AN: This story happened very randomly. I've been suffering from severe writer's block and knew I just had to start writing something (anything!) to help me. And I think it worked. I'm already working on my next chapter for "Renaissance." Please leave me a review and tell me what you think. Enjoy!

Fallout

At seventeen, falling in love with her best friend was as effortless as listening to him talk about the stars as they laid side by side on a rooftop. His language often went over her head, but it was the excitement in his voice that got her heart to start noticing. At seventeen, she wanted the rest of her life to start as soon as possible. Denying her feelings for him would only delay what would eventually come to be.

Thinking ahead wasn't in the plan, because living life unexpectedly was more important. She had loved him platonically for two years already so loving him fully for the rest of her life would be easy.

At twenty-one, the familiarity of loving him was as overwhelming as gazing at a dozen falling stars. It was safe, because they were all each other ever knew about love and speaking in poetry under the sheets was comfortably second nature. Their relationship was hidden from the world save for their direct families. They were accepted years ago, because being with someone for four years is an accomplishment many are unable to reach.

Thinking ahead wasn't in the plan, because the well-known day to day routines predicted their future. She had loved him fully for four years already so loving him for the rest of her life would be easy.

At twenty-eight, the enclosed restlessness of having him as her one and only was as hard to swallow as knowing all the stars she observed have already long ago burned out. She felt like a bird in an open cage. Ironic. Free to go yet staying where it was safe. Safe was no longer the pleasing, heart-warming sensation she once had, and was in fact getting replaced with resentment and indifference.

Thinking ahead wasn't in the plan, because thinking back about possibly wasted years was all that clouded her vision. She had loved him so passionately for eleven years that she had essentially forgotten about herself and what she never accomplished.

At thirty-five, the regret of staying as long as she did was as painful as laying out in the sun all day and not knowing sunburn had set in until it was too late. She noticed his avoidance of her because of her indifference and it almost made her hate him for wondering if she should continue fighting.

Thinking ahead had to be in the plan, because in a few short years, she would be forty. She had wanted to attend college. She took online classes and received her degree, because leaving him for four plus years at seventeen was out of the question. But she never got the full college experience. And she regretted it.

She had wanted to attend concerts and plays with him, and have a picnic in the park with him, and go to a few fancy dinner parties with him just so she could dress up for him. All of this seemed so worldly when she was twenty-one that it didn't seem like something to linger on. Her happiness was in him and for him, friends, family, and the world be damned. But hiding herself away for all those years finally took its toll. And she regretted it.

She had wanted to get married. She wanted the full experience with the dress, the cake, the flowers, the songs, the guests, the honeymoon. But all of that was part of living in a material world, which she didn't. She lived in a dark and hidden world, but the one she loved more than anything was trapped in a realm that encapsulated her without resistance. But being a part of something that was essentially not normal made her heart bleak and bleed with bitterness. And she regretted it.

She had wanted children. She wanted to feel life grow in her belly and her soul and watch as her body accommodated to her baby who would fill any void her life ever had. Having more than one could have been considered, but that new experience that could only come with the first time got her aching for something she knew would never be anatomically possible. But her biological clock was close to ending so she would never know. And she regretted it.

So she started to leave without saying anything. She would meet someone else. Someone that she might never love as much as she once loved him, but who could help her get what she never had. She knew she should've terminated what they had first, but the uncertainty of finding happiness outside of him made her hesitate. Losing him would send her over the edge if there wasn't someone else there to put up guardrails.

At thirty-seven, she met someone normal. He took her to dinner and concerts, held her hand as they walked down the street, and showed her off to his large circle of friends. It was what she wanted. So she went to do the one thing that was standing in the way of the rest of her life.

She told it to him straight. Years of pent up animosity had made her cold toward his feelings, because he should have done something to help her years ago. But she was shocked when his response, or lack thereof, matched her callousness.

"After this long, you're not even going to fight for me?"

"After this long, I shouldn't have to."

So she left without even taking her belongings, because holding onto those things would remind her of him and he was what she wanted to forget.

At forty, she was married. They lived in a studio apartment where she worked a first shift eight-to-five job and he worked a third shift ten-to-seven job. When he told her he loved her, she smiled softly and would respond me too until the day she answered with I want to have a baby.

Thinking ahead was in the plan as they began looking for a bigger place, doctors to interview, and names they both agreed on. She had loved him for what he was about to give her and loving her child for the rest of her life would be easy.

At forty-two, she finally was able to get pregnant. A miscarriage four months later. The doctors said she could try again, but the pain she felt was larger than when she was completely childless, so she put the idea behind her as a dark undercurrent entered her soul.

Thinking ahead wasn't in the plan, because the thought of caring about anything exhausted her. She had loved someone she never had the chance of meeting and someone who would never forgive her for what she did to him five years ago.

At forty-five, she was divorced. The last decade of her life swam through her mind in a haze and she wondered if she'd ever be as happy as she was at seventeen. Thirty years ago, she had met her soul mate and had let him go due to forces outside of his control. She knew what she was getting into and she promised to love him anyway.

Thinking ahead was in the plan, because she swore that she would one day return to him. The world was a cruel place that gave only to take away and she wanted the sanctuary that came with being with him. But she was frightened; if he treated her half as bad as she treated him in the past, she would go insane.

At half a century, she went to the place where she had lived with him and his brothers for years. But as she looked around at the emptiness, the realization of knowing it was too late clenched her heart into a torture she hoped would never inflict her again.

She had loved him. But it seemed like a huge portion of their relationship was nothing but a falling action that never got resolved.

And she regretted it.