Summary: You're not lost. Literati. Songfic.

A/N: It just seemed to fit. Jess and Rory have lost themselves.

Disclaimer: The only things I own are my lovely books and cds. That's it.

He sat on that bus and watched her leave. It had almost broken him to watch her, but he couldn't tear his eyes away as she glanced back at him one last time before stepping off the bus and walking out of his life. Reading his book had proved an illegitimate distraction from the pain he tried to quell inside of himself. Now he was across the country, calling her like some desperate, lovesick idiot – which he was. Worse, she picked up the phone and he found himself completely unable to talk. When he'd told her, so long ago, that 'the verbal thing comes and goes', he never expected it to play out in such an ironic tragedy as this. It was like his vocal chords were paralyzed at the sound of her voice. But, oh, that sound. He called her just to hear her say hello a few times, then hang up.

He tried not to remember how the past few months had fallen together. Looking back, he recognized every moment that chipped away at their relationship. Every word that added another nail to their cross. Every glance that pushed them closer to the edge. In retrospect, he could see clearly that they were doomed from the start.

But before...

While they were together, he was sure they were meant to last. He had been trained since childhood not to have hopes or plans, but she had given him both. Almost forced them upon him. He'd planned on taking her to her prom, visiting her at Yale, driving her home on weekends. He'd hoped for a future of her.

Now he could see that the writing had been on the wall from his first day in Stars Hollow. The first day he met her. Now he knew that it was inevitable. Obviously, the only good thing in his life couldn't last. They never did. He flunked out of school, his father showed up, Luke kicked him out. He had no other choice but to go. They were just not meant to last. He wished he'd known that before. He would've spent more time with her, stored up more days with her. Or maybe he would've pushed her away sooner, beaten the inevitable to the task, made less memories so he'd feel less hurt.

He dialed her ever-familiar number and heard her answer. He hung up quickly, but was overcome with the longing to hear her voice again and dialed again. She answered and she said hello a few more times. He relished the sound of her voice. There were a few moments of silence and then, "Jess, is that you?"

He inhaled, sharply and silently.

"Jess, I'm pretty sure it's you and I'm pretty sure you've been calling and not saying anything but wanna say something."

He tried. He did. He tried to speak, but there were no words to express his thoughts, his pain, his regret.

"Hello?"

He gave up trying to speak, and let her. He listened to her admonish him for the way he handled things, rebuke him for leaving without saying goodbye again, and assure her she wouldn't pine for him. With a sharp pain to his chest he clung to her words as she confessed that she loved him, then told him she wanted him to be good. Her voice was like air to him, and her words pierced him through. Then she said goodbye.

"That word sounds really lame and stupid right now, but there it is. Goodbye."

She hung up. He lingered a moment with the phone to his ear, trying helplessly to hold on to someone not there. The dial tone glared angrily in his ear and he placed the phone back on it's line.

There had been tears in her last word, he thought with some anguish. She was crying.

I can't believe it's over
I watched the whole thing fall
And I never saw the writing that was on the wall
If I only knew
The days were slipping past
That the good things never last
That you were cryin'
- Lost by Michael Buble