21 Jump Street (Tom Hanson)

Goodbye, Tom

Mickey's POV

"There, last box," I stated as I taped up the last box of Tom's. Our apartment looked so bare without his stuff, but he was leaving me quite a number of his things. I'd be taking over the lease, so it would be completely my apartment. We already had a bunch of boxes in a moving truck that were already on their way to Tom's new apartment in Virginia.

Tom was moving to Virginia to work for the DEA. That's across the country. He had his one-way ticket, and he was all set to go. There have been many lulls in our final moments together because we don't want to break up, but ultimately we know that we have to. It would be impossible to stay together and only see each other once every ten years.

If Tom loved me, why would he leave me?

I scanned the walls to see if there were any pictures in frames that Tom forgot. My eyes stopped on an old gold frame, and my heart broke a little when I pictured the beautiful memory inside. I didn't want him to go, I wasn't ready to move on. Even though it is not easy, I know that right now the best way to show him how much I love him is to let him go.

I thought about all those nights together, where we talked about the future. It would make me so excited, because I wanted to spend my life with him. He's my best friend. Just us against the world. I never knew that one day I would be losing him.

I noticed the painting of us that a stranger made at a diner in Greenville that we framed. I was feeling like the color blue, but I smiled at the memory as I took it down and walked up to Tom and said, "you should have this."

He took it from my hands and I saw his eyes dart around the painting and a smile perked his lips. But, he handed it back to me and said, "keep it. We can trade it in ten years, we will meet at our diner."

"I'll be there," I chuckled softly. I put it back on the wall where it belongs. I grabbed the front of my crewneck sweatshirt and pulled it away from my chest over and over to create a bit of wind to help cool me down.

Tom sighed, looking around at all the boxes we packed in a matter of a few days. He puckered his lips while he was in thought, and I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso and rested my head against his back. His hands rested on my wrists and he rubbed his thumb against my skin gently.

"I'm sorry," I sniffed with an awkward laugh. My lips quivered subtly. "I just can't believe you're leaving."

"Me neither."

"We still have..." I checked my watch, "twelve more hours before your flight."

Tom stepped out of my grasp and turned to face me. He grabbed my hands in his and said, "I don't want just twelve more hours with you. I want to marry you. I want to have kids with you. I want to build us a house. I want to settle down and grow old with you. I want to die when I'm 110 years old, in your arms. I don't want twelve hours, I want a lifetime with you, Michelle."

I chuckled to keep myself from crying. It took all the power in me to tell him that he didn't have to go work for the DEA if he knew the consequences to it. If I'm being honest, I was mad. He could have said no, and he could have stayed here with me. We could have all those things, but now we never will.

I responded with, "we only have one more day together... so love me like there's no tomorrow."

Tom stepped up to me and kissed my forehead before wrapping his arms around me, squishing me to his chest. We shuffled to the light switch and turned it off, and he sweeped me off my feet and walked us to our bedroom for the last time. He tossed me on the bed, and closed the door and turned the light off. He crawled up next to me and all I wanted was to be with him. I wanted to feel his love and lay beside him, and stay in this moment for the rest of time. He held me in his arms, telling me how much I meant to him. Even though I tried, I could not hide the pain of him moving. He has his life, and I have mine, but he was all I cared about.