Before this begins, I need to warn you. Do not skip this author's note. This story will contain things that can be considered triggering. If you are triggered by self harm, please, do not read. I will try my best to put a warning in the chapter's author's note, but if you decide to read on, I warned you. I am putting personal experiences into my story because I feel like the need to be known, and for people to realize that it isn't romantic, or make someone that you care about instantly fall in love with you. Depression is a mental illness, not a way to get attention or a great way to get your story read. You have been warned.
I smile at my boyfriend who is walking ahead of me, toting a huge stuffed bear that is dragging on the board walk. He turns and his face lights up with a crooked smile, his dimples popping from his cheeks. My heart melts and I think of how great these last two years have been. But, for some reason, I can't shake this negative feeling. I push it from my mind and catch up to him, and grasp his free hand.
"Logan, this day has been incredible," I tell him as I rest my head on his shoulder. He nods and we make our way through the carnival's gates and we trudge back to his car. The drive back home is quiet as I think of the greatest day of my life. Logan had picked me up this morning and we did various things through the day. We ate lunch, walked through the park, and even visited where we met. I smiled at everything. I hadn't even realized we were almost at my house. Logan pulled into my drive way and shut off the car. He quickly jumps out and opens my door for me to get out. As I walk up to my door, Logan calls my name, and I turn to face him, my grin fading from the serious look on his face.
"What is it sweetheart?" I question him, taking a step back towards his direction.
"Look, babe, we really need to talk," Logan says, frowning. My hear drops, and my eyes widen.
"What is there to talk about?" I reply, nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"Whitney… I love you. I have from the get go, but... I'm leaving in a week. You know that," he tells you, raising his hand to rub the back of his neck as he averts his gaze from you. Your heart beats faster; you can't seem to catch your breath. You can't believe what you're hearing. Sure, you've talked about this, but that was months ago.
"I got signed… It's official," he continues," which means I'll be gone for long periods of time. Gone from you."
"Logan… Please." You beg him. "Don't do this. I would wait forever for you. What's a few months?" He sighs again.
"It's not just a few months. Whitney, I can't keep you just waiting around. I wanted this to end on a happy note. I tried my best to make today good."
"Good? Logan, today was perfect, but now… Please," I beg again, fighting back the tears that are threatening to pour over.
"I'm sorry. I refuse to leave you here to have no way to see me. I can't let myself be the reason you sit around here, thinking of me and not living your life," he finishes and turns back to his car. "I'm sorry. Just remember, I love you." He steps into his car, and like that, he left my driveway, and my life.