Graham

How could he?

Those three words continuously repeat themselves over and over in my head. I can't even fathom the answer. I know I said a lot of stuff that I shouldn't have, but that was our first real fight and he bailed immediately without second thought. The worst part about this whole thing is that he didn't even tell me. He just kept it a secret this whole time like maybe I just wouldn't notice if he was gone one day. To be fair, I haven't been very observant as of late, but I thought he'd be patient with me like he always has.

I could hear him packing up his toothbrush and shampoo from my room earlier and the tears just wouldn't quit. I thought after this whole ordeal Damon would at least be there for me and understand how I'm feeling but he just doesn't. He's acting like his absence is really no big deal because I messed up bad for the first time ever in our very short lived relationship. To think I was going to actually give it my all this week and do my best to be normal and not terribly depressed just for him makes me feel sick now. I love him but this is something else.

I guess it just hurts all that but more because I've held Damon at an incredibly high standard for the longest time now. This is just disappointing to say the least. I toss and turn in my bed. All I want is to go to bed but I can't stop thinking that this is somehow all my fault. Of course I'm mad at Damon, but ultimately, it was me who made the final call to go to my parent's house. It was me who couldn't control my emotions. It was me who caused him to even consider leaving.

I just wish I could feel bad for yelling at him earlier. He deserved it in my opinion. I've never been so angry in my life. It doesn't even matter anymore though. I just need to keep reminding myself that this is really the end and he will really be gone tomorrow, well, more like today considering the time.

I tiredly rub at my eyes before putting on my glasses. It's 7:30am. I would never be awake at this time and neither would Damon, but something tells me neither of us got very much sleep last night though. I'm proven right as I leave my room to see Damon attempting not to nod off while watching Saturday morning cartoons. I want nothing more than to go over and ruffle is messy hair, but he is no longer mine and I do not have that right. He made that very clear last night.

I stop staring at my ex boyfriend and make my way to the kitchen. I hate saying that. Ex boyfriend. I always thought Damon and I were going to make it. It seemed like that feeling was mutual too. Not mutual enough I guess. Dear god, what have we done?

Slowly but surly, Damon follows me into the kitchen and watches as I make coffee. I instinctively make him a cup and think about pouring it down the drain, but considering how I also played a part in our demise I decide that I should play nice.

I lean back on the counter and take in his features. I wish I knew what he was thinking when he decided that contract was a good idea. He was obviously hurt by what I said but I didn't know he'd be hurt enough to just up and leave after a rather traumatizing weekend. I actually feel quite betrayed towards his actions but it's too late. I tear my eyes from his face and try my best to ignore him.

"Graham can we please just talk?" He begs. I turn around and start putting away dishes. I don't want him to see how bad I'm shaking or how if I look at him longer than I have to I'll start crying.

"What's there to talk about? It's over." I say abruptly as I begin to put the plates away more aggressively. I can tell he's not happy with my behaviour lately. I'm not even happy with it. I've been acting like an absolute brat lately and I don't even know how he put up with it this long.

"It doesn't have to be over Graham. Please just hear me out!" He pleads so I spin around to face him again. He looks exhausted but I probably do too. It not good for us to be having this conversation while sleep deprived but neither of us care enough to stop.

"Explain then. Tell me why you're ruining what we have? Because I'd really like to know." I smile sarcastically as he looks down at his feet. There once was a time that I never wanted Damon to feel bad about himself. Where I wanted him to be nothing but okay. Now though, there's a bitter resentment in the air and the two of us are basking in it.

"I didn't know what to do, Graham. You were just so angry and I wasn't thinking! It's only six months and I'll be back before you know it. Please don't do this. We can't end like this." He rushes out. It's not a good enough excuse. I get it. I wasn't as nice as I should have been. I have been kicking myself over and over for the past week because of it, trying to tell myself that he understands I was under a lot of stress and pressure. If I had known Damon is one to crack at the first signs of problem, I never would have let him into my life in the first place. I would have just let him stay the night and tell him that's his limit. He has been ravenous on my life and I can't get this time back. I can't get back my ignorant bliss of not knowing what being alive feels like. I hate him for it, but I don't hate him.

It's quite the conflicting feeling when the one you love decides they've had enough in a split second. You want to beg them to stay until all the air leaves your lungs, but you know that if they ever really intended on staying, they would have made more of an effort to stay in your life. Put up some sort of fight. Damon did not. I've done a lot of growing up since Damon showed up that day. I'm not the same indecisive child I was only a few months ago. I know what I need and right now it's not him. That doesn't necessarily mean I have to feel great about it.

