From walking home and talking loads.

"You ready?" he asked me after we finished recording for the day. "Definitely. Let's go!" I replied. The new studio was only about a mile away, so we had decided to walk there and back. We talked and talked as always, but something seemed a little... different. And I can't tell if that's good or not.

To seeing shows in evening clothes with you.

The next day we had off, so we went to see a show together. I don't remember the name, but I remember that it was amazing. We had such a good time, and I wasn't worried anymore. Everything seemed normal again.

From nervous touch and getting drunk.

The day we got together, we were both so nervous about telling everyone, so we thought we'd have a couple drinks to ease our nerves. Then a couple turned into a couple more, and a couple more after that, and you get the idea.

To staying up and waking up with you.

I don't know what happened that night, but I remember waking up next to him. His hair flying every direction, his face peaceful as he slept. He was beautiful. He still is. Even as he lays in his old room, crying.

But now we're sleeping at the edge, holding something we don't need.

The problem started about a year later. We started fighting about the stupidest things. One of us left a dish out, I didn't replace the paper towels, he didn't clean up his mess. Everything turned into such a big deal.

All this delusion in our heads is gonna bring us to our knees.

But we didn't realize what was happening. Not until Kirstie noticed our constant bickering. Of course at the time, we just brushed it off. We said it was our stress, that we just needed to finish recording, then we'd be fine. We were Scott and Mitch, and we could make it through anything. I still believe that. I hope that it's still true.

From throwing clothes across the floor.

After that we were better for a little while. We talked more and fought less. We were happier. We thought all of our problems were gone.

To teeth and claws and slamming doors at you.

Then it all fell down. He brought someone home. I was supposed to be working late in the studio, but I finished early. I had made us dinner and set up the table, prepared for a much needed date. We never got to dinner. We did get to the wine, though. We both enjoyed it alone, drowning in our thoughts and sorrows. 

If this is all we're living for, why are we doing it, doing it, doing it anymore?

I think that's when we really fell apart. He moved back into his old room, and we hid from each other as much as possible. He almost moved out, but he couldn't bring himself to. I'm glad. It would've made this all seem too real. Maybe if he's still here, I can wake up from this nightmare.

I used to recognize myself, it's funny how reflections change.

I can't stand myself anymore. I can't stand how miserable I've made him. Sometimes I want to try and fix it, and others I wonder if I should just leave. I have bags under my eyes, there's no shine in my eyes anymore.

When we're becoming something else, I think it's time to walk away.

Yet something keeps us both here. I think it's mostly that if we're both still in the same apartment, we're not really over. We haven't really thrown away 16 years of friendship over my stupid mistake. I think that it means that we still have a chance. I think that's why I'm standing outside his door, working up the courage to knock. Cause neither one of us can let it go. So we'll just have to hope we can fix something that's long been broken. Cause we can't live without each other. I'll try to be me, but I can't without him. He's part of me now.

I knock on the door.

A/N: I'll just leave the end to your imaginations.