I guess there's no way to make love not break out hearts.
.
.
Carly.
Sam casts her eyes down to the snow-covered sidewalk and shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets. Her soft pink lips contrast immensely with her pale skin, but in a way they fit her portrait perfectly. She had stopped bothering to shake off the stray snowflakes that gathered on the crown and around the folded edges of her beanie. Her long, golden tresses spill out elegantly from the cap, rolling over her shoulders and curling in thick ringlets at the bottom.
On this cold Seattle day, she looks like an angel.
"This is so… sudden," is all she says. I had actually expected her to become enraged at my announcement, or to be frustrated that I don't see things her way, or feel how she does - at least, not anymore. "I suppose you've been thinking about this for a while," she comments with a small sad smile resting on her lips, and I feel my heart breaking for her, but not in the way that it used to.
"Yes, compulsively," I reply in my awkward way, not really sure of any way I could say things that would make this less painful for her, and in turn less painful for me. I fidget with the gloves on my hands. They belong to Sam, both the gloves and my hands, but I guess I'll return the gloves through the mail in a few months, because it's still chilly out and Sam doesn't wear gloves often anyhow.
"I see," she chokes out, and I can just feel the lump that must be in her throat as she holds back the tears and the overwhelming urge not to buckle at the knees. I'm only guessing, because that's how I feel now. "Okay then," she mumbles out. She appears not to know what to do or say for a moment, and a stray tear escapes from the very corner of her left eye, streaking down her soft cheeks and falling into the white abyss of the snow.
"Sam," her name escapes my lips, and this is hurting more than I thought it would to see her standing here outside of our building with her heart on her sleeve, bleeding out from a university-shaped puncture wound.
"Save it," her voice, although gentle, finds a way to cut through me. Her right hand is placed over her heart, and she's looking at me with the loving eyes that I see in the mornings when I wake up next to her and she's watching me as I sleep peacefully. My heart races, but it's already too late. "There are some times in life when you have to follow your heart."
.
.
Sam.
"Actually, I've decided that I want to go to California after all," Carly blurts out, and I stop in my tracks a few feet away from the lobby door of our building, turning around to face her. I tilt my head to the side slightly in confusion, eying her warily, because honestly, she's not making much sense.
"But, babe, we just signed a six month lease a few weeks ago, don't you remember?" I question, taking a slow step closer to her and taking her gloved hands into my cold bare ones. She recoiled slightly at my touch, and for some reason I feel like it wasn't because of my cold hands at all.
"Sam, I – well, I've also decided that maybe it's best that you don't come with me," she says. Her eyes pierce mine, and I can't even believe what I'm hearing. "I just think that it's for… the best, for both of us."
My head is buzzing and I take a careful step backwards, putting my hands in my coat pockets to stave off the sudden unbearable chills coursing through my entire system. She's still looking at me, expectantly. Trying to gage my reaction, I'm sure; trying to analyze me. I can't even look at her anymore. I toss my gaze to the sidewalk and shrink into myself, trying to find the will to do something.
"This is so… sudden," is all that I find myself uttering as my head spins like a top. Is this even real? I can't seem to comprehend why this is happening, but it is and that's all that really matters. "I suppose you've been thinking about this for a while," I note, knowing how Carly can relentlessly obsess over decisions and changes. I force myself to smile.
"Yes, compulsively," she says, and she's fidgeting with the gloves that she borrowed from me a little over two years ago, that I now consider to be hers. I feel a slight pain run through my chest and I want to collapse.
"I see," I cough out, pushing myself to the limit in my attempt at spilling no tears, at least not in front of her or out in public. "Okay then," I mutter as I fail terribly and a single tear escapes, shattering my façade, or what was left of it anyhow.
"Sam," she whispers, and I don't want pity. I don't know what I want at the moment, but I know that I don't want that. I remove my hands from my jacket pocket and briefly ball them into tight fists until my palms are on fire. I can't get mad at her, I know that I can't. Feeling legitimate anger towards her is and was always impossible. The only thing that I can really do is resolve to feel nothing.
"Save it," I say with a soft sigh, placing my right hand over my heart. I can feel my chest vibrating from each persistent beat and it calms me. I settle my tired gaze on her, for the first time in what feels like an eternity; it was probably less than four minutes. "There are some times in life when you have to follow your heart," and those are the exact words I said to her seconds before our first kiss on the roof of her building three years ago on this very day.
Hey everyone! What do you guys think? Too sad, or what? I actually like this piece a lot, I intended for it to be a trilogy, but I might just decide to be lazy and leave it as a one-shot. If people want me to continue, just let me know. I'll be updating my other stories soon, too, so rest assured that I haven't given up (:
Reviews are welcomed, as is criticism of all kinds (I'm an adult, I can handle the heat ;) haha). So, you know what to do, show me some love!
Also, the song that this is based on is 'Why We Cry At Movies' by As Tall As Lions, they are a fantastic band and there is no copyright intended on my behalf.