The hardest thing was waking up without her, Lucas thought. Her sleepy eyes blinked open, slowly and she smiled, drowsily, wrinkled her nose at him. She laughed and made fun of him for watching him. He would lean over and kiss her, and her lips would come to life against his. It would start as lazy, little pecks and then grow deeper, so deep that he thought they might sink into each other. And then she'd pull away and fall back onto the pillow and with sleep still in them, she smiled with her eyes again, and everything would be quiet and still and perfect for a moment.

Lucas was a romantic. He wouldn't deny that. But he wasn't stupid, and he wasn't naive. He knew that they weren't different than any other twenty-somethings in love. That scene played out decades before they were born, and it'll keep playing decades long after they both die. Lucas knew it was playing out right that moment, while he sat at the park bench they used to go to, far earlier than he was used to waking up. He imagined the other couple - maybe she wasn't blonde, maybe they were older, maybe they didn't share an apartment but a house, maybe he actually put a ring on her finger like Lucas always swore he would, maybe she didn't give up, and maybe he didn't give in.

They weren't anything new. They were just another couple who couldn't cut it in the end and had to give up.

It was uncharacteristically warm that day in Central Park. New York is usually colder this time of year, Lucas learned that when he first moved there. He remembered meeting her on the subway, and in spite of himself, Lucas found himself smiling at the memory. He didn't know where she was now. Maybe she was an ocean away, or maybe she was down the street, getting coffee at her favorite cafe and leaning over the counter asking the barista about his grandkids.

He remembered the conversations they'd had together, late at night when the sky was tinged purple and the moon was a sliver behind the clouds. He remembered talking about where they might live one day. He remembered Maya turning down an internship in Seattle at last minute because they wouldn't be able to be far away from each other.

They had to try now. They had to try to live their lives without each other, and this time, they wouldn't be able to close the distance between them. It was time to try. Two weeks in and Lucas wasn't doing so well. He sipped his coffee, black, like she liked it, but he wished he added more cream, because it was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

He remembered the way she looked up at him that last day, just before he left. Her eyes were soft around the edges like they were those mornings. But this time it was with sadness, worse than he'd seen her wearing in years. He wondered if she was sitting somewhere else remembering too. He couldn't ever find the words to explain how her eyes looked that day, big and round and wet, but she wasn't crying.

After all they'd been through, for it to end so quietly - well, Lucas couldn't quite believe it some days. Towards the end, he'd always expected them to go out with an exclamation point, a door slam. But if they were a story, then the last sentence would end with three dots left unanswered, drawn to a silent close.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Two weeks drew to a month drew to two months. And things were different than Lucas thought they would be. He wasn't looking for anybody like he used to. Well, one person, one person who wasn't coming back. But a pretty girl would smile at him at the grocery store, or his cousin's friend would try and start a conversation and he would always find some way to excuse himself. He reassured his mom he was looking, but he wasn't. Lucas didn't know if he would ever look again. But the rest of his life was a long time, and it wasn't looking like he'd get to spend it with her, so he had to spend it with someone. But not yet. There was still time.

He didn't feel like he was spending his time anymore, rather drifting from day to night to day, falling into the nights and wandering into morning. He remembered that last day, hearing the apartment door shut behind them. She asked him if she could walk him out, a little nervously, and Lucas couldn't remember the last time she had been nervous around him. He remembered the sound of their footsteps seamlessly falling in sync, something they'd gotten used to after walking in the park or to the store or to their cars together.

He remembered pausing at the corner, where she would turn around and he would keep moving forward and maybe keep moving in opposite directions forever. He remembered her turning to him and looking at him with that look in her eyes that he still couldn't describe and he couldn't remember what she was saying, even though at the time he swore he'd remember forever.

He didn't know where she was. The apartment had been rented out by someone else. There was another couple in the bed, smiling at each other in the half light of morning. She could be in Seattle for all he knew. But he could still feel the imprint of her lips on his forehead from that last day. He could still feel her heart pulsing next to his, and then drawing like a tether to wherever she was. He wondered if she could feel it, too.

Lucas looked out at the ocean, the waves kissing the shoreline and then destroying it, wiping away sandcastles, keeping it from ever staying the same. Someday, maybe a million years into the future, the ocean would be all dried up, and the sand would finally get to stay how it was left, except no one would be around to see it.

He closed his eyes, feeling the wind press against his eyelids. He could still see the way she looked that last time. He hadn't seen her since. That was no way for it to end. But it did end. It was over. They couldn't pick the way it ended. Lucas was going to have to learn to live with that.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Sometimes, when he woke up, he could still see her. Her blonde hair turned golden by the sunlight, splayed onto the pillow like streaks of lightning in the kind of storms they'd sit at the window and watch. Sometimes he could still feel the warmth of her lips against his. He could see it, back in New York, another couple in their apartment. The couple who'd signed the papers. He wondered if they looked at each other like Lucas and Maya looked at each other once. He could almost see another couple, too. Deep within a forest, lying together in a small, cozy cabin and smiling at each other the same way. History repeated himself - he'd learned that much with Mr. Matthews.

And maybe it would. Sometimes Lucas thought about how it might have been if only one thing was different. He didn't think like that anymore. What was the point? What was the point of talking about love that had turned to pain, or sad eyes on a street corner or things that wouldn't change? There wasn't one. Lucas had learned that now.

It had been a year. And still nothing from her. Lucas sipped his coffee, a milky brown, with the extra cream he'd put in. Coffee in Paris was better than it had ever been in New York. He didn't know why that was. But he had needed a change and when he kept seeing blonde hair duck into a subway car and a toothy smile flash at him outside the window in the cafe they used to go to, he figured it was time to finally leave. She could still be down the street, and she could still be oceans away. Lucas didn't know. But he wasn't going to worry about it anymore.

If they were going to be together, then they were. And he'd have to trust that it would happen someday. And if they weren't, he'd have to get on with things. After all, it ended with those big, sorrowful eyes staring up at him and silence so heavy it felt like it would break him. He remembered now, what she said.

"I didn't think it would end this way."

He didn't think so either. And so maybe it hadn't ended. After loving so fiercely for so long, maybe there was more for them after all. Maybe it wasn't goodbye. And maybe it was. He'd just have to wait and see.

Lucas took another sip of his coffee and smiled. It really was beautiful view.