She holds the ceramic powder-blue mug in her hands and blows the brown caffeine-filled liquid to let it cool. It's her mug. It's your apartment. She looks up at you the first time that night. You say nothing. You simply watch. You know what this is about. You've been waiting for what is to come. She puts down her mug that she always uses when she comes over onto the empty counter. And she speaks to you for the first time that night.

You changed.

It echoes through your mind and your heart aches with that simple phrase.

You're not the same person.

It sears into your memories, and all you know is that it hurts. You don't want to listen, but your body steels itself.

I don't know you anymore.

You gaze at her, and you speak to her with your thoughts, I don't either.

You choke on the atmosphere. Make it stop, please. Just.

Make. It. Stop.

I don't know what happened.

You don't know either.

But, we can't keep on tricking ourselves like this.

You panic. Don't say that, don't…

You're not the same person I met all those years ago.

You know.

You think you know.

You lost that spark in your soul. You lost the shine in your eyes. You lost yourself.

You want to say that over all things, you just don't want to lose her.

I don't understand.

For a moment, you just want her to understand. You want her to stop for a moment and see how much you've suffered.

I forgot you, did you forget me? I think you did, if this is what you've become.

No. You never forgot about her. Why is she saying this? You think but you will never know.

Things have changed. We drifted apart, it's about time.

What... are you saying? You tear at your skin. You don't want to hear the words that are pouring out of her mouth.

You scream. CAN'T WE START AGAIN?

She shakes her head.

And says her goodbye.

And walks out the door. Out of the building. Out of your life.

You sit.

You cry.

And you wonder why.

And you never get up.

You hate yourself and how you can't seem to let go.

You hate the fact that she can't understand.

You hate the fact that she doesn't want to start again. Or is too cowardly or stubborn to.

You hate the fact that she hates you.

But, you can never bring yourself to hate her.

And eventually, you start to hate yourself too.

And you sit, and cry, and you wonder why, and you never get up.

You're still looking into the distance and you can hear her soft, but clear voice.

It's been a year. A year turns into two, into three, into four, into five and the years will come and go.

But you still sit, and you never get up.

You still think of her, and the years have come and gone.

And the apartment building that you lived in all those years before has just been demolished to create some sort of eco-skyscraper.

And you live all alone, in your head, in this empty room, in this lonely nursing home.

You still think of that day. Never stopped, really.

And you never forget her, even though she forgot you.

And now that you think of it.

Her ceramic powder-blue mug still sat there on the empty counter.

And you wonder if that's the reason why you never forgot.

AN: So. This was emo, yeah? Hahahaha I guess I just wrote it based on the relationship between my childhood friend and I, so it all just came ouring out :) I love writing angst :DDD HAHAHAHA! Anyway, thanks to you people who took the time to read this random vent fic. I hope you liked it!

-Andromeda Luna