How can something so painful look so beautiful? If only our words had been different. If only the truth could be pleasant.
We sat next to each other on the leaf covered ground. I didn't want to look at him. Every time my gaze fell upon him, my heart leapt. Or sank, or stopped, I'm not sure which.
The moonlight poured through the treetops. Any other night I would have smiled. I would have loved to be there. But that night I wanted to be anywhere but next to him. I didn't want to feel that pain. All I ever wanted was for him to hold me in his arms.
How could I feel so much and he feel none of those same emotions? I thought I would explode, I felt so much. He felt nothing. Pity, maybe.
"Serenity, I can't pretend to love you. It wouldn't be fair."
I felt his eyes on me, but I looked the other way. He waited for a reply. I never gave one, and he left a few minutes later.
I'm writing this, years later, to say that true love never dies. I will die, soon after I put this blade to my wrists, but my love for him never will. You can't change how someone else feels. They could pretend, for your sake, but it wouldn't be fair.