It wasn't like he had a broken heart.
Sheldon had lived like this for years — Alone, distant, and without any need for companionship, and certainly not looking for an outsider to invade his privacy. People in his life had always been temporary. They'd come and gone, leaving behind their memories, the images he spent years to forget. The memory of his father in bed with another woman — moaning and screaming — until their eyes met, was still fresh in his mind. He'd run off to his room, cried, until his mother came back, wondering if kids at the school bullied him. He couldn't speak to her. He couldn't look into her eyes or into his father's. He couldn't unsee things he'd seen. The same night his parents had fought once again and his name was repeatedly spoken in loud and harsh tones. Their words were cruel, each syllable a giant stab in his chest. His parents always fought. He'd remembered their arguments for as long as he could think. Some days, they were quiet, the perfect couple everyone adored.
The lie, however, was always wrapped up in the sweet veil of perfection, jagged sharpness peaking up form within for anyone who would see. Except, no one ever bothered. Whenever his father came home drunk, the fights ensued, while Gorgie slipped out to his friends' houses for the sleepovers, and Missy pretended to be asleep. He couldn't pretend. Years later, he remembered their arguments, loud and clear, a massive hole in the fabric of his otherwise seemingly perfect life that pricked and pierced ruthlessly. There would be nights he would be unable to fall asleep and stayed awake, keeping Leonard up with him all night. Leonard grumbled and cursed him, often empathized with him when he realized Sheldon was too quiet, but never truly grasping the extent of anguish certain memories brought. Sheldon didn't know what moments in the present could trigger the old memories he would rather forget. Whistling and the squeaky sound of the shoes were the most obvious ones — they reminded him too much of the way his father behaved. His heavy feet dragging through the floor as he whistled right before he spotted Mary were the clear reminiscent of the violence that followed.
He couldn't see people arguing. And people argued a lot.
Then there was Tam, his only friend in the childhood, who'd been left behind through the years, when Sheldon moved to Pasadena. He'd made more friends. Leonard, Howard, and Raj. And then Penny had come along. Years later, he met Bernadette and Amy.
He'd been alright, not exactly in the need of the friends. He told himself repeatedly that he was used to these people. There was no love, only a habit that would die down the moment he walked out of their lives.
Sheldon believed the same way about Amy. That he was simply used to her. The boring date nights, her wanting to take him to the tedious parties of her relatives, all the foolish social conventions he would rather not follow.
Then, it became clear to him he'd fallen in love with Amy a long time ago. He'd been in love with Amy without realizing it. The minor disruption in their relationship due to their conflict regarding their academic fields hadn't gone down well with him. He'd felt an unsaid emptiness within after not being able to communicate with her. And in response, he'd brought home cats. Thank goodness Leonard had enough sense in him who brought Amy back.
Talking to Amy was his most favorite time of the day, even though he never admitted this to her, or to anybody. Their relationship was purely intellectual, yet he felt a pull towards her, an ease in her presence that he didn't remember feeling except for his family. His life had changed tremendously over the years, a part of him softened. Even though he prioritized his work, barely taking time for other things, he'd agreed to Amy's idea of the date night every week, however tedious it initially sounded.
It all worked well, until their fifth anniversary. He'd been waiting to ask Amy if he should watch new Flash series. But the moment he did, Amy stood up with her yelly face, rolled her eyes, and instead of answering him properly, walked out of the room. Leonard and Penny maintained he was the wrong one, but how could he be wrong? Didn't he want Amy to decide something so important for him? He'd wanted her opinion because it mattered. And because her opinion mattered, too. He'd never understand women, and Amy was the perfect example why.
It had been hours and Amy hadn't contacted him again. Sheldon remembered the very moment. Leonard and Penny were out somewhere, and he'd called Amy, only for her to say she needed a break from him. He'd been delightful.. how could Amy not see that?
"Being your girlfriend is so challenging, emotionally, physically… This isn't easy to say because I love you, but I need some time to take a step back and reevaluate our situation. I hope you understand."
