I was so scared to go, to lose what I felt my life had become. You on the other hand were different, to me in a strange way you had embraced it. Seeking the adventure of what was going to become, it had turned into a thrill of excitement, something that was swirling inside of you.
The new feeling filling your veins, giving you a new found high that a drug addict would gain from a night of binging.
I'd pictured our goodbye multiple times, with constant endings playing through, it started to over take my mind like a twisted toxic poison. The one ending I didn't play out was the reality of what it would be, it was a thought that had never crossed my mind.
We sat there emotionless, our eyes never fully meeting. My voice had become strained, my lips dry, not being able to part them properly to form any type of noise. I watched you, took in every single part of the distant body leaning against the freshly white painted wall behind you. I kept my eyes focused on your face, watching your eyes flicker around every corner of the room, failing to ever fall upon me. Your face had become so grey, the confident soul that everybody had loved about you had definitely drifted from your core. Old tears were painted under your eyes, showing marks of where the stream of droplets had fallen, slowing moving down your cheeks to the bottom of your jaw. I continued to watch you as your loveable smirk played across your lips, your eyes now resting on a frayed part of denim of your ripped jeans.
"I don't understand why you're acting like this. Endings are part of this world, surely you knew this was indefinite?" Your voice broke through the silent air, an unrecognisable tone being swallowed by the oxygen around us.
I watched you again, now starting to pick at the lose piece of cotton that had formed from the rip.
"The only person you can trust is yourself." You started to speak again, a tad sense of humour being laced in your voice.
"Do you not trust me?" I questioned, uncertainty running through my mind.
"Of course I do, we wouldn't be hear now if I didn't trust you."
I watched as your legs extended out further than before, pushing your palms to the floor allowing you to stand.
I was confused by what was happening, this whirlwind of events that were starting to unfold moment by moment. You started to pace around the room, the empty freshly painted room, old rags were covering the floor for the decorating that was due to take place.
You'd recently moved, to a flat just off Spittle Street, it was a quiet secluded neighbourhood, were people kept themselves to themselves.
I watched as you pulled a small black wash bag out of your backpack lying on the floor beneath the window.
You turned to me, as you collected your belongs together, resting in a squat like manner, as you glare around the room.
"Nobody knows you're here, do they? It's not important to anybody else, you wouldn't have said anything?" I watched as your eyes finally fell on mine, your green emerald eyes almost pleading with mine.
I shock my head firmly, giving you that firm no that you seemed to want to gain.
You nodded, a simple nod before standing again, going back to the position that you had been sitting in before.
I felt like the only task I had done all evening was watch you, capture every move in my mind that you played out.
Continuing to note your movements, you placed the objects along the floor neatly in front of you. A box of matches, a syringe, a gun and three dusty worn buckets were placed in a straight line as you sat up straight, crossed legged playing with the horrid rip in your jeans again.
I coughed, trying to find the stamina to fire all these questions that were killing me inside, hoping that you would answer them.
"Each road we take in life, leads to the final path we're meant to be on." You muttered. I raised my hands to my head, collecting the fallen strands of hair that were draping losely over my forehead.
"I don't understand?" I returned, collecting my palms together and resting them on my lap.
"I never found my road." You sliently replied.
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