Die

His days consisted of pushing all the memories out of his head. It was a difficult feat, but it needed to be done—he had grown too tired of basking in the good times, it only perpetuated the pain that would never be relived, at the very least not with her. There had been an inconsistency in their relationship, the only thing that really remained a standard; their communication skills were shit at best, and neither felt as if they were ever heard.

All he wanted was for her to return an ounce of the same affection he couldn’t go a day without showing her…all she seemed to want was for him to be ok with the situation they lived and operated in. She understood that there were things that were wrong, that there were things that needed to be worked on, just as he did, but it didn’t matter anymore, the effort that was put in was more than she ever wanted to put in, and it didn’t seem like he ever wanted to change at all.

There was never a question of how they felt for one another, there was love, there was care, but there was no passion—it’s not as if it died out, it never seem to be there to begin with. He was worn down, and too tired of fighting to hold on, it seemed as if she didn’t know how to fight even if she had wanted to. This was the perfect mixture to watch the whole thing go up in smoke, one would leave wondering if that was the best thing for themselves…for each other. The other would leave knowing that everything that could be invested had been, and then some. There could only be solace placed in the fact that at the very least neither would be naive enough to put themselves through that hell again. If ever there was a time to change, if ever there was a time to grow it was quickly approaching, and it was now up to them to find it for themselves.