and they called off the circus, burned the disco down / when they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns / i'm still on that tightrope, i'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me / and i'm still a believer but i don't know why / i've never been a natural, all i do is try, try, try / i'm still on that trapeze, i'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me

- mirrorball, taylor swift (folklore)

even without opening my eyes, i already know.

from the way the cold morning breeze greets my bare skin and the colder indent he left on my bed freezes my already broken heart, i already know— he's gone. again, just like he always does. and this time, he's not coming back.

the crushing realization starts and i can already feel the heat burning under my closed lids, threatening to spill out from my eyes. if there is one thing i have managed to live without these past few years aside from sasuke-kun, it must be regret.

i can't afford to feel that. i can't regret the way he held me when he first came back to me nor the way he genuinely smiled when he first won an award. i can't regret the late-night calls nor the shitty webcam dates. i can't regret the warmth of his mouth on mine nor his tears on my cheeks when we tenderly made love for the last time.

the good, the bad; the beautiful, the ugly; the leaving, the waiting— all of it. i can't allow myself to regret all those things because they all gave him to me.

and for a moment, it was enough.

it was fine.

it was good.

it was enough that i have to swallow the pain of seeing him in my newspaper being linked to a shiny new actress. it was fine that i get to hear his voice only when he's bone-tired or half-dead or when he remembers to call. it was good that i get to feel his arms around me, only to be taken away all over again after a week or even a day.

and i did everything i could so he can be here with me— i had to polish myself to be as shiny as his new co-star, i had to be the one with the limitless energy and endless patience when he falls asleep on the phone, i had to learn how to wrap my own arms around myself and soothe the familiar ache he inflicts when he leaves just so i won't feel the emptiness without him.

but was it selfish of me to want that; to keep him all to myself? was it bad to beg for a sliver of time and attention to the point where i almost asked him to give up his current life for me?

and is it wrong for me to stay true to my promise of waiting for him when i've already given up? to believe that he will eventually come back to me and never leave me again when i've already said my last goodbye?

even right now as i finally open my eyes, i still have a tiny hope inside the remains of my heart he left me with. i'm still a believer of love and how it can endure for lifetimes, and i don't know why. i must be a masochist for still thinking that way knowing that i was the one who let him go in the first place.

that little ounce of hope is what makes me get up today. i feel the morning breeze again and goosebumps start to rise on my exposed skin when the blanket falls on my lap. i can still see the faint marks from his lips and feel the ghost of his fingers between my legs.

his lingering touches from last night still burn. his searing kisses still remain. his loving words still echo.

"i miss you right now."

"you know i love you, right?"

"i'm sorry."

and then in this early winter sunrise, i realized something i should've had before.

"you don't have to wait for me anymore."

maybe i don't have to be the one who waits.

maybe he doesn't have to be the one who stays.

all this time, maybe it should've been me who comes back home— because home is wherever sasuke uchiha is.

i get up immediately and move as quick as a woman who wants to get the love of her life back does. i walk across the hall towards my kitchen where i left my phone and computer. with a reviving heart beating out of my chest, i will my computer to turn on faster so i can book the earliest flight back home.

back to sasuke-kun.

and that's when the shrill of my phone starts to reverberate around my empty apartment. i pick it up without looking at the name as i am busy looking for a plane ticket.

"forehead," the voice of my best friend comes.

"hey," i reply, eyes and mind still focused on my computer screen and sasuke that i didn't hear the severe tone of her usually bright voice. "i'm a little busy right now, pig. can you call me b-"

"sakura."

that immediately brought me back to now. she never calls me by my name, unless it's something serious. i can feel my pulse starting to speed up as i press confirm on the flight i found that will leave in two hours.

i carefully answer back, "are you okay, ino? what's wrong?"

she didn't answer right away, but i can hear the wobble in her voice when she responds back. "open your tv…"

my eyes immediately dart to the turned off appliance that ino knows i rarely use unless i watch reruns of my favorite shows. i almost never turn it on because i'm afraid of seeing sasuke on the screen and watch him live his life while i waste away here, longing for him.

not anymore, though.

i'll be home soon, sasuke-kun.

despite that, i can still feel worry creeping at the back of my head. i swallow my nervousness and let out a small chuckle to hide it, "you're freaking me out, pig. what's going on?"

"please, sakura…" my best friend pleads. "i- i can't…"

oh, to hell with it!

i grab the remote and press the button, anxiety and fear running through my veins…

...before dropping it to the floor, along with my heart and hope and soul.

"BREAKING NEWS: SASUKE UCHIHA, DEAD AT 27, AFTER TRAGIC PLANE CRASH"

and to hell i go.

i can hear a faint "i'm sorry" from somewhere. it might be ino from my dropped phone. it might be me being sorry to myself as i stare at his handsome face on my tv.

or it might be him, saying sorry for the biggest prank of my life. it's almost easy to pretend it was him.

i'd rather take his apologies than this.

anything is better than this.

perhaps i can now afford living with regrets.

a/n: a continuation of 'tis the damn season prompt. sorry!