mayfly. oneshots

⁴ | the unmendable

genre: ANGST
ship: you & them
　

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"You are not saying anything, are you not going to regret this?" They asked with their fist fraught with disappointment after another uncivil and extensive argument with their supposed lover. 

You held your thumb on your temples, desperately trying to calm the pit of anger you are in. The other body taking space in the room kept quiet as their question was left unanswered and a sigh escaped their lips. You both were tired. Exhausted, even. Their throat dry from shouting amidst the moment and yours dry, too, for not saying anything.

They fell on the couch, their legs must have collapsed from the excessive shaking brought about by unwanted adrenaline from the argument. You were left in a daze, mind going in circles and not one comprehensive thought appeared from any of the thinking you were doing. You let out a sigh as well. The action sparked another tension in the room. 

They asked another question. After the many questions raised to you, you have lost track of how many they are and gave up trying to think of an answer to any of them. Continuing on, they spoke in a shouty tone, "Are you not interested in me anymore? Am I just a friend? Or what?" 

Here you are again, doing what you do best: keeping quiet and never trying to add what you are thinking of to the conversation. This was the trait that they hated about you the most. Instead of answering, you lowered your head. This "not answering back" personality of yours stemmed from your childhood. You were well-known for being an obedient child by the other parents. When they saw you getting nagged at by your mother in public, you had your head lowered and your mouth shut. You were scared. Terrified, really. You hated conflict and you hated confrontations because of those fearful times. You never know how to handle it. 

You had a lot to say, then again, you are a writer. Your mind always had a thought at every second, it may not be coherent and understandable, but words never escaped your mind. Literally, how could it? You had your mouth sealed. The moment you finally opened your mouth, words did not even come out, but a chuckle because this scene reminded you exactly of your childhood.

They were taken aback by your weird gesture. They somehow felt insulted. You heard their footsteps as they became faint. The sound stopped at the door frame. With their hands on the knob, they spoke, "I'm tired, I’ll be leaving" 

They at least waited for a response from you. Nothing.

On the verge of tears, they spoke, "I hate how we're stuck in this cycle"

Your throat felt a lump, you started having trouble breathing. Tears started forming on the corners of your eyes. Every happy memory of you together flashed in your head. It felt like the end. “We can fix it”, you thought. “We’re still in love, aren’t we?”, your head emptied itself after that bold question to try and reassure yourself. You realized you were in denial. This whole relationship is hurting you both, it needs to end for both of you to find and know happiness again. Despite the continuous contradictions in thought, in the back of your head, you hoped for them to come back, but you knew that that would be wishful thinking. 

"So this is it, huh?", you thought. The end of this now toxic relationship.

"It's all my fault," you managed to say as your last words. Your habit of rubbing your nape during tough times kicked in and you felt a tinge of pain on your neck. Why so?

As they walked away from your apartment with the wasted present they prepared, another crying show premiered on the empty hallway. Truly, this was not the evening they thought about all day. They felt betrayed. They realized how foolish they were for giving you so many chances and on the night they wanted to have a normal evening with you, they witness another mess of yours. 

When they saw your exhausted state - physically or mentally? who knows? maybe even both - that reminded them of themself. They hated it.

You two were part of each other's childhoods. Each of you saw the ugly side of you two and your family interactions. You two were similar. You two had a connection. That connection was not the healthiest…. for what tied you together was the similarity in traumas. Trauma-bonding was the word for it.

During the long elevator ride, they stood still with their temple rested against the lift wall. They remembered the day you two reconciled after your first nasty breakup. 
Love was absent, but you both tried to think that it was not. You both tried rubbing your skin against each other, tried hugging one another, tried locking lips, but it did not feel the same. 

Empty. 

"It is so funny," they thought, “How many breakups has there been?”

Tonight was the night of their attempts to try to turn things back. It never felt like what it used to, but you both were in an unspoken acting competition. You both tried to ignore the fakeness in your atmosphere because you both treasured the memory of the hardships you both have been through together and the many happy memories cherished together. But at this point, losing yourselves in this unnerving relationship, how can you both love again? When ruins are what you are. 

~~~~
You: Where are you?
Them: I'm in a cab
Them: You?
You: I'm at home

Them: Oh, I'm sorry
You: For what?
Them: Just.. everything
You: I am, too. Stay safe
Them: Thanks (for everything)

You: Oh, hey-
Them: he-
You: nevermind
Them: No, what is it?
You: I don't think we're in love anymore
Them: oh
You: hmmm. . .
Them: This is for the best

Goodbye.
~~~~