A/N: hello from the grave~ idk what this is please don't hurt me i just kind of wrote what i felt and it's different from my usual style and you don't have to like it but either way i'd really like some reviews b/c who doesn't enjoy reviews?

I.

It's Eli's graduation night.

Everything seems to be going in slow motion. Clare watches Eli walk across the stage gracefully, his face alight with the joy of accomplishment. His smile is wide; genuine, and it brings tears to her eyes. She's brought back to the moment they met, to the discovery of his problems, to the night in the hospital long ago. She thinks about where he was then, and where he is now, and how much she loves him as he accepts his diploma. He's come so far, and though it's not quite the end, she feels a stab of sinking regret in her stomach as Eli shakes principal Simpson's hand, sealing the deal. She only has the summer with him. After two and a half months more, he'll be in in NYC, and she'll be here.

"We'll be okay," he says later that night, after the celebration dinner and the picture taking. They're in his room, and it's two AM, and Clare's head is on his chest. Eli's fingers trail up and down her back as they lay together. "We're going to be okay. You know that, right?" And Clare nods, but she's scared because she doesn't know that, and neither does he. "After all we've been through, some distance isn't going to keep us apart." He sounds so sure, and for now, it's enough.

"I love you," she says, and presses a soft kiss to his lips. "And I'm really proud of you."

Eli smiles. "I always sort of imagined graduation day as some sort of big, monumental change. I guess it is, but I don't feel any different."

"I bet you will when you start college," she reminds him.

He acknowledges that fact with nothing more than a blink.

They don't really want to talk about it anymore tonight.

II.

Clare has never been very accustomed to the concept of change. Change in the weather, in the routine of her sleep schedule, and especially not the change involved in her parents' divorce. She deals with change the same way she deals with laundry duty: silently, and in a state of tired defeat. So, she does what she always does in both cases: she pushes it off for as long as possible.

The summer is passing by quickly. It's already mid July, but nothing feels different, despite the separation looming over their heads. They don't spend every day together, but they do spend most of them that way, no matter if their plans include a date or family errands. They experience a lot of firsts, mostly on Clare's part. They see a lot of movies, read a lot of books, hang out with Adam and Imogen and Katie and Jake. And it goes by in slow motion for them, until they look at their calandars and it's August 10th. But they still don't want to think about the next five days, not even as the very last one approaches.

Clare whispers something to Eli their last night, her face flushed from her forwardness and her impatience. Eli isn't hesitant, but he is surprised. He wonders what he'll feel like after sharing this with her and leaving her just a few hours later. He wonders if he'll be able to handle it. He wonders who will cry more at the airport.

Their skin is heated and Eli is shaking, his long fingers sprawled across Clare's soft, pale stomach. He marvels and he touches, and up and up and up his hand goes, until he's touched all of her, every last inch. It's still not enough.

Whispers and gasps are all they can manage, too lost, too worried, too overwhelmed to speak articulately. It's clumsy, and it's not what they imagined it to be. It's much better. Where Eli ends and Clare begins is almost unclear, and jesus, he's so close, and Clare is trying to will away the ache between her legs, and they hold each other as tightly as possible. Every touch is searing, and before long, Eli starts quaking. Clare winds her fingers in his hair and whispers "I love you" over and over and over again, until his hips stop rocking into her.

"I love you, too," he rasps, and neither of them have ever felt so whole, nor have they ever felt so incredibly doomed.

IV.

He doesn't let go. Not the next morning, when he rises before the sun and urges Clare into the shower with him holding her under the hot water and fumbling with the soap. Not during the ride to the airport, when her head is resting on his shoulder and their fingers are entwined almost bruisingly tight: an empty promise. He doesn't let go, because he can't, and Clare won't let herself let him.

It isn't dramatic. It's full of tears, but it's not cliché. They kiss deeply, but they make themselves let go, finally, and will themselves not to look back as they part ways. Because Clare can't yet feel the separation, can't fathom it. He might as well be going home for the night. She doesn't feel sad again until the next morning, because march over to Eli's house as she might, he won't be there. His parents might be, but she's not sure if they flew back to Toronto directly after helping Eli move his belongings into his dorm. She doubts it.

