"Alex..." I stared at her for a while. It felt like hours I sat there on my bed, disconnected from my surroundings. My head swam. I felt strange just sitting there, staring at her, but I couldn't bring myself to move or speak or even look away.

"Please..."

I felt that familiar, wretched ache crawl its way through my chest like a monster. Blood rushed though my viens like fire, crawled up to my shoulders, fueled the ache. But I didn't move. I just stared at her.

"Mitchie, you have to feel it too, right? I mean things have been off for a while. I just think it's time, you know?" Every syllable cut though me like a knife, every word a dynamite. My jaw clenched. Everytime I would get angry. I promised myself last time that I wouldn't get angry. Yet, I know it's inevitable. She infuriated me. How did I still love her when she infuriated me.

"Alex, you said this last time," betrayed by my voice yet again, I swallowed my anger and fought to keep my shredded resolve. "And when we don"t speak for a few months you'll end up calling me again. How many times do we have to go through this damn cycle?"

I felt it coming, then, with my raising voice. The complete influx of emotion. I knew crying was a sign of weakness for her, but then again any sign of emotion was. I entertained the thought once that maybe she happened to experience something tragic in her all too unfamiliar backstory. Something, anything to explain how completely cut off she was. But then I came to realize that this was no facade, no result of foul play. This was her in all of her horrible glory.

But I loved her. And as the poison in my veins threatened to burst through my skin like fireworks, this was all I could think. This was all I held on to.

"Well, maybe this is it," Alex paced my floor, though she sounded more so like she was trying to convince herself. "Maybe this is where we draw the line. I mean I know we thought we were doing fine but look at us Mitchie we're fighting all the time and I can't even get a word in between. I'm exhausted and I'm... I'm bored."

Bored. Another pulse ran though my veins. Another ache ripped though my chest. I grabbed my pillow and pressed it deep into my chest, desperately trying to release the tension both on my body and in the room.

Alex ceased her pacing and stood before me. I couldn't look at her any longer, I felt as though I was going to be sick at any moment.

We weren't always this broken. At least, for a while we had that stage where everything was new and exciting. I think along the way we both slowly figured out that we just didn't work. There was spark, definitely. But there was no real foundation to our relationship. And here we stand now as proof almost a year later, desperately clinging to the very last threads like starving children. I didn't understand how I still loved her.

I was completely infatuated with her at first. I knew it, too. I knew I was going to be in trouble with her. She lit up a room, how could I not be drawn to that light like a helpless moth? How could I not be so utterly facinated with her words that strung together like poetry? Even her outlook. her dreams, her asperations became attractive to me. I felt she was the most awe-inspiring person I'd met. But as I delved a little deeper and uncovered her dark shadows and her mystery, I discovered she was just as much a trainwreck as the next person. But I loved her.

I had given up on my friends and family understanding our relationship because even I couldn't explain it. I'm sure she couldn't either, given the chance. We would break up, spend a few weeks or months in silence, and then I would get a call with that damn voice on the other end and somehow, someway I took her back. And she knew I would. She knew I couldn't say no, she knew I'd forgive and forget. So she called. And I did so. But everytime we would get past the initial few weeks, we'd end up at this very moment, engaged in this very conversation.

"You're bored," I scoffed angrily, "If you're so unentertained by me then why the hell are we together, Alex? Please, I'd love to know."

"I don't know," Alex raked her nails roughly though her hair, but the strands did not fall back into place. "I just... I don't know. I care about you."

"You care about me?" I stood from my bed, resisting my urge to clench my fists. I still held tight to my resolve. I could not let her break me again. "You have a pretty shitty way of showing it. Add the fact that you're always telling me to show I care for you more, yet when I start to, you pull away. Can't you at least see how confusing that is for me?"

Alex shrunk back a little, "Yeah... well I mean yeah that makes me sound like an ass."

I almost rolled my eyes, "You are completely ridiculous. And I am so sick of dealing with this push-pull nonsense."

"Maybe I should just leave then," Alex threw her hands up, inching towards her bag. In my infuriated haze, I paid no mind to the consequences of my words. I never did when we would do this. I just wanted to be alone, ironically so that I could sulk over her.

"Leave, then. I certainly won't stop you,"I returned to my bed, hugging the pillow back to my chest.

Something in her eyes changed, then. It never had before. Most of the time one of us will end up crying with rage, and the other too sad to even fight. But I realized then that this time was different, and although everything felt familiar, and the ache in my chest brought one wave after another, I knew I would not get another call.

Alex slowly reached for her things and before I could process the foreigness of the situation, she had left. I didn't go to my window to watch her leave. I didn't buckle over on my side, distraught and sobbing. And although my chest hurt and my veins pulsed their sickening, electrifying sadness though me, I felt relieved.

Maybe this is it.

Maybe it was.

a/n: I'm sorry this is so sad.