He handed me the journal we shared to pass notes in class. I flipped through the words as air left my lungs. I felt like tears should be streaming my face but nothing came out. I was dry. He was angry that I didn't tell him everything, that I am a liar. I knew I wasn't. But I wasn't the one that needed convincing. When his constant word-stream ended, I closed the book and stared at the back cover. It took me a few minutes to realize that the word best-friend had been crossed out. My stomach clenched. "If that's the way you want it," I whispered to myself and slowly scribbled those words besides his. As soon as class was over, I didn't even wait up for him, I just let myself leave. I didn't want to wait for more pain. I lost my best friend.

My steps were empty echoes without their constant companion to walk besides them. I could hear his voice coming from behind as he jumped into his boyfriends arms the way he always does. The way he greats it with nothing but open arms and steady footing. Everything in my vision was breaking. I couldn't cry. I needed to, and I wanted to, but I didn't. I left the building and I didn't wait for my ride that day. I didn't want reality to catch up. My black colored converse slapped the pavement. My P.E. clothes tugged at my skin. I just let myself go, all my thoughts, feelings, memories. I became vacant. People and cars passed by me without any notification of their existence in my world. What world? I lost my world, and I wasn't getting it back.

I didn't know where I was or what I was doing. I was away from me. The sense of dread cradled me closer. This was a place of nothing and everything. Houses lined the sides of the small street. The downtown mall not far from sight. I walked around, waiting for reality to hit me. Waiting for that stinging pain of loss. Yet the whole never sucked me in. My books became wet from the drizzle. I looked up, I hadn't even realized it was raining. I sneered at the melting words of my English paper.

After that day, I didn't look for him in the halls, I didn't call or write. All I ever did was focus on the forward movement of my feet. Time to me was an immeasurable object that carried more emotions for me then hell itself. I was winded of my past. The long breathes and hurricane speed exhaustion ended silently. I sat alone and I wrote to myself. This is what it truly feels like to be thirsty when you're surrounded by water.

I remember looking at suicide notes, wondering why I don't do it, and loving that I haven't. I knew I couldn't let my life dwell on him, even though, that's all I wanted to do. I missed his words and our laughter. I also missed his hugs and kisses. All in all, he was what made me get up in the morning.

People say I dwell on things past normal level. I know I do, then again, if I didn't, it wouldn't be me. I was being pulled by his gravity. And honestly, it was killing me. I didn't want to be me anymore. So, I didn't go by Roxas anymore.. I threw that name away. Rox was gone. I wrote my full name on the paper in front of me. Roxas Strife. Roxy was an automatic no. That's the name I wanted him to call me. Roxan…heh no. All I was left with was Strife. I cursed myself and went about rearranging those stupid letters to make a new title for myself. Strife, Stif, Stir, fri, tie. The more I wrote, the more I hated my name. "Why didn't my parents just name me Shit, at least then I could be called something reasonable!" It was after I screamed those words that I realized I was the one shouting.

I closed my eyes as his words drowned my own thoughts. He never wanted to see or speak to me again, and those words broke me. I was invisible to him, but in the end it didn't matter, I needed to move on with my life. He was a wonderful chapter in it, yet he was a finished sentence. I closed my phone after deleting him as a contact. I rearranged my speed dial, and decided to take a shower. I entered the hot water, letting the steam envelope me. The water blended my tears into nothing.

It felt good.

I glanced out of the shower curtain to the picture of me and him. His brown red hair tangled with my blond. Everything about that picture seemed wrong now. I closed my eyes.

"Sora..." I whispered into the endless steam.

I was creating my own illusions. The hidden truth about my tears. So is this what a true goodbye feels like?

And somewhere inside me, I knew the answer was yes.