Two months don't make it hurt any less. It had been two months since Amy had last seen Evan. He broke up with her then, and a week later was going out with some model, Riley. In those two months, Amy had cried, yelled, screamed, and tried to forget. But two months don't make it hurt any less.

But he had called. He had called two weeks ago, and set a dinner date. He said he was sorry, and he left Riley. Or rather, Riley left him. So he came crawling back.

And she had said yes. Those two months of waiting, wishing, hoping; they were over. He was back.

Amy was blind to his faults. She never wondered what happened in those two months. She just hoped. It was her life.

It was selfish of her, she knew, but she wanted him back so badly, she deluded herself into thinking he was going to come back and carry her away.

And he had, in a sense, freeing her from her prison of depression. Dan wasn't terribly happy; he saw through Evan's guise. But he supposed it was for the best, because for two months, Amy had been depressed. So he couldn't be that bad.

So here Amy was, piling her hair on top of her head, trying to make it perfect for him. She was all ready for dinner, with a few minor adjustments, when the phone rang.

She picked up. "Hello?" she asked.

"Hello, Amy. It's Ian."

"What do you need?" Two months of hurt and pain hadn't made her bitter, but receptive. She decided to hear him out.

"I was just wondering if you'd meet me for dinner, love. I have a favor to ask." Typical Ian: only calls when he needs something.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'll have to decline. I'm already going out to dinner with Evan." She sighed, ready to hang up.

"I saw him out the other day with that Italian girl, what was her name?"

"Riley."

"Yes, Riley. I saw them out the other day, laughing and talking. You may want to be on your guard."

"That's over now. She left him. He loves me." The desperation in her voice betrayed how much she was trying to convince herself of that. Ian politely pretended not to notice.

"I just saw them at the mall last week is what I'm saying. Just, do yourself a favor and be on your guard." He actually sounded concerned. Amy almost laughed at the thought. Ian? Concerned? And most of all, for her? Unthinkable!

"Thank you. I will. Goodbye," She said, and she hung up. Muttering to herself, she stuck a couple bobby pins in, holding her hair in a bun. She picked up a small silver locket from Ian. Looking at it, she put it back in the drawer. Keeping other options open, she thought to herself. Just on the off chance he's right. She picked up a different necklace, one from Evan this time, and as she was fastening it around her neck, the phone rang. She ran for it, dropping the necklace, which skittered under the dresser. Cursing under her breath, she picked up the phone.

"Hello?" she said as she ran back to where the necklace had fallen. She reached her hand under, but she couldn't feel the necklace. Sighing, she stood.

"It's Evan. Listen, about tonight..." he trailed off.

"What about tonight?" Amy asked tentatively. This was not happening - it couldn't be! Not after two weeks without pain, without crying, without sadness.

"Riley and I met the other day, and we're going to try and make it work. I'm sorry. It's for the better." Amy's hand trembled, and her muscles gave. She fell onto the bed, the phone skittering under the dresser to meet the necklace.

"Amy? Amy?" the voice through the receiver said. "Fine. Be that way." A click sounded, and he hung up.

Amy stood up numbly. She reached under the dresser, this time finding the phone and necklace. She pulled them both out.

She started dialing Ian's number. She wasn't going to spend another two months wishing, hoping, crying, and moping; she was going to call Ian, and go out. It would be a shame to let this outfit and planning go to waste.

She opened the apartment's window. Taking Evan's necklace, she threw it as far down the street as she could. She watched with grim satisfaction as the silver reflected the sun, plummeting down to earth.

She was finally taking her life into her own hands. Because two months don't make it hurt any less, but one decision just might.

So, a random drabble that turned into something relatively longer than a random drabble. I always wondered how Amy would take a breakup, because she's so delicate. But what if she realized that it wasn't her fault?

And thus, this story was born. It sort of grew on its own, and the end result is nothing like I pictured. She was going to go crying to Ian, but now she is taking her life into her own hands. I like that.