So I mean what's it been. A year? More? Is this fandom even still a thing? I don't know. I don't really have an excuse other than brutal break up and then subsequent depression, but I did write a little during that time and I fixed this piece up to share with you all.

For those of you who know my writing, this isn't really a signal for my return. I don't think at least. I don't know if I'll update anymore or even write, but I at least wanted this to be posted. Thanks for sticking with me and maybe see you again.

Trigger warning: depression and suicide

Happiness was fleeting. There and gone again, caught in small snapshots, happiness was not something that could ever be achieved long term. Beca learned this oh so very long ago, a lesson learned from childhood after countless letdowns and disappointments, she learned that happiness was what you made it out to be. Nothing more, and nothing less.

There was no secret to it, but there was also no key to it. No one got to stay happy. Some learned complacency, but true happiness. That spark you got the first time you rode your bike alone for the first time, the initial surprise of a party for you, ice cream on a hot day, those brief flashes of pure happiness? They did not last. Beca supposed that they weren't meant to. Happiness was a drug that everyone was addicted to; everyone chasing after those elusive highs, spending all their money and time for that one perfect high. After all, how else could you ever properly appreciate something without feeling the opposite?

But then she met Chloe. Bright, bubbly, happy Chloe, Chloe was Beca's personal brand of happiness. Her drug, her high, her everything. Chloe made her HAPPY. Every kiss felt like the first one, and for a year, Beca was happy. She'd found the jackpot! An endless supply of happiness, the high that she never came down from. In fact, was like she wasn't chasing the high, but the high was chasing her. Every moment with Chloe was a new high, a perfect high that she thought would never end. She was soaring to the top with no fear of falling.

But of course she fell. You know the story. The perfection that gets tarnished. The small gestures that stop happening. The midnight fights and early morning messages. The castles you build that slowly crumble around you as you frantically try to patch them. Trying so fucking hard to keep your happy little place on the hill intact but it's no use. It never is.

People leave. It's just a fact of life. No matter how hard you try, people will always leave you, and with them, they'll take back their piece of happiness, and they'll take a little piece of yours with them. So when Chloe finally left, tired of the fighting, tired of trying to fix something that couldn't be fixed, Beca's supply was cut short. Her happiness was gone with a note on the bed, a clean closet and an empty parking space.

Just like an addict going sober, it hurt. It hurt a lot and she cursed the sky, cursed the gods, curse Chloe and happiness. Because she knew better. She really really did. She'd already learned her lessons so long ago. She knew the dangers of chasing happiness, of trying to hold on to something that was never meant to last. But like a fool she fell for those pretty lies and promised beautiful happy futures. Blue eyes and shimmering red hair, an angels voice whispering sweet nothings, and a smile to match her smirk made her forget about the lessons and rules she made and now she was paying the price.

God she was such a fool.

She'd gone so high and now that she was tumbling down, no way to stop, she didn't know what to do. How do you fill that hole? How do you continue without that happiness you'd grown so accustomed to? She had actually forgot what this felt like, that dark, creeping feeling you only got when you were alone in your room at midnight, trying so desperately to do anything at all to ease the ache. The hole in her very being was gaping and jagged and try as she might she couldn't fill it.

She kept up a good show for everyone of course. After the acceptable time for sadness was up, she smiled again, picked up where she left off before Chloe, and his every trace of the hole in her that she could. Oh sure there were cracks. She didn't go out as much as before. When she smiled, it never reached her eyes like when she was with Chloe. Everyone ignored it though. It was a rough break up right? That takes some time to get over.

They didn't know, couldn't understand how Beca just COULDN'T get over it. Hell she didn't even try to claim she understand it. Maybe if she could, she could find a way to make it hurt less. But all she knew was that Chloe was everything. Chloe was her first and last thought everyday and in between and Chloe was the reason she actually stayed in Atlanta because though the Atlanta music scene was harder than LA's, Atlanta had Chloe and Barden, and Chloe made Beca feel like she could have it all, was WORTH it all. It was all lies though because now Chloe was gone and she was so TIRED.

She was tired of pretending. Tired of the disappointment. Tired of feeling like this. Tired of not feeling. Her soul was just tired and she could go on and make some flowy, poetic bullshit about how she felt, but fuck who gave a shit? She was tired and now she wanted to sleep.

Walking out to the balcony, Beca looked up at the night sky. Atlanta was too bright for her to really see any stars, but at least it was clear tonight, and she could see the moon. She really did love the moon. Before her mom died, she used to tell Beca that when Beca felt scared or alone, all she would have to do was look at the moon and remember that they were both under the same moon. So she stared at the moon, felt the cool breeze all around her and slowly, painfully, the corners of her mouth quirked up into the semblance of a smile.

"Good night Chloe," Beca whispered to the moon, to the night, to her love, to this life.