"No." It's all I say. It feels like the first time that word has ever left my lips. His face contorts into a strange mix of sadness and anger.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" He spits. He does not have the right to be angry right now. He saw what my family did to me. I have never gotten personal about my previous home life with anyone but Grace. He knew what he was getting into before we even got there and he chose that it was too much. He's made his bed, now he needs to lay in it.

"I mean no. Six months is not nothing and I'm not waiting that long for... for this." I motion between the two of us. "I'm not putting myself through that. This has been disappointing enough and I can't do it again just when I finally heal. If you're leaving, you need to stay gone." I explain.

"What? So you can go back to wallowing in self pity and painting shit paintings? Is that really what you want for yourself?!" He's angry and I get it. I'm not too happy with him either, but I'm past the point of yelling. I've been defeated. There's nothing left here to salvage.

"If that's what I have to do, I'll do it. I just know that this isn't feasible anymore." I sigh. Damon looks as though he's about to burst but I feel quite good about this decision and for the first time ever, I feel good about myself. After hating myself for so long it feels good to finally pay some sort of respect.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Signing the contract was a mistake! A heat of the moment fuck up! I didn't think we were even going to get this far after that fight! I saw an out and I took it!" He shouts. Tears nip at his eyes but he doesn't let them fall. His voice breaks towards the end of his spiel and I just look away so I don't lose my shit.

"Exactly. You saw an out and you took it." Me saying this only makes Damon even more angry. This was his decision. Of course I played a part and I accept that, but he signed his name on the dotted line. I didn't.

"Fine then. Hate yourself forever for all I care. I'm not doing this. I'm not going to beg you to wait for me because it's not even worth it. You want to be alone for the rest of your miserable life? Go for it. I'm done giving a shit because you obviously don't." Ouch. That one kind of hurt. I don't cry though. I'm done. He searches my features for any semblance of hurt. When he doesn't find it, he scoffs and storms out to the balcony, slamming the door behind him. He's wearing a t-shirt and only socks protect his feet from the snow, but he seems to heated to shiver.

I just go to my room and sit on the bed. I stare at the floor and the longer I do so, the hurt reaches it's breaking point. Ugly sobs bubble up my throat as I struggle to breathe. For once it feels good to cry. It makes it easier to know Damon would hurt me like this. I don't want to miss him. I know I will, but this lessens the load just a little bit.

I hear the door slam again and I know he's inside. I want him to stay away and I know he will. I need to protect myself right now. I need to not care about how he feels for once. I've spent to much time worrying what he thinks and now I need to worry about myself again. I feel okay though.

***

The day drags on slowly and Damon and I avoid each other. He leaves at some point to go say his goodbyes to Alex but I know he'll be back because his suitcase is still here. I haven't cried since this morning and I know that's some sort of personal growth. At least in my books it is.

Since Damon's been out, I've folded the pullout back into a couch and cleaned up the space where he once lived. You almost couldn't tell he was ever here. Good.

It's nearly 11:30pm by the time he comes back. I don't tear my eyes from the New Year's Eve program playing on my tv. I don't need to look at him to know he's crying. I don't care. At least that's what I tell myself.

He sits on the opposite end of the couch and watches along with me. I don't have the strength to tel him to leave me alone so we just sit in an awkward silence. Last night I thought our final goodbye would be a lot more tearful and emotional on my end but it's not. It's just bland. I feel like we're strangers. I know him no more than a stranger on the bus.

The phone rings and Damon sighs before picking it up. A short conversation is shared but I know it's his band mates. They're here.

He does one last sweep over the apartment, making sure he leaves nothing behind. I made sure to put his shirt I was wearing last night in his suitcase. I don't need anything to remember him by. I don't want to remember him.

I follow him to the door so I can lock it behind him. He turns to face me after pulling on his shoes.

"I guess this is it, huh?" He sounds tired and hurt. I look away so I don't start crying. There's no use for it now.

"Yeah." I hum in agreement. Everything is so strained and weird. This hardly feels like the same man I met on my balcony.

"See you around?" He attempts but I shake my head.

"Probably not." His hope diminishes and he just nods before picking up his suitcase and walking out of my life for good. This is fine. I can deal with this.

I take back my spot on the couch and light a cigarette inside. I know I'm going to get an earful from my neighbours but something tells me they'll let this one slide, what with all the yelling that's been going on for the past few days. Once again, it's only me, my cigarette, and the world.

Just as I get to the filter, everyone in time square begins to count down as the ball drops.

Five, four, three, two, one. End of a century.

Hm. It's nothing special.