I never wanted to say goodbye; to see his face again and not be able to bring myself to leave…
So I didn't.
I had left without a word, or even a single note that night.
It wasn't that Matt would have given me hurt, dejected looks, or have asked me to stay, or even have asked to go with me. No, Matt was not that type of person; he would never do anything that he thought would hold me back.
"Mels," he would say, his voice and face not betraying a single negative emotion, "go do what you have to," He would put on a mask of indifference so thick that even I would have had a hard time seeing through, and hide all the hurt and loneliness deep inside.
I swore that I would leave him alone, and out of all the shit I was going through—and I had honestly thought that I would…
But I didn't.
That night, when I had blown myself up along with the base, in a hazy dream of a moment, I had made the mistake to dial Matt's number on my cell.
"Matt…" I had managed to choke out before passing out.
And so he came and brought me back from the gates of Hell, and at the same time, I had dragged him into my living hell of a life.
And tonight, I had lost Matt forever.
As my hands shakily clicked off the news broadcast, I let out a barely audible cry.
Once. Just this once, when it had mattered, I wish I had had the chance to say goodbye.
But I didn't.
