A/N:I really tried to make this longer. I did. But… It just wouldn't work. Eh, I like writing short stuff anyway. Written for speedrent, the prompt being the lyric below.
Disclaimer: All credit goes to Jonathan Larson. I just play with them.
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"I didn't know you had to go so soon
I thought we had a little time"
-The Last 5 Years
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Thomas Collins never imagined that he'd ever fall in love.
Back in elementary school, he'd had trouble grappling with the fact that he just wasn't quite as attracted to girls as his friends were. He'd put that aside, though, and pretended to have a crush on Tabitha Simmons. His friends never suspected a thing.
In high school, he managed to get a girlfriend during his sophomore year. But she dumped him for a much more muscular and attractive football player after a month and a half. He had to admit, he wasn't very sad when she left.
And when it came time for prom, only after heavy peer pressure did he ask his best friend's sister Angela to go with him. She'd said yes, but the whole night through he felt as if he wasn't himself, and that ruined his evening.
But last Christmas Eve had changed everything.
From that moment in the darkened alleyway, he saw that maybe love was a possibility after all.
And he fell, hard and fast, for one Angel Dumott Schunard.
The ten months he spent with her were heaven, absolute bliss.
Maybe love didn't always look like a picture-perfect story book. But it came pretty damn close.
He found in Angel that cliché piece of him that he'd been searching for with no avail for so long.
But that feeling of wholeness he'd had was snatched away from him all too quickly.
He knew that their time together was limited, but he thought that they'd have more of it then they did.
Or maybe he just hadn't factored disease into their relationship the way he thought he had.
Either way, he hadn't ever been naive enough to think that they would be together forever.
But he definitely hadn't prepared himself for that kind of breakup.
He'd known it was coming.
He'd been procrastinating. He told himself, maybe tomorrow we'll sit down and talk about it. And tomorrow became the day after that. And the one after that. And the one after that.
Until Angel was in the hospital.
And he'd tell himself, tomorrow we'll talk. Tomorrow.
But he'd been so busy being supportive and trying not to worry her that he'd put it all off for far too long, and by the time he was finally ready, Angel was gone.
Now he tells himself, tomorrow I'll go visit the loft.
Tomorrow I'll try to get a job.
Tomorrow I'll stop screening my calls.
Tomorrow I'll get back out there.
Tomorrow.
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End