My One Shots

The Moon

“I probably don't sound like myself right now but i don't even feel the same way about the moon, and you're talking about life and all the other beautiful things?” She scoffed.

It pained him. “What are you saying? Are you for real?”

“Why wouldn't i be?” She smirked, a painful one.

“You're kidding me. You, of all people, taught me to love the moon. You, of all people, are the reason why i started to love the moon in the first place. You, of all things beautiful, taught me to see the moon as the strongest one, one who stays alone, through all phases. You're saying this? I can't believe this.”

“...”

“You're right, Rose. You don't sound like you anymore.”

And he left.

He just left.

As if he just got up from the stone wall, from right beside her, and walked away. As if it was just that--the physical walking away. As if moving away from her was so easy.

As if it wasn't walking away--not just with his physical feet but--with the feet that he walked with into her heart.

As if it was that easy.

Was it, though?

It was in the way that his feet moved, away and away, that she saw it--the harsh reality. He was going away. Those steps he took didn't carry the love in them, she could feel it, the deprivation.

Paranoia, you might say.

It was quite hard to believe. She felt gutted--anxious, shocked, and maybe angry, too. It was a horrible mix of feelings, hard to track down. How could he leave me particularly the moment in which i needed him the most? Probably more than i ever needed him? It couldn't be him. I don't believe it's him. I, at least, anticipate a goodbye, even if it's formal.

She was so caught up in shock that she forgot to move and just stayed frozen there until it was getting dark.

It was past dusk when she finally awoke from her own little bubble of disbelief and climbed down the wall. Walking home, she was noticing all the little things in her surroundings, including the moon, and the stars that were his favorite before she came into his life, and drinking in the fact that he was probably gone.

But do you give up on someone you love so easily? Even if they're the ones to have left you? But you also cannot beg them to keep you, can you?

***

It wasn't easy for him to walk away, either; in fact it hurt with every step he took farther away from her.

I'm so useless, he thought. I can't do anything for her. What i really ever did is hurt her, including this time. I shouldn't have affirmed my love for her in the first place, let alone make her love me back. I shouldn't have.

He felt helpless. Frustrated. Useless, you may add. And he felt like such a douche.

[Author's note: The paragraph you just read right here is what really fascinates me about boys (particularly those good at heart, like really good); they usually feel shitty about themselves and douche-y and stuff. And they won't really talk about it, either. (Which is SO annoying when you KNOW what's really going on.) What they don't ever understand is how we see them--we, the ones that truly see their true beauty. What they remain unable to see is their own beauty. The people who love them will try their level best and they still won't be rid of those insecurities. They always remain hiding their true selves. (What concerns me about this is the question ‘why?’) It truly fascinates me. PS: I'm so sorry, i never do these, but this time i literally couldn't resist and had to rant.]