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NADINE ANDREWS tasted the tension in the room as she stared across the table at her baffled boyfriend staring coldly in shock. She told him the news she would be moving away, and she knew he hadn't been taking it well. Really, it was a common reaction. She hadn't expected him to be okay with it.

His lips were molded together in a tight frown, one that hardly ever stained his face. It only worsened her guilt as the words burned inner throat. She was leaving that exact same day. Time was playing games with them.

For the past two weeks, she had been too afraid to tell him that their time together would be cut short. Nadine was only reminded of the past four years they spent together, planning the course of the next fifty years of their life. But life was cruel and so was love in the end. This would be the goodbye she would never get to say. To Nadine, this hurt her more than it did him. It hurt to get slapped by the stiff fingers of reality. It was cold, painful, and wrenching.

"Why did you wait so long?" He asked her with sad, somber eyes. Nadine flinched because she knew this had been her fault for all the wrong reasons. She wanted to hold onto something, cling onto something to make this day go away—for her to stay. She was drowning and falling, and no one could catch her.

"I-I wanted to ignore it," she admitted, averting her eyes toward the window where the big u-haul truck backed inside the driveway with her parents shouting directions. Nadine realized it had been a beautiful day—too sunny and warm to match her emotions. The world seemed to mocked her.

"Dammit, Nad this couldn't have been ignored. If I had known—" he started but stopped. Nadine had a feeling that if he had known the previous days would have been more saddening. Even if he did know, things still would have resulted in the same outcome. Two broken hearts with no direction in mind.

"There was nothing you could have done to prevent this," she admitted and it was like a jab to the stomach for both of them. A silence settled between them.

"This sucks," Nadine muttered and she could feel the wetness staining the corner of her eyes. Her heart was aching for something to make this better, but nothing came. Then, the tears started to fall. Her boyfriend got up to comfort her with all that he had. Who would have known thatvwould be the last time they saw each other? Who would have known that that'd be the last time Nadine would smell her boyfriend's clover cologne, his lavender laundry detergent, or his freshly washed hair? Nadine wouldn't have guessed that this would be the last time he would ever hold her like that. Who would have known that any of this would have happened four years ago?

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair. Nadine cried harder against his shirt when she noticed their proximity and the empty house around her. Her stomach sunk at every memory that flooded her head. "I'm so fucking sorry, Nad."

It was funny. That'd be the last time anyone called her that. It was her name from him. Nad. How beautiful and catastrophic to know that the love of your life once had you at the tip of your fingers? Only to lose you in the end. Nadine had lost him and the name Nad that day. But she promised herself one thing, that she would never stop loving him even when it wasn't possible.

Briefly, she wiped away her tears, standing up. She somehow felt dizzy. Her boyfriend steadied her, holding her with his chin above her head. The motion was swift and easy, but still so, so meaningful. His soft touch burned through the fabric of her clothes. Nadine didn't want to know where they went from there. Because in a few hours, she knew that they wouldn't be we. Just a him and I.

"I love you," Nadine whispered and she could feel him stiffen against her. She knew it was wrong to say that, but she meant it with every ounce of her being. She meant it for an eternity. She would always love him. She didn't think she could stop.

And as the seconds ticked away he finally said, "I love you too, Nad, and I will never stop loving you."

Then she kissed him.

And that was that. So, when Nadine left that empty house she also left her heart. Her eyes still, sometimes, stung from those old tears, and the distant smell of him. She would still look at pictures of the two of them and wonder what would have happened if she never moved.

When she left she replayed the scene over and over in her head as they drove the moving truck on the interstate. Where the ends were shaky, and the beginnings were foreign. So as life moved forward, in a way, Nadine still felt like she was left with her ex-boyfriend in that empty house where she left her heart behind. And where she let her boyfriend down slowly. And where she kissed him goodbye.

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HARTLEY JAMES watched the seconds tick by as he sat in the locker room with his head scooped low. Sweat dripped from his forehead and water fell from his hair. Somehow, today's practice felt much worse than any other. Of course, it was hard when your father was the football coach, Hartley thought bitterly. Slowly, Hartley began taking off his gear, replacing it with a casual tee and some worn-out jeans. Just as he was putting his shirt overhead the door crept open, and the star quarterback walked in, muttering something stressful under his breath.

Hartley tried to ignore it, but when he met the brown eyes of the towering ball of fury his heart melted. He always had a sweet spot for him. To him Zac was perfect. He had been in love with him since they were in middle school. Still, despite the drastic changes and transitions, Hartley thought he looked the same. The only mere difference was puberty, which only made him more attractive. Hartley sucked in a breath as he finished putting his shirt on, watching as Zac shoved his things into his locker. Hartley couldn't help the way his heart lept over the cliff that separated him and Zac in the first place.

