goodbye, until tomorrow
.
.
─un
Leaving is easy. Leaving is so, so very easy when you put your mind to it. You throw your shit in a bag, shove off your clinging boyfriend and slam the door behind you. The first breath of the air outside your home smells refreshing. You never think that the air in your lungs are already stale like the love that fester in your heart. There's almost tears in your eyes when you inhale, and they fall when you take the first steps on the terracotta path unwinding to the main road. The bag is the only thing that weighs on your shoulders now; gone is that beast called dread hanging off your shoulders leading up to this. Leaving. God, even saying it feels good, huh?
Leaving is such a piece of cake. Look at you with that pretty smile on your face; you'd swiped that taupe lipstick on your upturned lips before you left because, hey, you might have just ended a five year relationship but that is no excuse to look ugly. And look at you stroll up to the steps of Fairy Hills with your shoulders thrown back and your chin tilted high. You wave at Levy who looks dumbstruck to see you, but she puts two and two together (you hadn't been at the dorms since two years ago and you had a duffel with you) so the little woman hurries down from her terrace, probably screaming up a storm to wake up Erza and whoever else was still in there. When the door opens, Levy's brows are knit together and Erza hovers behind her looking sleepy and apprehensive. Laki is there, too. All their eyes are on your bag. Then, on your smile. Did they think they were going to see you cry?
Yeah, leaving is goddamn fucking easy. It totally has nothing to do with you collapsing on the threshold floor with three girls' arms around you as your eyes sting and your tears spill over.
─deux
If you have to hear "What happened, Evergreen?" one more time, you're pretty sure you're gonna jab your pretty amethyst rings into the next pair of lips it comes out of. For days, you proceed in a manner that no one expects from you. Timid and sullen with a chance of you slamming the door on anyone who catches up to you. Even before Thunder Palace happened, you were never this hard to talk to.
You make it a point to eat at the common dining area of the dorm. No need for everyone to think you've gone reclusive. Sad, maybe, but you're not gonna loaf in your old bed that still kind of smells like you and Elfman when you used to sneak him in back then. Or maybe you're just delusional. It'd been months. You make a note to wash the sheets anyway.
Erza is respectful. She is the only one who doesn't ask but she does give you a pitying look when you cross paths, which you just hate. You don't need anyone's pity. No one left you. You wish you can say that but you don't have the energy to explain.
It does come when you tip a bottle of shochu back and pour its burning liquid down your throat. One night, Erza joins you at the dining table wearing her pajamas and bearing a microwaved bowl of leftover paella and a bottle of something ominous-looking. "I asked Cana for one." she says in way of explanation. She's taking out a couple of stout glasses from the cupboards and returns to the table with a raised brow because the mouth of the bottle is already on your lips. "Okay. That works as well." She sits opposite you and gives you that searching gaze again. And you thought you had freaky eyes. "Now you will tell me what happened."
What is it about Erza that inspires a swell of trust? You've heard people proclaim their intent to lay their lives down for this woman. And right now, with just that friendly gesture and a few words, you think you feel the same way.
Your throat is raw when you speak. You haven't talked to anyone in days. "Elfman and I broke up. I moved back here."
"I figured as much. What prompted this?"
It takes you a while to answer. You wish you have an immediate response, something that feels solid and right and not like a mistake you so hastily acted on. 'He cheated on me' or 'he hit me' or even 'he has all these weird fetishes' but it's not anything like that, not even close. You wish it is so you can close the door on it and stop soaking your pillow at night. "Do you ever just feel disappointed in someone you love?"
You see Erza shake her heard. You scoff. Figures. Erza's life is perfect.
Erza continues when she sees the look on your face. "I don't like thinking that my loved ones disappoint me. Disappointment feels so final, like you already decided they will not redeem themselves." Unspoken: and if I have anything to say about it, they will.
"Uh-huh." You don't feel particularly martyr tonight. "Elfman is a child. A gigantic, twenty-five year old child with a ridiculous infatuation with masculinity. I am reminded of that everyday we lived together. I feel like it's just a case of moving too fast and everything falling apart and forcing it to work out until it doesn't and you're just too disappointed to deal with it anymore." The bottle is right there, a friend to the bitterness swelling up in you anew. You drink. Erza watches. "I have a lot planned out. Elfman was in those plans but he's not moving with my timeline. I hate that. I don't like it when my plans don't fall through."
Erza doesn't speak. She's waiting for you to continue so you do. "I wanted it all with him. We already had the house but I wanted more. Maybe it's my fault for wanting more from a man who wouldn't give it to me. I wanted marriage and maybe a brat or two. Even a fucking dog would have been nice. But his head is still in S-Class promotions and he's still a whipped bitch to his sisters." When Erza cocks a brow, you blush to the roots of your hair. "Mirajane and Lisanna are great. I just hate how Elfman puts them first. That sounds horrible, I know. They're family. But why did he ask me to sign a lease with him if he's still hanging around his sister's house any chance he gets?"
Erza looks unsure of what she wants to say. "It's a big change. Elfman has never been away from his sisters. I'm sure you know that with all the trauma they went through, it's hard for them to be apart."