He'd been torn between questioning his reality and accepting it all at once. That couldn't be true. He'd tried his best to make Amy feel comfortable. He'd done things he'd never imagined he could do. How could Amy say she needed to be patient with him?
"Good bye, Sheldon."
At this point, his heart was hammering so loud it hurt physically. Amy wasn't laughing. There was no tangible amusement on her face that gave away the idea that it was an unnecessarily cruel prank. It surely didn't mean what he'd been thinking? Fear grasped him, its sharp talons digging holes in his guts.
And just like that, the screen before him turned black. Something snapped within Sheldon, a part of him still in denial about what had happened. He looked around, the room suddenly colder than its usual temperature, but he knew it wasn't because of the drop in heat. The four walls of the room were either too suffocating or they didn't exist at all. The walls caved in, crumbed, each pebble degenerating into nothingness right before his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to capture them within his grasp it all fell apart, deep sharp gashes, splinters shoved into his skin.
It must have been a joke. Slowly, he looked at the Gollum figurine on the table, unable to pretend the ache in his chest wasn't real this time.
"Gollum, you're an expert on rings." Sheldon pulled an engagement ring out of the drawer, looked at it carefully, and said, "What do I do with this one?"
The figurine sat silently, mocking him for wanting to express his feelings. It wasn't a good idea after all.
As Sheldon sat in his room, years later, the image clear in his mind, he tried not to think about that particular day, but every word, every moment, every incident that followed was seared into his memory with a painstaking clarity. His eidetic memory was a curse. He'd known it for a long, long time, but, in certain instances, it was worse.
He remembered meeting Amy several times afterwards, each meeting making it harder for him to pretend he was alright. Sheldon knew one more word, and he would lose himself completely. It was hard for him to understand if people laughed at him or with him; or if they were in a bad mood or upset because he'd done something wrong. At that time, even though he denied he'd been lamenting, he didn't want anyone to know the haunting silences and words that struck him like forks of lightening were hurtful. Everyone assumed he was confident, but deep down, he'd always been afraid. Today, he was more terrified of people. He was afraid of Amy, too. He couldn't tell why, but talking to her, looking at her face, filled him with shame and guilt. So, whenever Amy came in front him, he preferred to stay quiet, afraid that people might laugh at him. For this, he couldn't even afford to trust either Leonard and Penny. Who knew — they might laugh at him, too.
Then, Thanksgiving came. There was a dinner at Howard's house. Since his mother had passed away a few months ago, their friends had planned to spend the time with him. But, Sheldon hadn't been invited. He'd protested against this unfairness until he learned Amy was joining them, too, and their friends didn't want things to get awkward again. He'd caused enough inconvenience for Amy and others, so it would be better if he weren't around. Amy met him that morning while she accompanied him to the aquarium, and agreed to step back even though he hadn't asked her to do it.
"They're your friends. I have no right to take them away from you," she said.
"No, no. It's alright. I have some work to do. I'll be at the University, anyway, the whole time. Even if I'd been invited I wouldn't have been able to make it." He'd lied so easily, and for the first time, he hadn't bothered with an alibi in case he needed one to prove he indeed was going to be at the University on the Holiday.
"You sure?"
"I am."
At home, Leonard and Penny sat lazily, watching a show he hadn't seen before. He suspected it must be one of Penny's favorites since Leonard waved his hand with a disinterested look on his face, and then turned his head to his phone. When Penny looked at Leonard, he was watching the TV again. Leonard did that when he wasn't interested in his wife's favorite shows, which Sheldon agreed, were atrocious.
Somewhere around late afternoon, he received a call from Amy. She said she was ready to be his girlfriend again, a tinge of sadness obvious in her tone. He looked in the distance, swallowing hard, and told her he'd rather be her friend — a state of their relationship they'd come in terms with this morning. Amy had said they could function as friends to avoid the awkwardness between them. They could take baby steps to build their friendship. He'd welcomed the idea, but knew it would be hard. He wasn't ready to go through the pain all over again, should things go bad. For a moment, he wondered if he heard Amy cry. Why would she cry? In the back of his head, he wanted to say yes, but fear kept him from uttering anything that would put him in the same position as he was now.
