Author Notes: There's nothing to say, really, it's a story about heartbreak and failing to move on. It'm my story and I just used Darren Criss and Chris Colfer to illustrate my feelings. No harm is meant and I don't know Chris nor Darren. This was just written for my catharic purposes.

Also: NO character bashing is meant to be happening here! It's a tale about heartbreak, not hate! Please be aware of that, while reading.

Someone like you

It's funny how these things always seem to work.

You meet a guy (or a girl if that's your thing) and you have that instant connection. You get to know each other. You fall in love.

And you'd think that's how it'll stay forever because you lay your heart on the line and you give your everything and you don't doubt for a second that it'll last.

You don't understand that just because you invest everything you have – all of you – in this 'thing', doesn't mean that the other person does too.

There's never a guarantee you are as loved as much as you love.

Because how does it make sense to break up? To feel like you're dying slowly on the inside, like there's tiny shards of glass in your bloodstream cutting into the very essence of your being. Into your heart.

You tell yourself you'll move on. That the other person wasn't theone anyways, even though he was your first gay love and you've only ever looked at girls before. How do you move on from the person that has changed your whole life, your whole you? How do you move on from coming out to yourself and the world to only get it thrown back in your face over nothing at all? Is there such a thing as moving on, then?

You'd think there would be. You delete the cell number, you cease all contact… and if you can move away because of different circumstances, you do because distance is good, right?

But you forget that memories are powerful. You forget that a particular scent reminds you of the fluttery feeling in your stomach you experienced when he smiled at you. You forget that a certain shade of curly brown hair makes your heart beat a mile a minute even though it's not rational.

You forget that you dream. And even if you haven't thought about him in weeks (if you're that lucky), one night you will randomly dream about him. And you won't be able to tell whether you just had the best dream ever or the worst possible nightmare. Because in every dream you feel closer to him and when you wake up, you die a little more inside.

And you forget the songs. The songs you shared, the songs that were your songs. And you can't help but flash back to your one love when you hear them because they were such an important part of your life. But you also know that if he were to hear them… he probably won't be thinking of you at all.

Because that's what moving on means.

And he has moved on.

The lovely blond guy hanging off of his arm tells you enough.

It doesn't matter to him anymore that you would have given anything to be with him.

He has settled down. With someone that's not you.

You became a whole different person because of him, because of your love for him and it just doesn't matter to him anymore.

So it really is time to move on. Or to keep trying to at least.

But deep down you just know….

*Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead*

And it'll never completely stop.

The End

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