Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Not beta-ed. All mistakes are mine.
The opposite of loving is not hating.
It's leaving.
You have no clue what I'm talking about, do you?
Right, then. Let's come back to this later.
…
Your mom was all I wanted be when I grew up.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Successful.
She was mesmerizing.
I used to watch all the shows in which she appeared. It somehow made me feel closer to you.
And then there was little Jas. Oh, how I miss him!
It was fascinating how dissimilar you two were, regardless of being brothers.
I wonder what he looks like now.
Does he remember me?
Don't answer that. Of course, he doesn't. He was only a toddler the last time I saw him.
Stupid question. My bad.
How's your family doing? Is your Dad still in Japan?
I have so many questions.
But these are simply my words for myself.
You'll never answer.
…
I didn't know.
It seemed as if everyone knew, except me.
Did it ever occur to you that I might need a warning?
A sign?
Something?
I was totally unprepared.
I was defenseless.
It's not as if you owed me anything.
But the least you could have done is say goodbye.
…
Pens.
One of the many reasons that day still hurts so much.
It was as if dropping pens left and right had become your habit.
And it was as if picking them up had become mine.
No matter how annoyed I looked, I really wasn't all that annoyed.
I was giddy with joy.
The seat plan for that week forced you to seat beside me. But it didn't look forced.
You seemed happy.
You smiled.
You talked.
You talked to me.
"How many times are you going to drop this pen?" I had asked angrily.
"As many times as you are willing to pick it up for me," You had replied smoothly.
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why say words you don't mean?
You are truly heartless, Edward Cullen.
I was there.
I was always there!
Where were you?
…
You remember that journal that Em got you as a going away gift?
The one you didn't want because it had girly shit drawn all over?
The one that you gave to me just because I happened to have standing beside you?
Yeah, that.
I still have that.
It still doesn't contain a word.
How would it be filled? Our story ended before it even began.
Was there even a story to begin with?
There was just me.
And my thoughts.
And my feelings.
None of which you ever wanted.
…
Remember how we started?
The opposite of loving is not hating.
It's leaving.
You left.
So suddenly, so abruptly that I was caught off guard.
I didn't get the time to catch my breath.
You were my first love. To that, I attest.
So, what? People fall out of love all the time. I was determined to move on.
I was determined to let you go.
It was an end. A closure.
Or so I thought.
But then destiny stepped in.
And I've been riding shotgun ever since.
Sorry.