Jily Oneshots (pt2)

Pieces

by Mo-Nighean-Donn

"Do you ever miss the pieces of who you used to be? Ever see something that, for a blinding moment, takes you back to a time and place that you can't get back, and just—ache?"

James stared at his phone screen, where he'd pulled up his Facebook for the first time in ages. The post was gone. Remus had sent him the screenshot only minutes earlier, but when James went looking for the original, it wasn't there. Had already been deleted. The poster thought better of their words, or was scared to be that vulnerable and removed that piece of themselves from public view.

James opened Remus' text thread. "Are you sure Lily posted that?"

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Reappeared. "*sigh* Yes, James. You can see it's her in the screenshot."

"But it's gone now?!"

"I don't know what to tell you, Prongs. You should just text her yourself."

James didn't respond. Remus knew why James couldn't text Lily.

Another ping. "Her number hasn't changed."

James clicked his phone off and tossed it onto the rumpled quilt beside him in frustration. The light had gone while he was obsessing over his ex, and now it felt too late to do anything but crawl under the covers and try to sleep. But he couldn't; he had work to do. He reached down beside him, fumbling to pull his laptop out from its perpetual hiding place under the bed. He should move to his desk, he really should. He just couldn't make himself do it.

Damn Remus for sending that screenshot! He knew it would likely derail James for at least a day. Any encounter with Lily did, no matter how many degrees of separation. It was why James hadn't used his facebook since the split.

It hadn't been a conscious decision, but in the painful process of dividing a life so entangled it wasn't ever supposed to come apart, they had also divided their online presence. It was easier to avoid common spaces than to ask their friends, nearly all mutual, to take sides, or to walk on eggshells. Eliminate the conflict before it becomes one.

As a full time content creator, James retained custody of YouTube. He assumed Lily still used the app, but she had only ever observed, never maintained a channel. He had also gotten Instagram, while Lily took Twitter, Facebook, and Tumblr. James missed Tumblr. But he supposed it made sense. He was all about images, visual media, telling stories with no words, making people feel things that couldn't be expressed verbally.

Lily—Lily was all about words. Sometimes he thought she had more than her share, and had taken most of his too. She overflowed with words, spilling them like water from a fountain. She used them, molded them, crafted them, spent them, breathed them. And at the end, that was all there was between them: her words, and his silence.

Thinking about Lily, about what they had, what he wished so fucking much that they could've held onto, only leaves him feeling empty. Drained. After three years, it still feels like yesterday. They had been together for eight years. Through school and university and finding their way into the wonderful and terrifying world of adulthood. Through jobs turning into careers and trying to decide what they really wanted out of life. They had been engaged for Christ's sake! How had so much love fallen apart?

James tried to focus, he really did. He needed his next video at least cobbled together by tomorrow, so he could still have a couple days to fine tune. But he couldn't find the story. He reviewed the footage he had already shot and the story he though he was telling just wasn't there.

"Pieces of who you used to be..." she had said. It didn't sound like her. His Lily didn't do regret, or even nostalgia. She didn't look back.

"Screw it," he muttered, minimizing he editor and opening a web browser. His password was still saved, and in minutes he was scrolling through Lily's wall, mostly her own posts, her own words, or links to her latest tweet or tumblr post. The odd picture.