her. And then she uttered two last words that pierced through me like a rusty knife: "I'm sorry."
Why didn't she just kill me right then and there? Now I might have to kill myself since she couldn't do it. Anything is better than this pain, than this misery.
Believe me, I'm no pussy. I'm not a whiney faggot either. So I don't know if what I shouted to her was either of those, or neither. All I knew at the time was that I wasn't going to go crying to her feet and beg her not to go. So I just sat there, and watched her figure fade into the distance. Did I mention where this happened? It was in the middle of some random, deserted part of town, next to a freaking alleyway. Oh, and it was also raining. Wow, this couldn't sound more like a set up.
I'm sure you want to know more about that night? This wasn't the break up between me and her when she left me for Token back in fourth grade (although this time she broke up with me was the same alleyway that the Goth Kids and I found Butters crying one night way back when). Oh, hell no. We are seventeen now, and this is different. We had been back together for years, and I knew that she was the love of my life. Well, I thought that I knew. It turns out that she had other plans for her future, so she left me because apparently I wasn't part of those plans.
Oh, by now I'm sure you're just dying to see what really happened that night in the alleyway, to see if what I'm telling you is what actually happened. I'm sure as hell telling my story right. Why don't you join me in my gay little flashback so you can see for yourself what really happened…?
.::.
As we walked down the deserted alley, one lone street light illuminated the dirty pathway we stepped on. There were the little lights of the letters that stood out from the bars and strip clubs, but those only shone two inches in front of them. However dull, they were cracked, broken, and some weren't even lit.
Hand-in-hand, I guided her when it got too dark for either of us to see. I stepped in front for her before she stepped down so I would be sure she wouldn't step into or onto anything grotesque.
Up ahead of us, another light began to shine, dim with the fog, but still obvious. While we continued onward, I decided to strike up some simple conversation.
"So," I began, "how did you like that movie?"
We had just gone to see some horror movie at the cheapest theatre, because, being teenagers almost out of high school, we were poor and decided to spend our money more wisely since our parents wouldn't pay for us. Unfortunately, the cheapest movie theatre in town was at the outskirts of South Park, where all of the gangsters and strippers hung out.
She sighed. She just hadn't been the same lately. There had always been a special gleam or spark of happiness in her eyes, but it was gone. She hadn't been eating well, and she most definitely was sleep deprived.
I turned around and looked her full in the face. She had definitely seen better days, too. Supporting her obvious case of insomnia were purple shadows underneath her weary brown eyes. Her hair looked thinner and had lost its shine. A little part of her black eye-makeup was smudged, probably due to the tears that had flooded her face towards the end of the movie.
I decided that it was too much, and that I need to figure out what was wrong with her. I held both of her hands between mine and looked her deeply in the eyes.
"Wendy, please, tell me what's wrong, and I can help you," I whispered pleadingly.
She looked up from the ground she was staring at, and smiled a broken, half-hearted smile. It looked quite distorted on her face, seeing as I knew her as a beautiful and happy girl.
"Stan, I…" she looked down at the ground again. "I… I'm breaking up with you." Her voice cracked.
I might as well have been dragged through a sea of razor blades. "Ex-…Excuse me?" I whispered, trying to make her lock eyes with mine. She did, and they just looked… tired, like they were just done with everything.
"I'm breaking up with you," she repeated, this time in a more firm tone.
No. This couldn't be happening. My whole world was falling apart underneath me, and there was nothing to catch me when I fell.
"You're… you're breaking up with me?" I breathed, still not quite understanding, although I knew she was serious.
She gave me a look full of unspoken apologies, and only nodded.
And that's when I fell. Not only was my world crumbling underneath me, but I literally fell down onto the dirty pavement. Wendy didn't catch me.
My body shook with silent sobs, but no tears escaped my eyes.
"Stan, please get up," she whispered pleadingly, actually sounding like she cared about the condition I was in. I felt her light touch to the fabric of my jacket as she tugged light to signal for me to get up. I would do anything for her, so I obeyed.
As I stood up, I wiped my hands on my jacket which left slight dirt stains on the front of it.
She looked me up and down with sad understanding and then uttered, "Well, goodbye." And she turned around briskly, her long raven hair flipping, and began to walk away.
No. She couldn't leave me. She was my reason for being; what would I do without her?
"WENDY, WAIT!" I shouted after her, for it was my last chance.
She whipped around with some reluctance, and looked me straight in the eyes.
"What did I do wrong?" I asked, my voice choked up and small.
Rain began to pitter-patter across the vicinity we were in, and I could have sworn I saw tears of regret in her eyes. She just shook her head, giving me a sad look that must have ripped my throbbing heart out of my chest.
She began to turn around again, but I addressed her once more.
"Wendy, please! What did I do? I can improve it, I swear! I'll do anything for you; you're my life!" I called.
She kept walking, but I tried again. "Please! You mean the world to me, you're my everything! I LOVE YOU!" I yelled. At the last phrase, she paused momentarily and then turned around once more.
Because of the loud pounding of the rain, and because of her considerable distance, her last two words were barely audible, but they still killed me inside.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, and then turned around without another word and jogged away.
I fell to the ground, and I felt as if I was drowning. I never resurfaced.
.::.
…So you see my claims were proven correct. The love of my life just left me, and I basically died inside; there is just no other way to put it. I never did figure out what was wrong with her, nor did I ever figure out why she broke up with me. I never see her anymore.
As for my life now: I play it cool. I try to be normal for everybody, to be happy for everybody. But I'm not really happy, nor do I think I ever will be. Kyle tells me that I have to forgive and forget, but it's not that easy. At least I don't dress like a faggy goth kid and write poems about death; that's what I conformed to during fourth grade, but I know better now.
Now I know that you can't trust love. I guess I'll just have to live my life and hide everything inside.
She is such a bitch. I hate her. But I don't hate her because I hate her; I hate her because I love her. Wow, that's a mouthful.
.::.
In the night I here em' talk, the coldest story ever told
Somewhere far along this road he lost his soul
To a woman so heartless
.::.
AN: Reviews are appreciated! Again, please don't be mad at me! I apologized! =]]