"I'm not saying that! I'm not forbidding them to see him. I just want some time when he's all mine. I can't keep being second fiddle to him when he's first to me." Your lips tremble so you stop. Maybe a swig of that paint thinner will do you some good again.
While you drink and choke on the strong brew, Erza knits her fingers. "Have you told him that, then?"
"Of course I have. He still doesn't get it. He thinks I'm moving too fast when he already signed the lease. As if I'd put a gun to his head and told him to get a house with me. I just don't know how long he's going to live this Natsu life you know? Going on jobs and getting drunk at the guild and getting into brawls. For fuck's sake, even Natsu's calmed down a bit now that he's put a bun in Lucy's oven. I can't wait forever. I'm going to be 28 this year and I don't want to be having arthritis or something when I have to chase my child around. I have plans." It sounds repetitive on your tongue. How many times have you said that to Elfman and he responded with a cold, "So do I." S-Class. But not me, huh?
Remembering it makes your chest hurt again. God, what a silly thing, to be aching over some man. Some boy. Fucking ridiculous.
(Still, you wish you can forget that hard, icy look in his eyes.)
(The slice of his deep voice when he tells you he's not doing anything else for you until he gets promoted.)
(The way the door frame shook when he walked out on countless arguments.)
(The way he leaves for the longest jobs so you can't ask him for the life you want to start with him.)
"Ridiculous." You shake your head. The bottle is empty. How did it get that way? "I'm going to bed. Thanks for the poison."
You don't give Erza a chance to reply. You are already rushing up the staircase because your eyes are doing that silly thing where they hurt and then you're crying.
─trois
Maybe it's not supposed to be easy after.
It's not like in the movies, you find, that the man shows up banging on her door one rainy night bearing a bouquet wilted by his perilous trek through the storm and a speech of regret and apologies and professions of love. It's not like that at all.
He chooses Lisanna as his partner for the S-Class exams and the whole time he is gone with the other participants, you wait. Maybe you guys can talk it out. Maybe you can want just a puppy instead of the whole nine yards. Maybe you can tell him that you love him and you're disappointed but you'll get over it. Maybe you can tell him that even thought it's not enough, you're fine with what you can get.
You never get the chance to.
When the exam participants return, it's silent, it's ominous, it's familiar. You think back to when Mirajane and Elfman came back from that mission without Lisanna. It's a familiar scene indeed but this time, Mirajane brings home a different dead. Elfman's big body is wrapped in tarp and brought in a wheel barrel, surrounded by mourners of every shape and color. Everyone rushes to meet the weeping party. You remain on your seat, immobilized by shock as you stare at Elfman Strauss— correction: dead Elfman Strauss.
You barely hear Mirajane explain how a broken mast turned wild by the angry sea winds had fallen on his and pierced him right through the neck. He'd gargled blood and died while his sisters held him and the others controlled their awry boat. There's something dark on Lisanna's light blue dress. Perhaps that's the lifeblood he'd shed.
─quatre
The funeral is droll, tasteless and bitter. You sit front row with the Strauss girls as chief mourners, wearing a black red and your red-rimmed eyes, unable to speak throughout the ceremony. Your thoughts drift to many things: how ugly Lilies are, how annoying the rain water is when it rebounds on the cement and onto your ankles, how Lisanna's sobbing sounds like cruelty and how stoic Mirajane is, just like you. Maybe, you think in tactless fashion, the novelty has worn off. She's done this for both parents and Lisanna before. At this point, she has listened to a eulogy for each of her family member. This is how you end up thinking that you have no right to grieve beside her: the woman who's buried everyone.
When the dirt is settled and the mourners leave under black umbrellas, it's you and the sisters left. Lisanna walks away first, bundled between Natsu and Lucy who hold her carefully and shield her from the rain. Mirajane holds your hand with the hand she used to stroke the name on her brother's gravestone. She looks fond as she says a final goodbye. How does she do that?
"I'm sorry for your loss," you say, mechanical and dry. It's the first thing you've said all day.
Mirajane squeezes your hand before she dives forward for an embrace. Your umbrellas knocking together is awkward. "And I'm sorry for yours. Elfman loved you very much." Pretty Mirajane Strauss kisses you on the cheek before she steps away. Almost a sister-in-law if things had turned out different. Your eyes are stinging again. "Don't be a stranger, Ever. Me and Lisanna love you as well."
It takes ten minutes for you to calm down and for your eyes to stop hurting. No tears spill over. You look at Elfman's marble and hate him for dying but thank him for the warmth he'd given you. When you walk home, it's almost dark and still raining quite inauspiciously. The roses you didn't have the courage to throw into his grave are still in your hands, its thorns digging into the meat of your palm. You never got your cliched reunion but you still had your stormy night and flowers. It's not enough but it's all you can have.
note: trying out this writing style and i think maybe this is what i'll use for the rest of the breakup series. Idk yet. I know this is a low blow and cunty of me but i do love love love my badends. I'm trying to get over a writing funk so it's not very creative material but i'm gonna be working on it.