"Dude, hurry the fuck up, Troye’s crying." Alfie spoke through the phone. My pace immediately picked up, bad situations playing in his mind. "I’ll be there in a minute." He hung up, and started running towards the school quickly. My eyebrows were scrunched together in worry. Once I arrived at school, I immediately saw my group of friends standing in a circle. They were standing outside of the building, seeing as school wouldn’t start for another half hour. We were always early so we could hang out.
I ran towards the group, panting slightly when I arrived. They all stepped out of the way so I could reach my boyfriend. I walked over and opened my arms for him, immediately closing them around his form when he hugged me. I released a soft breath upon realizing he wasn’t physically hurt, and hugged him tighter. I heard soft cries coming from him, as he hid his face in my chest.
Our friends were watching this happen with sad, knowing eyes. I frowned, rubbing Troye’s back softly and placing a soft kiss ontop of his head. ”Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Troye shook his head, taking a deep breath as he pulled away from my embrace.
”We need to talk.” Troye mumbled, and my worries started increasing again. ”In private.” He continued, grabbing my wrist as he started walking off. I followed, totally confused why he wasn’t just holding my hand like usual. He walked over to the wall of the building, and his crying picked up again. He slowly moved against the wall, until he was sitting on the ground.
I kneeled down next to him, pulling his hands away from his face. He had blood-shot eyes, from all the crying, and his hands were physically shaking. I moved until I was sat down next to him, and once again wrapped my arms around his slim torso. His sobs got softer, until they were barely hearable.
His face was hidden in my shirt, and he was now half sitting ontop of me. My fingers were gently carressing his hair, and it seemed to calm him down. Once he was calm enough to speak, he did. ”I-, I should’ve told you sooner, but I was scared. I w-, was so scared, Connor..” He whispered, his voice sounding broken and very sad.
This only heightened my worries, and I started becoming frantic for an explanation. ”Just tell me what’s wrong, love, I promise I won’t be mad.” ”I’m moving back to Australia tomorrow.” Came his whispered reply. It was like the world stopped, for me. Troye was staring at me with his big, blue eyes, full of tears and sadness. I didn’t meet his gaze, my eyes unfocused but somehow still staring at the sky. My head was resting against the wall behind me, and after a few seconds I felt tears trickling down my cheeks.
I couldn’t wipe them away, my whole body felt frozen. My grip on Troye’s hand had become unbearably tight, but Troye didn’t try to pull away. He was whispering to me, crying as well. His words didn’t make any sense to me, more like a maths test than anything. He was going to leave me. That was all I could think about.
I didn’t even have a day with him, anymore. He was leaving the next day and there was nothing I could do. Why didn’t he tell me before? I would’ve been prepared, it would have hurt less. I came back to reality and pushed Troye off of me, pushing myself off of the ground. I stood, wiping at my tears, only for new ones to fall.
I looked at Troye one last time, his whole form blurry because of the tears swimming in my eyes. I blinked rapidly, the tears burning. I shook my head and turned around quickly, before running off. I ran away from the person I loved most. I ran away and didn’t look back. I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. A long-distance relationship wouldn’t work, I know how he felt about those. He had told me before that he wouldn’t want to do that, that it would hurt him too much.
If you love someone, you have to let them go, right? I couldn’t let him hurt himself by having a long-distance relationship with me. I wouldn’t let him do that to himself. I wouldn’t do that to him. It was best just to.. Walk away. Even if it killed me.
I heard him crying, calling after me and screaming for me not to leave him. The whole school was watching me walking away, but I didn’t care. Before any of our friends could stop me, I ran away. I skipped school that day, turned my phone off and spent my day at the beach. Crying, thinking about drowning myself in the water. The waves would swallow me, pull me in further until I wasn’t able to be seen anymore. Pull me to the darkest pits of the ocean, where only fish and sea animals would find my dead body..
Troye left. He really did. When I came to school the next day, he wasn’t there. Nothing could cheer me up. I didn’t speak, and my friends were all worried. I cried, random outbursts of emotion flooding through me at random times of the day. They would comfort me, but nothing worked. The only thing I wanted at that moment was Troye.
I was an emotional wreck the first week. After that I just stopped showing emotions all together. It was better that way. Troye and I didn’t try to contact eachother. Months passed, and my friends just got more worried. I tried proving that I was okay, but I wasn’t, and I wasn’t good at acting like Troye. Troye. Everything reminded me of Troye. I’d cry myself to sleep at night. Every night. It was when I allowed myself to show emotion. Allowed myself to cry over him, sob because I missed him so much.
But it was better that way, wasn’t it?
Half a year passed, and I tried forgetting him. It proved to be difficult. Very difficult, but I had my friends there to help me get through it. I started talking a little more, and actually hung out with friends besides school again. It was hard, and the smiles started out as fake smiles, but it got better. It really got better. The cry sessions at night started happening less, like twice a week.
I wasn’t thinking about Troye every second, anymore. Sometimes I was able to keep him off my mind for a couple hours, and I would feel so proud of myself. I allowed my parents to send me to therapy sessions, which actually helped me. I had my friends and family to pull me through.
Eight months after Troye’s dissapearance, my psychologist was finally able to call me ‘emotionally stable’ and you don’t know how happy I was. Once every week I would cry myself to sleep, because it was good to let my emotions free sometimes. And I was okay. I was actually okay.
And then he came back.
And all of a sudden I wasn’t okay anymore.
”You can’t just show up again and expect everything to be fine!” I screamed, tears dripping down my face in desperation. ”And why not?!” He yelled back, apparently mad. He had no right to be. ”Because-, you can’t!” My voice cracked, and I continued in a more whispery voice. ”I was finally okay again-, and then you come back and just have to ruin that all.”
My crying quickly got heavier, and I could see the regret in his eyes. I broke down, then.
But this time I didn’t walk away. And neither did he. This time he was the one to wrap me up in a hug, and comfort me. And I let him. I cried into his chest, letting out all of my emotions, frustrations and fears. My hands clenched his shirt tightly, afraid of letting go. I couldn’t lose him again. Not after all this pain I’ve gone through.
We did the fricklefrack.
I dedicate the last sentence to Sashenka, ( trxyenutella ) because she came up with it.