Disclaimer: I don't own any of the charas, blah blah blah. Neither do I own the song, "Cup of Coffee" By Garbage Summary: Rogue feels the pain of her break up with Logan. My first song fic too!

~You tell me you don't love me over a cup of coffee

And I just have to look away

A million miles between us

Planets crash into dust

I just let it fade away~

I replay the scene in my mind over and over again. I can hear his gruff voice telling me that it isn't meant to be. I can smell the cheep coffee in the café, and the smell of cheep cologne on the man next to me. I can feel my foot siding against the freshly waxed floor. My fingers running against the sugar covered counter. I can also feel the pain of my heart being broken into a million tiny pieces.

~I'm walking empty streets hoping we might meet

I see your car parked on the road

The light on in your window

I know for sure you're home

But I just have to pass on by~

I've seen him a million times in the bar, at his new apartment with his new girlfriend, in the street. I often wander the streets after dark, with my Discman playing my new favorite song, "Cup of Coffee" by Garbage. I'll see his motorcycle as I pass and feel close to tears, but I never cry.

~No of course we can't be friends

Not while I'm this obsessed

I guess I always knew the score

This is how our story ends~

I had seen him flirt with the girl. Her name is Carol, and she is perfect for him. She's beautiful, and doesn't age, just like him. He can be with her forever and even get sexual. Maybe have kids. I wonder what our kids would look like? I often forget we're not together, and I'll try and put a gloved hand in his, or quickly peck his cheek. He asked to just stay friends, but he knew it would crush me.

~I smoke your brand of cigarettes

And pray that you might give me a call

I lie around in bed all day staring at the walls

Hang around bars at night

Wishing I had never been born

And give myself to anyone who will take me

Home~

I took up smoking two days after he left. In the room we started sharing when I was legal was littered with his things, smoked, booze bottles, clothing... I lay in the bed he slept in, crying myself to sleep sometimes. I go out to his favorite bar sometimes and flirt with guys. I often wish I were either normal or not born. Then I would have never met Logan in the first place.

~No of course we can't be friends

Not while I'm this obsessed

I guess I always knew the score

This is how our story ends~

~You left behind some clothes

My belly summersaults when I pick them off the floor

My friends all say they're worried

I'm looking far too skinny

I've stopped returning all their calls~

Sometimes I snuggle into his bed with his clothing; of course we never shared a bed. I could have killed him that way. I cry when I smell his rough scent and feel the rough texture of cloth. I rarely leave during meal times. Too many people telling me I should get over him, that I'm better off without the old grouch. I don't care to hear it anymore. I get food when I'm ready, which is very rarely. I don't care. I won't answer my door either. Kitty can fuck off.

~No of course we can't be friends

Not while I'm this obsessed

I guess I always knew the score

This is how our story ends~

~It took a cup of coffee

To prove that you don't love me~

As I sit in my quiet den of a room, I sip my coffee, typing this letter to no one, and hope that someone finds it and reads it. I loved Logan, but the feeling wasn't shared. I was meant to forever hold a mug of coffee and cry like a little girl.