She'd heard through the grapevine that Ashley was going on tour with Craig in Europe. Well, that was fine. Just fine. It didn't effect her. Not at all.

Maybe she hadn't been able to eat as well since she'd heard that, maybe she had no appetite. Maybe she was drinking more wine after dinner, and before. Maybe nothing was dulling the pain.

Marco understood. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he'd rest his hand on her shoulder. She'd lean her head on his hand, choke the tears back.

She didn't want it to be Ashley who was going she wanted it to be her. She still loved him. Impatiently she wiped the tears away. She couldn't follow him, she knew that. Just like she couldn't follow him when he first left for Vancouver. It wasn't where she should be. She should be in college and writing and that was what she was doing so why did it hurt so goddamn much?

It was unrequited love. That is exactly what it was and what hurts worse than that? She had loved him, felt the electricity when he was near, had memorized the shade of his eyes and the texture of his voice and he thought she was a pretty good friend.

The cocaine didn't really matter. It hadn't really changed the fact that he didn't think of her like that. He'd only recognized that she did and used it to his advantage. But that kiss, how she had believed him when he said he loved her, how she had lived in the moment of that kiss for eternity. But it was just lies to him.

So it had been Ashley all along. He loved her. That was something she was going to have to accept. But accepting and dealing with things and moving on had never been her strong suit. That had never been her strength. Holding on. Holding grudges. Cataloguing the hurts, each exquisite source of pain, that was more her speed.

Why did she think of him so much? It was stupid but she couldn't stop. She felt sick with it. She wanted to slash the razor lines into her arms again, just to feel a different pain for once.

"El? Ashley's here," Marco called to her one night, while she was knocking back her second or third glass of wine and looking at the sky. Ashley. Ashley didn't know about her feelings toward Craig, didn't know about what a fool she made of herself when he had been here last. She narrowed her eyes. In a way it was Ashley's fault. Grade 11, crying on her shoulder, saying she didn't know what to do about Craig, his moods and medications and watching, always watching. Ashley was the one who wanted him to go to her group. Ashley was the one who dumped him and left the pieces in her lap.

"Hi," Ellie said, finishing her wine, feeling slightly detached.

Ashley started talking about talking to Craig, going to Europe, their music. How they were connecting but on a different level, how she'd finally let the bi-polar thing go. Ellie nodded, pressed her lips together.

"That's great," she said, and saw the brightness of Ashley's eyes.

"Isn't it? I mean, it just wasn't right with Jimmy," she said, and Ellie looked down, thought about how everything always worked for Ashley. For some people things just worked out.

Marco was inside giving her that 'hang in there' look and she smiled at him.

"Want some wine?" she said, and Ashley nodded. Ellie poured them both a fresh glass. Thought of her going to Europe with Craig, across that ocean, beyond the horizon. Then they'd be gone, but they already were.

Beyond the horizon, into the void. Nothing she could do. Marco came out onto the porch and turned the conversation to other topics, so she wouldn't have to listen to Ashley talk about Craig anymore.