As evening drew nearer, Sheldon found Leonard was no longer seated there. Penny remained curled up in a blanket, still watching TV.
"I thought you'd be getting ready to go to Wolowitz's," he said, keeping the vulnerable edge out of his tone. He didn't want Penny to find out he was still hurt at being left out. And that Amy was going to be there right after he'd rejected her proposal to be back with her, although Sheldon didn't know where they were supposed to go from here on.
"We aren't going." She half-smiled at him. "We thought the three of us could have fun here."
"You guys planned the whole thing. Remember?"
"Yeah.. But we didn't want to leave you out." Penny stood up and came to stand next to Sheldon. "That really wasn't our plan." He couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or genuine, but he chose not to question her.
"I do believe you," he said a few moments later, even though he wasn't certain if he did. At this point, he wanted to be left alone.
"Sheldon—" There must have been a visible change on his face because Penny immediately looked worried. She always spoke quickly whenever she was alarmed.
"Oh, no, no. It's alright. You both can go." Sheldon walked away from her, scratching his jaw, putting more life in his words so that they sounded convincing.
"Not without you, Sheldon."
"I'm alright." He stressed at the last word, slightly irritated. He did want to stay alone. Penny wasn't doing him any favor. He didn't want it.
"No."
"You don't have to worry about me." There was the hint of annoyance in his voice. Why did no one believe in what he said or felt unless it was physics?
"No, it's just—" Penny began but was cut short immediately.
"I said I'm fine!" His words came out louder and harsher than he'd intended, but they had the desired effect. Penny hushed right away, and slowly retreated into her own apartment without making any noise. Sheldon stood silently, struggling for air, his knees buckling on their own volition, and his feet hit the floor. He wasn't weak! After a few moments — or had several hours passed? — Sheldon composed himself, pulling himself up, and limped back into his room. He locked the door and without any effort collapsed on the bed. Something watery stung his eyes, and behind his closed eyelids liquid images flooded back in his head. He missed his father and his mother. All the old times he'd been protected from the pains and heartbreaks. Did his mother know he'd have to go through this someday?
She'd been worried about him and he had put a brave façade, something that was half-truth and half-lie. He'd wanted to send back the ring to her, now that he didn't need it.
"Are you sure it's over for good?" his mother said.
"It's over for me. I'm done with women."
His mother didn't argue with him, didn't say anything he didn't want to hear.
Sometime later, he heard muffled noises in the hall, worried whispers floating in the air.
"Sheldon, open the door, please?" It was Leonard. Sheldon kept quiet. "Wolowitz called me. He said you can come."
"I'm not going," Sheldon replied. "Tell him I'm busy. Working on something important."
"Sweetie, you don't have to do this," Penny spoke from the other side of the door. "Please come on."
"I'm not going."
"Sheldon," Penny said again, "You know we don't want to leave you alone?"
Slowly, he stood up and opened the door. "Thank you for your concern but I'm perfectly alright. Just for your information, I was invited by my very good friend Will Wheaton."
"He called you?" Leonard asked.
"He did. And he's hosting a dinner. We're going to play Dungeons and Dragons with some special guests." Sheldon gave a wide smile.
"Are you sure?" Leonard said. To Sheldon, he looked confused.
"There's no convincing you, is there, Leonard?" Sheldon said, drawing a dramatic a sigh.
"I'm sorry I asked. Do you want me to drop you at Will Wheaton's?"
"I'll take the bus."
Leonard stared at him again. "Are you sure?"
Sheldon smiled.
"Alright. We're leaving, okay? If you need anything, call us immediately. We'll be back." He patted Sheldon's shoulder and walked away, Penny beside him.
