Mark

I woke up and half expected Anne to be curled up beside me, her icy hands twisted up the back of my shirt. But as I woke up and thoughts of the previous night's actions returned to me, it registered that the last place she'd be at the moment was in bed with me. I put my glasses and the world came into focus. I shivered and shuffled into the kitchen, in dire need of a cup of coffee. I glanced over to the couch and was surprised to see it empty, the blankets neatly folded. I sighed and filled a mug before settling on the couch next to the phone.

Her voice mail resonated through the receiver. "Hi, it's Anne. I can't come to the phone right now so leave your name, number, and a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye!"

"It's Mark. I just wanted to talk to you… about last night. I love you. Bye." I sighed and returned the phone to its cradle.

"Lover's quarrel?" Roger asked from his room, where the sound of his guitar tuning, followed by a sharp snap and a loud outcry of "Fuck!"

"Broke another string?" I called in to him.

"More like two. Damn it, I just replaced these a couple weeks ago!" He exclaimed. I heard the snap of his guitar case. "I'm gonna go buy new ones. I'm in the middle of writing a kick ass riff and I don't want to quit because of a broken string. See you in a few." He shrugged his leather jacket on and shut the door hard on his way out.

I flinched and headed out onto the fire escape with my mug and camera. Set on recording the chaos of a morning in the city.

I zoomed in on a homeless man being kicked off his stoop by the police.

"Pan across what has happened to Avenue B. If only Benny was here, the scene would be complete." I narrated, turning my gaze to a corner across the street that The Man is known to frequent. A short blonde with her hair tied back slipped him a few bills and he tucked a small baggie into her pocket. As she turned towards the loft, I caught sight of her face.

No. That can't be.

Anne pulled her scarf tighter around her neck as she hurried across the street, dodging a few cars before she made it to the front of the loft.

I could hear my heart beating in my ears. There was still a sudden, dull ache beginning to form in my chest. I was no stranger to this sensation. Next comes the throbbing behind my eyes, the lump in my throat, and the familiar feeling of bile raising in my esophagus. I turned and stumbled back into the loft, carefully putting my camera on a bookshelf. My legs felt like jell-o, my knees ready to betray me at any moment.

"Oh god." I mumbled, balancing myself against the wall for support. I felt as if I was being tossed around in an ocean, my stomach lurching with nausea. The front door opened and I heard the squeak of wet shoes on hard wood floor.

"Hi, guys." Anne calls softly. She pauses, obviously noticing the unnatural silence. "Is anyone home?" The footsteps get louder as she nears. My door creaks open. "Mark?"

I groaned.

"Are you alright?" She rushes over to me and presses a warm hand to my clammy face. "Your pale and your face is all sweaty."

I grab at her wrist, pushing it away from my forehead.

"Mark? What's wrong?" She asks,

I pushed Anne against the crumbling walls, screaming, begging her to tell me that it's not true. Words are exchanged, tears fall, and next thing I know, Roger's pulling me into the kitchen by the collar of my shirt.

I softly shut the door to the loft and hurried past Roger and Mimi, who were waiting in the kitchen.

"Mark, sweetie?" Mimi calls after me.

I clench my jaw and shake my head as I close my bedroom door.

"Hiding in your room isn't going to change the situation." Roger's voice joined Mimi's. "You need to get everything out."

"I need to be alone. Please." I pleaded, wiping away the hot tears from my already overheated face. "I'm going to be alright. I just need to be alone right now."

I heard Roger sigh. "Whatever you need, Mark. We're here."

Anne

My heart was beating so fast, I could feel the blood pounding in my ears. All I had to do was make it onto that bus and I could start to make sense of my life again. I dug a few quarters out of my purse and inserted them in a payphone, dialing the loft's number. I heard the telltale beep of the answering machine.

At least one thing hadn't changed- they never picked up the phone.

"Stop screening and pick up. It's me." I said quietly. I heard a faint sound as if the phone was being picked up but no words from the other end.

"Hello? Mark?" All I heard was static; perfect timing for the phone's reception to go south. "Is anyone there?"

"Is that you, Anne? Oh my god, I've been waiting for your call all day! Are you running late? Or did you just not get to a phone until now? I tried calling you but I couldn't get through." He was talking a mile a minute, like he always does when he gets excited, questioning everything.

"I… I just couldn't get to a phone in time, I'm sorry." I said, setting my bag down on the damp concrete.

"When are you going to get back? I mean, if you need a ride I can pick you up-"

"It's alright. I have it covered." His eagerness to help both broke my heart and made me smile.

"Well, when can I expect you back at the loft? A time frame would be nice so I can try to pick up some of our shit. You know, without you here to clean up after us it's gotten pretty messy."

I laughed, in spite of myself and the situation. I took a deep breath and forced the tears back for a few more seconds. "Mark, I don't think I can do this."

I heard him take a sharp intake of breath. "What… I don't get it. Before you left, you were going as far to say that you'd die without me and now you want to just end everything?"

I leaned against the cold metal of the pay phone's frame, balancing the phone in between my head and shoulder, rubbing my temples. "It's not like that at all. Please just listen, Mark."

"Would you stop saying my name like that? Jesus, Anne. I may not be the smartest guy on the block, but I'm sure as hell not following what you're saying."

"I don't want to break up with you, not in the least." I began. I knew that my words needed to be chosen carefully. "I'm going away."

