That's what they are going to say about us with their sorrys written all over their faces.
"It's for the best."
That's what they are going to say to me.
I know it's for the best. They don't realize this, but I've been saying that since the first time we split up. They don't know how many times I sat at home thousands of miles from him wandering, "Are we going to make it this time?".
What they don't know is how much I loved him, still love him, and know that this "better for the both of us" is killing me because I know that it's better we are apart. And for good this time.
He needs consistency in his life. It's something he hasn't ever really had. He needs someone who can drop whatever their doing at the moment and join him wherever he is right then. I tried being that girl, but I wouldn't, couldn't do it anymore. I wanted my own life and in the end it didn't fit into his.
People said it was selfish of him to always want me to drop everything and come to him. Why couldn't he do the same? He has plenty of money. But that's just it.
He wouldn't, couldn't for the very same reasons why I couldn't.
I still can't believe it.
For a great and wonderful time, I belonged to Nick Carter.
I was his and believe it or not,he belonged to me.
I was just this "normal" girl he stumbled upon one day at a little street market, not the "next big thing" in Hollywood, just normal.
We weren't supposed to "be" from the beginning.
We had met on his groups� hiatus after "Chapter One" came out.
He had all this free time and so we were able to spend more time than we ever expected together.
I knew when he first started to talk about making a solo album I would lose him.
Lose him to his world and ......mine?.......mine would suffer because of it.
He promised he would call everyday and visit whenever he could. I smiled and said " okay, I love you, good luck.". Because inside I already knew he would do it anyway.
Sure enough the phone calls became fewer. Visits were shorter and few and far between. We started bickering and fighting more. Around this time we decided to take a "break". The first of many. We would have this on and off again schedule for another year and it was slowly driving us apart.
He had a week off before he would go to Europe and record the new Backstreet album, a week before we would say goodbye.
It was perfect timing. I was having my Spring Break at college and his schedule would coincide perfectly. He planned on flying in and staying at my apartment with me while my roommate was gone-giving us all the "us" time would could have.
The first day we just laid around, and pretty much said nothing to each other. But by the second day we were screaming at each other for everything that the other had done wrong. We let everything out and then slowly realized what we had to do.
The next three days were a blur of crying, love making, laughing, long precious moments of silence and then gut wrenching goodbyes and memories. We slept mostly the last day because of how emotionally and physically spent we were and prepared for the following day.
So we reach the last day and we are at the record company's party celebrating a new deal and a new record. Funny how all I want to do is cry at such a happy event.
He's busy talking up the suits and saying his thank yous to all the well wishers across the room and every now and then he will look at me with that beautiful smile. To anyone who is looking will think how in love we are, but in reality we are saying our own version of goodbye.
This week has been one the happiest and saddest times of my life and I'm ready to let go.
Then he walks over and takes my hand,
"One last dance Laney, just one more...."
He is trying to hold on and let go at the same time and it's leaving a bittersweet memory in my heart. All I want to do is throw myself in his arms forever because I have never felt a love like this before, but all I say is,
"Yes"
We danced that one last song and then said I love you and goodbye one more time.
At one time I was his and, believe it or not, even Nick Carter once belonged to this normal girl.
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