The empty apartment resembled a dilapidated citadel, straight out of Lord of the Rings. Instead of the smoke rising from the Mount Doom and despair filling the fabric of the world, it was an unspeakable sadness that seeped into his pores, making his body ache all over. He hadn't been invited to go anywhere. Sheldon marveled at his own ability to be able to lie convincingly. He'd been lying a lot lately.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm okay."
Every time he lied to Penny or Leonard, he felt their gazes linger at him for an extra moment, their eyes narrowed down, pointed look on their faces. Much to Sheldon's relief, neither of them said anything to him. They didn't ask him anything. Once thanksgiving was over, he received his mother's call again, and knew it was Penny's doing.
"Leonard asked me to talk to you," she said. "Your friends are worried about you, Shelly."
"Oh, I need some break, mother, and I'll be back on the track soon." He'd meant it. "These distractions can't keep me from doing what I'm good at doing." Sheldon hoped he could pull it off. It had been weeks. He once again looked at Amy's photo on his laptop's screen saver and his stomach turned violently. A lump rose in his throat and he stared down at his hands, shutting his eyes. He brought his palm to his chest, pressing it slowly in hope to ease the pain that suddenly erupted within him. He promptly switched off his laptop, making sure next time he'd remove Amy's photo from his screen saver to avoid any emotional situation of this kind; a day that never came. He still had Amy's photo as his screensaver on his new laptop that he'd bought after the old one stopped working.
It was one of those days when Christmas spirit was high, even though there were several weeks before the festival. He didn't see much of Amy.
She'd stopped hanging out with Penny in her apartment. They often went to Amy's apartment or some place else. But they never came where Penny lived. All of his efforts to get over Amy had been futile so far. Sheldon knew what was it he needed to do. He'd go back to her, propose her for the marriage, and they could resume their relationship. He hadn't considered the possibility of anything else other than the success of his proposal. Amy loved him. She'd say yes. He heard noises in the lobby, and knew the entire gang was here. They'd been watching TV and playing video games. Howard and Raj had been around for hours until Leonard, Bernadette, and Penny came back too. Through the unintelligible noise, he caught names of 'Dave and Amy' spoken together. Bernadette whispered something to the others, and the others laughed. The ring he kept in his pocket suddenly felt too heavy to carry. Instinctively, he turned back, dropping the idea of leaving his room. He'd found it hard to talk to the people at work. He avoided Amy at all costs. Today, seeing his friends all at once seemed like a herculean task. He couldn't do it.
The laughter in the hall died down as he opened the door and stepped out, his eyes glazed over every face, the people he couldn't recognize at the moment.
"I didn't think you were home, Sheldon," Leonard said.
Sheldon blinked, as though he'd been lost. "I was."
He wrapped his jacket around him and picked the key, not looking at any of them. He could feel their eyes on him. No one knew he had a ring to give Amy, that he was going to propose her for the marriage. If they hadn't broken up, they'd probably be preparing for the marriage.
"Where are you going?" Raj asked.
"I'll be back soon," Sheldon answered.
"It's almost dinner time. We got your favorite —"
"Leonard —" Sheldon lifted his hand to hush his best friend. "I said I'll be back. If not, you don't have to wait for me."
He was thankful no one questioned him any further, no more enquiries regarding his destination.
The earth was cool after the rain. Chilly wind pricked like sharp needles. Sheldon made his way towards Amy's apartment, only to halt in his tracks suddenly. He stood stunned for a moments, wishing he was anywhere but here. Amy was talking to a man at the gate of her apartment building. She smiled at the man who leaned down to kiss her. Sheldon shut his eyes and turned away. He waited for a moment, pondering over the feelings lost in the buzz of the rapidly whirling emotions, uncertainty flooding within him like poison in blood. He swallowed thickly and walked back to the road, waiting for the bus. But going back home in the presence of everyone.. no, he didn't want to be interrogated for why he'd been out for so long. Lying drained him. He couldn't do it anymore. He went to Stuart's comic book store only to find it was the closing time.