It only hurt more to know that his father would never approve of his sexuality or his love for Zac. It was a burden, a deathly curse, and Hartley was ashamed. Without acknowledgment, Hartley didn't realize he was staring terribly hard, and that he caught Zac's eye.

"What are you looking at James?" he snapped and Hartley averted his attention. He didn't mean it. He couldn't mean it. He was upset. That's what Hartley told himself. Yet his stomach bubbled and there was something that told him otherwise. That was the thing about love, it made you blind and oblivious.

Instead, Hartley watched the floor, wanting it to open up and swallow him whole. Negative thoughts filled his mind as his eyes went up to watch Zac again, who had been removing his gear. One by one. Piece by piece. Until he had on a casual pair of clothes. Hartley swallowed, eager to tell Zac how he had felt. Maybe that would have made him feel better. Slowly, Hartley stood up, which caused the bench to squeak, and Zac whipped his head around.

Love made you oblivion. Sometimes naive. Sometimes blind.

"You alright?" Hartley asked, smoothing down his jeans. He found himself trotting over to Zac's personal space with small proximity between them. The air turned hot.

"No," he released with a sigh. "I fucked up today at practice. The weight of this team is on my shoulder, and I can't even lead them right. I don't deserve the position of a captain."

His words hurt Hartley more than they did Zac. He hated seeing him like this. So vulnerable and beat up. The worst part was that Zac had no idea that the coach was Hartley's father.

"Hey, it's okay," Hartley comforted, suddenly gaining the courage to place his hand on Zac's shoulder. For a flicker of a moment, he hesitated, but Zac missed it—far too absorbed in his wallowing self-pity. Since Hartley was only a cornerback he felt like his position wasn't as refined and difficult as Zac's. "We all make mistakes, and we have to learn from them and live with them," Hartley explained.

"Thanks, man," Zac thanked, pulling Hartley into a bro hug. Guess that was what the friend zone felt like. When they pulled apart, Zac went back to his task, then tossed his bag over his shoulder, flashing that damn smile at Hartley. If Hartley hadn't had any self-control, he would have kissed him then and there. But felt remorse as he imagined Zac's girlfriend and his father's face. Secretly, he gazed at Zac's lips and wondered how it would have felt to kiss them. Just to imagine the feel of them on his.

"You're a great friend," Zac said and as he was about to pass, Hartley encircled his fingers around Zac's wrist, causing him to stop. Zac looked at his fingers, then up at Hartley. Hartley hadn't thought any of this through, and now as he thought of it he knew how crazily awkward he looked. His heart sped up, and he was sure that Zac didn't feel the same way—that he'd either let him down slowly or give him a black eye. Thankfully, neither occurred. Instead, the most spontaneous thing happened, and Zac kissed him long and hard. Zac actually kissed him first, and Hartley was caught by surprise. He hadn't expected it but somehow felt happy and relieved. The taste of his lips ran things through Hartley's mind. How soft they were. How pink they were. How perfect they were. The kiss soon turned passionate as Hartley ran his hands through Zac's hair.

It was as Hartley imagined it would be with butterflies in his stomach, his lips swollen, and it being absolutely beautiful. He had no regrets, but then time froze, and the door opened. It all somehow happened in slow motion. Hartley's spiking heart rate. The blood rushed to his face. His stomach was boiling. There stood, with horror-filled eyes, Hartley's father with his clipboard, and a look of disgust and anger. Quickly, they pulled away and Hartley lowered his eyes, clenching his jaw.

"What the hell is going on here?" His father exclaimed.

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ARIA MARTIN WATCHED her lifeline in fascination. It was amazing how she could trace the lines as if it were a memory she had memorized. She'd learn over the course of six months when her hurt would skip a beat, and every single time she felt it. The odd thing about it was she was never scared. She didn't fear death. If anything she loathed it. She envied how such a small thing could take away such a precious life. The hands of death were, quite literally, knocking on her door and she never feared it.

Today as the nurse came in for the fourth time, forcing down her meds, Aria had somehow felt relaxed. She didn't fuss with the nurse for killing her with the pills and fluids. She didn't snap at the doctor for not being able to fix her. She didn't get mad at herself because she couldn't remember her family and friends. Although she didn't remember them she knew what it felt like to love them. She knew what it felt like to love, and that was the greatest thing she could ask for as her time thinned out.