He sighed heavily. "For how long?" He was exasperated with me, no doubt about it, but I could hear the desperation in his voice.

"I... I don't know. As long as this takes." I couldn't believe what I was doing. Of all the ways this could have happened, this was not the way I pictured it ending. I was breaking Mark's heart.

"What is this, Anne? I'm floundering here, give me something!"

"I have to find myself, Mark. And I know that sounds cliché and stupid, and I'm sorry. But you have to understand-"

"Understand what? The fact that I've waited three months for you? You don't need a genius to figure this out. I love you, Anne. I wouldn't have gone through this with you if I didn't."

I choked back a sob and cried for a few minutes. I must've been quite the sight, sitting at a New York Transit bus stop surrounded by bags and sobbing.

"I'm so, so sorry, Mark." I sniffed "And I know that's not going to make any difference to ease the pain. I never thought it would end this way."

"Wait, didn't you just say that we weren't over? Not for good, at least." His voice was airy and soft, a little bit higher than usual.

Great job, Anne. You've succeeded in making the poor boy cry.

"We're not. Unless you want that…" I took in one long, shaky breath and continued. "Mark, I can't love you until I know how to love myself. And now that the drugs and garbage are out of my life, I need to learn how to do that on my own. Living the loft with you and Roger and Mimi isn't going to work at the moment. I just need space."

"I can understand that." He replied softly. "But can't you do it here? I would give you all the time you need and only when you're ready…" he trailed off.

"I wish it was that easy, I really do. But it'd be too tempting to just give up and go back to you."

"Come back to me? Thanks, thanks a lot Anne." Mark spat. He stopped for a minute or two, trying to regain his composure. "I didn't mean to get angry but it's the only emotion that's really making itself known right now. I don't know what to expect."

"How can I give all of myself to you when there are pieces of me that I need to fix? Could you try thinking of it that way?" I asked.

Please understand. You got a 1420 on your SAT's, this shouldn't be that hard.

"Where are you going?" He asked after a few minutes of silence.

"I don't know yet. Far enough, but not exactly close either." I responded. For once, it was the truth. I didn't know where I would go after I took this bus. It could be anywhere.

"Are you going to call? Or at least write." I heard him swallow hard.

"Mark, writing means that I'd have to give a return address. And I know that you'd give me my space and respect my privacy, but I don't want either of us to be tempted." I said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Do you promise you'll come back?"

I sighed. "I… yes."

"Please don't say it if you don't mean it." Mark pleaded, his voice cracking.

"I'll come back, I promise." The bus driver opened the door, gesturing for the small group of passengers to start boarding. "I have to go. I love you, Mark."

"I love you too." He whispered.

I wiped tears away as I added my bag to the growing pile by the side of the bus.

"Leaving someone special behind?" The driver asked, giving me a sympathetic smile.

"Very."

"Everything happens for a reason, my dear. Just have a little faith in mankind and the ability for love to prevail, even over distance." He patted my shoulder.

I took a deep breath and stepped onto the bus, readying myself for whatever was to come. I liked the uncertainty of what I was about to do; going to a place where I didn't know anyone and where no one knew about me.

Is this an update? No, it can't be! Ella NEVER updates!

ducks flying objects

Oh to update, the American Dream.

I apologize for taking so long, I really do. This story got shoved to the back burner and I just didn't have time to sit down and really pump out a full chapter. But I'm almost finished with the last one. The finale, if you will. But there's not going to be a seqel or anything- it's still just going to be Emotion Sickness. Only Part II, if you will. Same story, different chapter of their lives. Get it?

I'm seriously contemplating a re-write of this, which I would do and post as I finish the chapters. Although it would get in the way of upcoming ones, there are just some inconsistencies in my own writing that I can't stand and I would like to correct them and make it right. But I'd like to get other people's opinions and input on a possible re-write, so don't be shy about sharing your thoughts.

Harper's Pixie: You know that you're my favorite reviewer... ever, right? Good. And I told myself when I was starting this story that my OC wasn't going to have money problems or just be some silly naive girl who falls in love. She needed baggage, REAL baggage that nobody was going to expect. Hence, the drug use.

eLpHaBaFaBaLaElPhIeFaE: At least I surprised someone. Thanks for reviewing. P.S.- I'm always paranoid of spelling your username wrong, like every time I write it I have to check it at least twice.

Jack Flash: My Mark has trust issues, which I'll develop further in the next few chapters. I know that is hasn't made much sense thusfar and I'm working on. He gives people too much benefit of the doubt and ends up getting hurt. He's completely quixotic and I love him.

DancingStarofOz: I AM SO GLAD SOMEONE FIGURED IT OUT! I was trying to drop subtle hints throughout the chapters and I wanted someone to call me on it, but nobody did. And I meant for Roger to find out first because he would recognize it immediately. And I've always liked the idea that his anger in Goodbye Love is rightous, but nobody has ever seen it.

L.M. Ward: Another one of my favorites. And I'm glad it makes sense. I'm contemplating a re-write after the next chapter- do you think it's worth it? Because I really, really want it.

JacksTortugaLass: Mark's just being a fool. After putting Roger through it the first time, he just doesn't want to deal with it again. And if you go into rehab for a serious problem, it takes a couple months to get you clean (unless you do rapid detox). Can you chalk it up as Mark being stupid?

Thanks to Koishii-Kitsune-Akira, Jacinda, KajiMori, and Silver Anarchist.

It's been a long time coming, but I'm glad to be back!

-Ella