Holding Me Back

Not all romances end with happily ever after.

He acts nonchalant-- "No, there's nothing wrong. We're simply over. Done. Tossed in the garbage," he says. "Did I love her? ...Well," the person he's talking to looks at him almost threateningly, expecting some insightful answer about love, about how she changed his life or something sickening like that, "Well... of course."
For a moment he feels the needles of anxiety tear at his chest. He bites his lip and looks at the ceiling and pictures her face... her smile... how it grows into a warm laugh that whispers off the walls at first, and then bounces like a sunflower in the summer wind. The needles in his chest turn to bermuda grass in her front yard as he flashes back to a memory of laying there with her, one arm behind her and the other strewn across her stomach. Her beautiful eyes were a mixture of the lush, green grass and the perfect blue sky above him. Staring straight into them, he said three words that he had no way to explain in any other way, perfect, only for her-- but they weren't enough. Her face warmed into that beautiful smile again. She laughs. "I know."
He feels the electricity fly through his veins as their lips touch-- a feeling that he'd never gotten before with any other girl. He wouldn't tell her for months to come but he loved that feeling. Every time he kissed her he'd feel the energy, the cliche description of fireworks.
Yes. He was in love with her. And he acted mad at her, angry at everyone else if they brought her up, when really he was only furious with himself for making the mistake to let her go.
The sad thing is: she knows it.
She attempts to parade around her social networking sites, telling everyone she's great, life's good, oh-she-laughed-so-hard-at-this-inside-joke-last-night-that-no-one-else-understood-but-her-and-her-dad statuses cover her Facebook wall. She creates a facade that she's over him. So he tries to do the same.
The walls he builds in between each other soar far above their heads and cast shadows on their sprightly moods. Depression encases both of them in a sleepless dream. They miss each other more than anything.
Crying won't come because the emotion portrayed in their mind isn't even close to the shivering cold loneliness they feel. When attempting to explain it they simply open their mouth and shake their head-- no words come close. They bite their lips, continuing to shake their head back and forth.

One day she speaks to him again.
"Why?" She asks. He pictures her kissing him again, and thin sheets of glass cut through his stomach. He closes his eyes.
"I..." He starts. She looks at him earnestly, only wanting to know the truth. "I don't know, okay? Damn it, Bonnie, I don't know." Fury boils his tears out of his eyes faster than he can comprehend what's happening. "I wanted a break. I don't know..."
"... A... break?" Her eyes close. He holds onto his sanity with every last will, locking his arms to your side because he's so tempted to take her into his arms again and kiss her.
"Yes. You know. Pause. Time-out." She sort of snorts, as if his short explanation was comedic in some way. A tear escapes from her, smearing her mascara. She's beautiful, he remembers.
"No, like... how long?" She turns around.
"Forever. Bonnie you don't want to date me."
"Oh my God, Keegan! You don't know that!" Her hands fly in the air in frustration. "You don't understand... the... the capacit-- no, the... the ability I have... to love you." She faces him again. "I don't even get it. Every time I see you I get this jolt of energy in my heart like I've been plugged into some source of.. I don't even know! It's surreal. And then when I think of you I can't help but think of our ki... our k..." Her hands hide her face as her whole body shakes in a bone-chilling sob. She ebbs every ounce of pain out of herself, willing it upon him, driving him mad with the disability to comfort her from something he brought upon her himself.
"I'm sorry."
"N-n-n-oo... no. You're n-no-ot." Her crying chops into her words.
"Yes. I am. You know I still love you, right?"
Her crying stops. Instantly. She lifts her head and looks at him tenderly at first, then with hatred and anger. Her face, just moments ago contorted with such sorrow for such an incredible loss now fumed.
"You don't. Don't lie to me, Keegan. If you loved me at all you wouldn't have left me in the first place! All this crap you're giving me, it's all a giant excuse. You damn sure don't love me any more. I don't know why I even give you a second thought. Grow up."
"Bonnie, I..."
"NO!" She screams, "DON'T EVEN START!" Her hands ball into fists as she stands up, taller than him. Her breathing is heavy. "Don't even try to tell me that you do. You've ruined everything."
He looks at her as she sits back down, calmer now, but still shaken. His hands remain plastered to his side.
"Do you remember on New Year's Eve, how happy we were? Completely content with just being with each other? You told me that night that you wished you could show me how much you loved me. You have."
He did remember that night. He remembered smiling stupidly at her like she was a goddess-- his goddess, nonetheless-- and she did nothing short but the same. "What...?"
"The pain you've put me through shows me. You don't love me. You wouldn't make me go through this if you did." She nodded her head as if content with her words, then paused as if to wait for his reply. "And I'm not sure if I love you anymore either." No reply came, so she stood up to walk away, but found she couldn't.
Something held her back.