"I'm sorry, Sheldon. I'm heading home," Stuart said. Sheldon nodded in the dark, the bleak glow of the street lights feebly illuminating his features.
He stood there in the cold night, fidgeting the wooden ring box in his pocket. He hadn't realized, but the weight of the object was suddenly heavier than it had ever been. It took him a moment to realize it wasn't the ring box that became heavy; instead, he felt weak, wanting to throw up. It only happened when he was sick. Right now, he wasn't sick. He walked here and there in the dark and empty street, still not over from the shock of what he'd witnessed a while ago, a feeling that tore him without his consent.
Weeks passed. He still avoided Amy. And then, Christmas happened. He'd never liked the festival, but Leonard and Penny insisted he celebrated. Exchange of the gifts and dinners were nothing but foolish acts that the masses had indulged in since forever. How could humanity be getting better and more intellectual than it had been in centuries while still continuing with the medieval practices like these? He was certain he wouldn't be invited at the dinner whoever hosted it this year, if there was going to be a dinner party.
Much to his surprise, Howard and Bernadette threw a dinner party for Christmas, stating it had been a hard year for all of them, an experience that could only be alleviated by the close friends and family members. Sheldon hadn't heard from Amy anything afterwards, and he knew he needed time to come in terms with everything that was going on. He refused to go to the party, but neither Leonard nor Penny gave in.
Sheldon remembered the previous year, the day he'd tried to ruin Amy's Christmas, but had ended up falling in love with her harder than ever. He remembered the warmth that flooded in his chest when she looked at him, told him she'd made his favorite cookies, one that his Meemaw used to make for him when he was little. She'd changed the meaning of Christmas for him, in a way. And he'd been looking forward to this Christmas to do something for her.
Fresh spasm of pain shook his body. He hadn't seen Amy in weeks, but there was an emptiness he felt that he could not deny. He'd dreamt of his future, even in the parallel universes, and had included Amy in all of them. He'd never thought there would be a day he would have to live without her.
He spent most of his free time in the comic book store, completely abandoning his rigid schedule only so he could get away from the whirlwind of the emotions causing their ruthless assault. He forgot to separate his loneliness with the emptiness Amy's absence brought. The comic book store, even though she hadn't been here too much, seemed to be basking in her spirit, the trace of a pleasant memory lingering in the air.
When Christmas Eve came, he accompanied Penny and Leonard to Howard's. The festive spirit was hard to suppress when everyone around him shared all the good things that happened to them. Howard apologized for leaving him out previously. Sheldon said he didn't mind, but in truth, a part of him had been quashed at being left out again.
Once dinner ended, Sheldon made sure to go to Amy's and wish her Christmas. He told himself he didn't like Christmas, but he needed to go and talk to Amy. Along with him, he brought a signed drawing of a brain cell made by Santiago Ramón y Cajal. It would mean so much to Amy. When Sheldon had received it first as one of the gift-options for Amy, he'd kept that to himself. Now that he felt too indebted to Amy for going to great lengths last year, he wanted to return the favor.
He reached her apartment's doorstep, and instead of following the three times knocking ritual, he knocked only once, immediately regretting not finishing what he'd started. Much to his dismayed astonishment , the door did not open. Could she be out on a date? How could he be so foolish? Maybe she would be back a few hours later.
"You okay, son?" an old woman emerged from the other room, her stick dragging as she walked. "You looking for someone?" Sheldon recognize her as being Amy's favorite neighbor.
"No, nothing important.." he said, and added as an afterthought, "I came to see Amy. But looks like she's gone with her friends."
"Oh, no," the woman said, shaking her head that was followed by a fit of cough. When she calmed down, Sheldon asked her again. "She moved out of the apartment the last week. She's not coming back."
Author's Note: There's still more to the back story. This chapter became too long, so I had to split it into two. Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading and commenting. It's really, really very encouraging.