And then, there, there it is. The first stage of what she feared the moment she saw Eli in his graduation gown. He's there, and she's here, and nothing's the same.

She doesn't know what to make of it. She doesn't know what to feel except anger. So she lets herself be angry. Angry at Eli, and stupid NYU, and her stupid tousled bed that she hasn't slept in in a week, because she's been at Eli's. And she could still sleep in Eli's bed, but he's not there, so it's pointless, and GOD, god, god, she wants to cry.

So she cries.

She's selfish, she knows.

She cries some more.

V.

Eli calls her that morning, but they can't talk for long, because it costs them both a shitload of money per minute. Their voices are comforts to each other, but they're both distant, not sure what to make of the separation. They promise to Skype later, and they both hang up with a vague feeling of regret. The world keeps spinning despite themselves, and they both have to eat and fill their day with SOMETHING before they drive themselves mad. Clare catches up on summer reading for her English class. Eli loads up on a bus full of tourists and lets himself experience NYC all over again.

The year passes. It continues to move, to take its toll on everyone. It's slow and inevitable, overbearing and frustrating. But move it does.

Change it does.

They haven't Skyped in a week. Clare misses him. But she's also trying to fill out college applications, and in the end, concentration wins out. Eli's probably busy anyway. He's really busy these days, you know.

They talk the next day, but it's brief, rushed, full of awkward silence.

"I really have to go."

"Okay," Clare says, but she doesn't recognize her own voice. "I love you."

"Goodbye," Eli says, and Clare feels the sting in every nerve ending in her body. She wonders if it will be another week before they talk again.

It ends up being two, and Clare is irritated because Eli seems so damn detached, and she yells and hangs up and cries because she can feel him slipping away.

"Nonononononono," she says into her pillow. It can't be the end yet.

But he doesn't call her back, and she doesn't wait for him to.

VI.

Christmas break is it. They hug, they kiss, and they even spend the night together. But it's forced. They hold each other, but it's unfamiliar. It's insincere. They love each other, but they don't know why they'd rather be anywhere else.

"I guess you were wrong," Clare says bitterly. "After all we've been through, who knew distance would be the end of us?" Because they both know it's the end. Despite that, Clare kisses him, feeling everything and nothing. She tears her shirt over her head, and he kisses her back angrily. He's only been inside her once before, and Clare experiences the same amount of pain she did then as their bodies join. Eli's not as careful, but he's still tender, and they both let themselves experience the night. Their last night. She nips at his chest and he squeezes her hips, her name a constant murmur on his lips. He's not able to pull her over the edge before he comes, and so he uses his fingers to take her the rest of the way. Clare sees stars, feels herself exploding, feels the warmth for the first time since the end of the summer.

As soon as he pulls out though, it's over. He tries to hold her, but Clare pushes him away. They won't say their rehearsed lines until the end of the break, but they're done, and she can't bear to let herself pretend.

One year, one love, one act, and two minds that grew together and apart and together and apart again. It's not their time. Not their time. Maybe it won't ever be.

"I love you," Eli says, because it's true.

"More than you know," Clare manages, acknowledging that right now, love isn't enough.

"I'll be seeing you?" Eli singsongs, and Clare scowls, irritated at his attempt at humor.

"Probably not," she replies.

She's too young to be that bitter.

Oh, well.

Oh well.

And then, all at once, her world has rotated on its axis. Everything is different, but she's still standing. She has the capacity to love, but not the patience to keep up with all that being with Eli long distance entails. They grew apart, not by the temptation of other lovers, but by their goals and the paths they saw for themselves. And yes, maybe someday, they will catch up with each other, and love will be enough again. They both hope so. For now, they part, and they almost let themselves look back at each other at the airport. But that's for cliché movie scenes.

Goodbye, they think.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

Nothing lasts forever.