Last night I heard my own heart beating

Sounded like footsteps on my stairs

Six months gone and I'm still reaching

Even though I know you're not there

I was playing back a thousand memories, baby

Thinking 'bout everything we've been through

Maybe I've been going back too much lately

When time stood still and I had you

It's been six months, but I am still affected. I'm like a ghost. I'd think I was dead, but I can constantly hear my heartbeat thumping away like footsteps or a drum or something equally as cliché. It kills me. I couldn't sleep last night. All I could think of is how he left me, how he didn't open the door. I've been miserable ever since.

Maybe I'm always miserable. Maybe that's why he didn't open the door. But I feel a different type of miserable, like no matter what I did or said on the outside, I'd never get over him. I just replay the memories of him, of us, over and over in my head, thinking about all of our problems and how we didn't try enough to fix them.

Maybe I'm over-thinking it. People say that good things fall apart so better things could fall together. Well, screw them. I hate people. And now that he left me, I hate EVERY person. But maybe there is a reason that we broke up. I cannot think of one reason. I was calmer with him, more easy-going. Sure, I was a handful, but I didn't think I was worth leaving.

I reached my arm out last night. My room was dark and empty, pitch-black from the nighttime sky and lifeless. But I reached my arm out, hoping that he would take it, that he would comfort me, singing me to sleep like he had done so many other times. Deep down, I knew he wouldn't. I knew he wasn't there. But we've been through so much together that I like to pretend that I still have him sometimes.

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You would, you would if this was a movie

Stand in the rain outside 'til I came out

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You could, you could if you just said you're sorry

I know that we could work it out somehow

But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

I don't beg, but I wish I could. I wish I could swallow my pride, or Beck would swallow his. I wish that he would show up at my door, take me in his arms and apologize to me for making me wait this long, for not opening the door when he had the chance. Like a movie scene, he could stand in the rain, throwing pebbles at my window until I finally looked out. I'd smile, maybe fake my anger at first. But we both know I wouldn't be. We could work out every problem, we could talk about it. We could be US again. If only he'd knock on my door, or find me in the hallway at school, or call me. But he won't. If he wanted to do that, he would've. He just doesn't love me anymore.

I know people change and these things happen

But I remember how it was back then

Wrapped up in your arms and our friends were laughing

'Cause nothing like this ever happened to them,

Now I'm pacing down the hall, chasing down your street

Flashback to the night when you said to me,

"Nothing's gonna change, not for me and you

Not before I knew how much I had to lose"

People change. I should get used to that. I myself have changed. I've grown up. And people break up, they move on, they live their lives. I just can't stop remembering how it was in his arms. He was warm and safe, never afraid to admit his feelings to anyone. He had nothing to hide.

Our friends laughed at us, well, Beck's friends. But he would always smile and say, "You only laugh because you haven't been in love." In love. He was in love with me. Was. Past tense. Was.

I run from him when I see him in the hall. I can't stand to look at him. All I see is what was, what could have been, what isn't. Sometimes, I take walks by myself, stroll down his street at times I know he won't be out. I just like to remind myself what I had, what we had.

One night, Beck took me to the park at midnight. We sat on a bench and talked for what seemed like hours. It could have been forever. I felt so happy, so giddy. Spontaneously, he kissed me. Something about that kiss was special. Sure, we've kissed before, and after, even. But that kiss was different. It was so random, so amazing, so... perfect. I felt like the world could stop then, stop spinning, even end. My life was complete as long as I ended it with Beck Oliver. He pulled away, though, much to my dismay. I asked him what was wrong, why did he pull away? His response left me speechless.

"Nothing will ever change for us, Jade. Maybe relationships falter, but ours won't. We're perfect. I can't lose you. I can't even fathom being without you. I'm completely in love with you."

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You would, you would if this was a movie

Stand in the rain outside 'til I came out

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You could, you could if you just said you're sorry

I know that we could work it out somehow

But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

Beck, please come back. Just a simple sorry, a small sucking up of the pride. I mean, sure, I could apologize too, but it would mean so much coming from him, the heartbreaker, the one who didn't open the door. He should have. Well, I wished he had. I wonder if he ever thinks of that too. We are what could have been, and now we're nothing, a distant memory left behind.

He must not love me anymore. If he did, he'd be here; I'm sure of it. He doesn't want to work out our problems, to solve them and move on from them. He must want something else from life, someone else.

If you're out there

If you're somewhere

If you're moving on

I've been waiting for you

Wary since you've been gone

I just want it back the way it was before

And I just wanna see you back at my front door

And I say

Oh, where are you, Beck? Probably at home, on The Slap, video-chatting. Maybe he's on a date, moving on the way I should. But I can't. I've been waiting for him since he left me, since he decided that he didn't love me anymore.

I wanted to go downstairs, open the door to the vast night sky and find him. But he won't be there. Just like he isn't there now.

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You would before you said it's not that easy

Before the fight, before I locked you out

But I take it all back now

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You would, you would if this was a movie

Stand in the rain outside 'til I came out

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You could, you could if you just said you're sorry

I know that we could work it out somehow

But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

He'll never love me again. I'm too whiny, too possessive, too jealous, too controlling, too completely imperfect. He is too good for me. He deserves someone as good, as perfect as stupid Tori Vega. Hell, he's probably better off with Trina than with me. At least she'd compliment him, be nice to him. She'd give him something that I'd never be able to.

I turn on the TV, trying to clear Beck Oliver from my brain. The Notebook is on. I gag, flipping the channel. Just my luck, another romantic comedy, Valentine's Day. I turn off the TV. If I don't get a Hollywood ending with Beck, why should I watch beautiful, happy, rich people get their? That's not my kind of entertainment.

You'd be here by now

It's not the kind of ending you wanna see now

Baby, what about the ending

Oh, I thought you'd be here by now, whoa

Thought you'd be here by now

It's almost noon on a Wednesday. I should be in school, but I cut. I couldn't go, couldn't stand to look at Beck, laughing with perfect Tori Vega or someone else equally as revolting. My parents are at work, and I feel completely alone. The only thing that reminds me that I'm not in a trance is the sound of the rain on my doorstep.

I used to like being alone, having time and space for myself. Now, I hate it. It just reminds me that I have nobody. Nobody who cares enough to comfort me after my breakup, nobody who would EVER show up at my doorstep and tell me that they're sorry. I have nobody.

The doorbell rings, the pizza delivery guy. I rush to the door, not worried about the tears that are still running down my face. The thought of Beck always makes me cry.

I open the door, handing the guy the money. I look down; I know it can't be someone I know, but I always feel pathetic when I cry, even to strangers. I'm pathetic in general.

"It's on me."

I open my eyes, the shoes suddenly familiar, the voice, in which I only hear in a dream these days. I look up, lock eyes with the one person who I'd hate to see me like this, that I both hate and love more than anything.

"Jade, I'm sor-"

I don't let him finish, pressing my lips to his. It should be an awkward kiss, him holding a pizza, but it isn't. It's perfect, like a make-up kiss should me. It's long and passionate and filled with more emotions than any of those lousy ones you see in movies.

We stand on the doorstep kissing, both of us drenched in rain. I finally pull away.

"What took you so long?"

"I didn't know what to say to make it as perfect as you, as us."