I wish I could Bubble Wrap my heart,
In case I fall and break apart,
I'm not God I can't change the stars,
And I don't know if there's life on Mars,

Harry fumbled feebly with his keys, blindly jabbing metal with metal until he found a match. Stumbling past the foyer and through the kitchen, he escaped to their bedroom and quickly slammed the door, with a click of the lock.

Upon reaching this safe haven, Harry let his muscles go numb, feeling his body go limp as he crumbled down to the floor. The ache in his heart, his mind, his soul, his entire body only multiplied as soon as he felt himself settle into a pool of emotions on the soft carpet.

He hated this feeling of weakness, always believing before that he would be forever strong. It was something completely foreign to him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth like the old coffee she had carelessly left in the coffee maker from the day before.

Furiously wiping his eyes, the man lifted his head and looked around the room, full of boxes and bubble wrap, yet to be unpacked from the move two weeks prior.

Harry wondered how he could have been so foolish as to put himself in such a vulnerable situation, an act of love that he had never shown to another person.

But I know you hurt
The people that you love and those who care for you,
I want nothing to do with the things you're going through.

Beside the lush comforter-clad bed sat the first piece of furniture they had chosen together ten days ago. He remembered the day down to the threads of the scarf she had worn, remembering their soft, woven feel between his callused fingers as they huddled together in the winter weather, running towards the furniture store.

As soon as they had walked through the doors, Harry saw her face light up with excitement, pointing to the nightstand. He could only smile and nod, willing to do anything to bring that expression upon her face.

On the nightstand now stood a clock, filling the room with an inescapable ticking, and a picture frame. His blurred vision cleared as tears escaped from his eyes, cascading down his prominent cheekbones, and he was able to see the ecstatic smiles on their faces that had been captured in the photograph upon completing the move into the home they now shared.

He flipped the frame down harshly, unable to bear the increased pain it brought in his heart. And yet, he still loved her.

He had no idea how he still managed to, or why. Harry had plenty of warnings when he met her, seeing how she carelessly forgot about family get-togethers and brushed off plans with friends. He knew her well enough, of course, to realize that she was a bit irresponsible.

But he was unable to grasp in his mind how she managed to have the heart, or lack thereof, to do this to him when he had given her everything.

This is the last time
I give up this heart of mine

Finally, he heard the sounds of her entering the flat, desperately searching for yet another person she had hurt. In his rampage earlier, he had silently vowed to end it immediately, as it should have happened so long ago. But as she half-heartedly called his name, Harry felt his heart melt at the sound of her voice, weakened by his unrequited adoration of her.

He forcefully squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear the pain engulfing his body, and violent banged his fist onto the ground, silencing her cries.

"H-harry? Haz, babe, are you in there?" he shook at the sound of her voice getting louder, feeling her footsteps near the door. And now only a tall, framed board of wood separated them. "Harry, I'm so sorry. I mean, you found Michael and I in the wrong place at the wrong time, i-it really can be explained so easily if we can talk. I love you, baby, please unlock the door." Her soothing voice cooed at him through the barrier, knowing she would be able reel him back in as she always could.

I'm telling you that I'm
A broken man who's finally realised.

"Liar," Harry spat out through his teeth. She didn't love him, she loved the idea of being so cared for and caressed by him. He knew this, and yet the minute he let the scathing words slip from his tongue, his heartache seeped deeper. The sound of her voice uttering the three words he lived for would always make him succumb to her efforts, despite being blatant lies.

He had already given up most of the willpower he had left to fight; it would be so easy to believe her, embrace her, make love to her, and start the lie all over again.

But then again, Harry thought, it might be different this time.

He knew her silence from the other side of the door was from her surprise as his response to her pleading, used to seeing him open the door, teary-eyed and arms open.

You're standing in moonlight,
But you're black on the inside

"H-haz...please," her voice softly urged, weakening his heart, "Please, babe, open the door."

The young man couldn't take the feigned hurt in her voice anymore. His strength had completely dissipated, and he found himself stand up and turning the knob of the door that separated them.

He melted into a puddle of pool as he brought his eyes up to look at her, her beautiful brown hair matted down against her milky skin, tears running down her face and body limp from shame.

He wasn't strong enough to do this and he knew it. Yet he kept his eyes on her, slowly tearing away any memory of what he had planned to do—how he had planned to free himself.

Harry rubbed his forehead in agony, watching the glow of her skin in the moonlight. Even in this state—makeup ruined, hair stringy, clothes wrinkled and carelessly thrown back on—she looked absolutely amazing to him.

She cautiously brought her cerulean orbs up to meet his, filled to the brim with crystal tears. Harry stared deeply into her eyes, searching for a sign of sorrow, a sign of regret, a sign of love.

He tore his eyes away and focused on the moon through the window behind her. Refreshed tears trickled down to his throat, and suddenly the strength that had left him was revived.

The colour in her eyes was so true and clear, and yet he could see the black of her soul seeping out of them.

He finally realized who she was.

Who do you think you are to cry?
"How could you?" Harry's voice shook, surprised he was able to speak, even though he knew the real question should have been, What was stopping you all this time?

"I-I...Harry. I love you," she pathetically choked out, unable to voice anything that would bring him back to her. For the first time, she understood. He was too far gone.

More tears shone in her eyes, fueling Harry's sudden anger, "What right do you have to cry? Do you realize what you've done?" She gasped at the harsh tone she had never heard from him before.

"This has to end. I'm not going to let you hurt me anymore," he ran his hands through his hair, body shaking as the words he had spoken slowly sank in.

"No—no, Harry, please. You know I love you, I do! I'll change, I'll do anything for you," she begged, feeling the security of having him slip away from her. In an act of despair, she clamped a hand on his arm, trying to make him stay.

Harry laughed bitterly, closing his eyes at the soft touch of her hand. "That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. I would do anything for you. You would rather go out and do anything you please," the words left his mouth with venom as he snatched his arm away from her warm grasp.

He returned to their bedroom at that moment, and she smiled secretly. Of course, she thought, He just needed to vent, he was staying.

Surprising her, he returned, now clad with a scarf and coat. Her eyes grew huge as she realized she was losing him.

"Plea-" she begged, one more time, but was cut off by his lips meeting hers softly.

"I love you," he whispered against her mouth, his own tears hitting her cheek. Forcefully, he added, "But you don't give a shit about me."

Looking into her empty eyes for the last time, he quickly opened their front door and left, shutting it harshly behind him. She wasn't going to follow him, he knew. She didn't care enough.

Bringing his fingers to his lips, he relished the last kiss he had with her, longing for her touch again.

The moment he had closed that door, he had left his heart behind with her. A new, agonizing emptiness was found in him, but he slowly felt his feet moving out of the building.

This is goodbye.