"You seem chipper today, Aria. No threats for me today, huh?" She teased. Aria gave a weak smile as the nurse handed her a third pill, and then put some fluid medication in her iv. At this rate, it was like the medication was killing her more than herself. She didn't mind though.

"Any visitors today?" Aria asked, lighting up in optimism. The poor frown upon the nurse's face answered her question, but she had wanted to hear her say it.

"Not today. Maybe tomorrow, yeah?"

"Maybe," Aria had hoped. There once was a time when she did have visitors, but that had been months ago. Each day they'd show her pictures and ask who each person was, but it was so hard for Aria. Eventually, they stopped coming, but Aria never stopped hoping. There was an elder lady, Aria remembered, it must have been her mother. Tracy the lady had told her. Aria thought she'd remember a face like hers. It resembled Aria's features in so many ways, but she couldn't no matter how hard she tried to remember, and she blamed herself for forgetting.

There was also a frail man with bald spots scattering his head. Although he was aging, a smile never seemed to leave his face. He was always smiling and that made Aria want to smile. She had wanted to get better for the people that she knew she would someday remember to love her again as she was. She also remembered a younger boy who looked as if he were her brother and an older girl who watched her protectively as if she were an older sister. On some occasions, a boy around Aria's age would visit, and tell her about the stories of their romantic getaways. His name was Cade.

Just the thought of those people who had cared for her made Aria want to remember the dear life she had.

Remember.

Remember.

Remember.

If she thought hard enough she remembered all of their names. Tracy, Carlton, Anders, Freya, Cade. But as she thought of their names only a blank slate appeared. It was no use.

"But," the nurse started, pulling Aria from her reverie. "They did leave a gift," she exclaimed, handing Aria her last pill. Aria swallowed it with a gulp of her water and lifted herself up to skim the perimeter. There wasn't anything new from what she could tell. The same vase filled with wilted roses. The same stack of get-well-soon cards. The same fruit baskets. The same view that stretched out over the city. Aria raised an eyebrow.

"Where is it?" She questioned, beaming from ear to ear. They must've still cared.

"I have to go get it," she chirped in a sing-song voice, then she disappeared through the door. Aria glanced at the television hovered in the corner with its volume amplified to a minimum. She saw the picture of the people that Tracy left on the table. Everyone had been in it, including Cade. She even saw herself, but her hair had been much longer and she looked happier. Somehow, she hated the fact that those people felt like strangers to her when they weren't supposed to be.

Her heart skipped a beat. She could feel the cold medicine rushing through her veins as it always did. Patiently, she waited for her nurse with glee in her stomach. Her fingers were clasped together and her eyes were getting dreary. It was something about hospitals that made you sleep a lot. Aria had learned that as she spent her lonely nights stuck watching the tv show Friends on repeat. After a while, even for Aria, it became devastatingly boring. The theme song was literally the main thing she remembered from the show. It was played a million times in her eyes. Finally, the nurse came back, holding an oversized, brown teddy bear that read we love you. Aria smiled as the nurse handed her the bear with fragility. The first thing she did was hug it, smelling the fresh smell it carried. Her eyes burned and she wanted to cry.

Why couldn't she remember? This was such a burden she didn't deserve. The nurse left before she could thank her, and the tears started falling. This was the most she had gotten out of her family in months. She wished that they had been there when she suddenly remembered their names, and how it stuck for the first time. How much they'd love her when they realized that it was all slowly coming back. It hurt her heart to know that she wouldn't know when they would ever visit again. She wanted to tell them how much she loved them all. She had finally welled up the courage to say it back.

She held the bear tighter. If only they visited more. If only she remembered quicker. If only. If only. Suddenly, she felt sleepy. The kind that would last forever. Her eyelids burned and slowly with her arms wrapped around the pillow she said, "I love you guys, too."

She whispered it into the fluffs of the bear as death pulled her under into the abyss of darkness. The last thing she remembered was that flicker of hope. And the memories came flooding back as she took one last step over the ledge and one last breath. Aria Martin was dead, and the stoic sound of the lifeline beeped throughout the room. She died happily. She died knowing that she'd always love her family and that they too, in return, loved her. Even if she didn't remember.

Because sometimes in love's twisted game, love was all you had left. It was the closest thing that brought people together, even if it was cruel at times.

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NOTE:
Thanks so, so much for reading. I really hope you enjoyed this mini story and the lessons and words that came with each one. I've been working on this for a while, and I finally got the courage to post it after some strong advice from a friend. I realize that I write for me, and that's what's important. If you have any questions I'll be happy to answer them, and I hope that you continue to learn about love and life and friendship and sadness. Until then check out my other works if you enjoyed this one.

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