Without You
He felt like a stranger in his own house. And he didn’t like it. Walking around, touching things, he felt like he was trespassing. It was because of her. Because she was gone. She’d said goodbye, and he had had no reaction; he’d been stone-faced because he hadn’t really believed it was happening. And now he physically ached.
never even thought to cry
when i heard you say goodbye
never said where you were going
He walked down the sidewalk, looking left and right for the store, not really paying attention to where he was going.
Suddenly he found himself on the ground, a cursing woman on top of him, the contents of her bag strewn all over the sidewalk. The woman got to her hands and knees and began crawling around, collecting all the items that she’d lost, still cursing steadily. He sat up and watched her curiously. He picked up a small memo book that was sitting next to him, a pen hooked in its spiral binding. It fell open in his hands and he glanced at the page before he could stop himself.
“1. D/Hr,” it read, “Futurefic; V. is dead; Hermione does not work at MoM; Runs into Draco while drunk in a bar...
2. Clay/OC – songfic to ‘OTWOL’ (?); already together; cute and romantic, relatively PWP...”
He couldn’t help but chuckle and raise an eyebrow as he looked up at the woman. She was still trying to find the last few things. “Excuse me,” he said, still sitting in the middle of the sidewalk. “You might be looking for these?”
“Yes, thanks, dammit, I can’t believe I lost that freaking thing; what the bloody hell am I going to do now?” she said, taking it blindly from him and shoving it in her bag. “Dammit!” she repeated, with more vigor this time.
“May I ask what it is you lost?” he asked politely, unsure about whether or not she would want his help.
Still looking wildly around, she replied, “my notebook; it had all my notes in it, and I really need it. Damn!”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but is that what I just handed you?”
She stopped dead and paused for a few seconds before quickly opening her bag and looking in it. “Oh thank God,” she said, sitting back on her heels and putting a hand on her forehead. “Thanks for helping me,” she said. “I’m–” Once again she stopped, completely unable to speak as she turned to look at him.
“I’m Clay. And you are...?” he asked, holding out a hand for her to shake.
“I, um, I’m actually rather embarrassed,” she said with a laugh. “Ryan,” she said, shaking his hand. “Wow,” she breathed. He gave her a puzzled look. “It’s just that, well,” she said as they stood up, “you’re Clay Aiken.”
He smiled. “Yes ma’am. It’s very nice to make your acquaintance,” he said. She smiled back at him, and he felt giddy.
“I’m glad to have met you, too,” she said. She glanced at her watch. “Dammit!” she exclaimed again. “I’m so fucking late.” She reached into her bag and handed him a card. “That’s got my number on it...if you’re interested,” she called to him as she dashed by him down the street. She grinned before she turned around and continued on her way. He stared after her and then looked down at the little business card she’d handed him.
He smiled.
there's no laughter in the air
only silence everywhere
and so much left unspoken
He reached up to wipe a tear from his face. Why was it that he could cry now, but when it really mattered, when he might have been able to stop her, he was dry-eyed? He sat down on the bed in his room and looked around at the pictures of her that he hadn’t quite gotten to taking down. Picking up a frame, he ran his thumb over her face beneath the glass. A tear fell onto the glass and he quickly wiped it away. There he went again.
since you've been gone
i haven't been the same
i wish that i could see
who’s to blame
“Do we have to watch Harry Potter again?” he asked.
She nodded, thrilled. “Of course. You wouldn’t want my muse to go on vacation again, would you?” she asked. She grinned at him. The last time she’d been idealess, she’d gone around moping for a week until she’d finally thought of something. He rolled his eyes.
“Can’t we watch...I don’t know... Lord of the Rings or something?”
“I suppose I could always write a DomLijah,” she said slyly. He had been slightly uncomfortable with her hobby since they’d started dating. Especially when she wrote about him. And she certainly did.
He shuddered. “Oh great. How about Peter Pan?” She grinned and put in the movie, cuddling up against him on the couch.
The truth was that he didn’t really mind her stories. He read them when she wasn’t around, and sometimes even enjoyed them. Okay, so he always enjoyed them. Except that one that paired himself with Ryan Seacrest. That was just weird. And he had had a difficult time looking her in the eye after that one, due partly to the fact that it was she who’d written it, and partly to the fact that her name was Ryan.
Their relationship was the type that was easily taken for granted. They really cared about and had feelings for each other, but the way they acted was like a couple of best friends. Her friends teased her all the time, saying they were just “friends with benefits,” and she supposed she could see where they were coming from. But they weren’t there at night on the rare times she saw him, when he was holding her. Or when he kissed her forehead or cheek or lips, being as gentle and caring as humanly possible. Or when she jumped on him because she’d been away from him for too long. They just didn’t understand what really went on below the surface.
They loved each other.
was i lost in you and me
to the point i couldn't see
that what we had was dying
But good things don’t last forever. He realized now that he should have seen it, should have known when they started to grow apart. He blamed it on the distance, but he knew that wasn’t the real problem. He blamed himself for not trying hard enough, but he knew he wasn’t entirely at fault. He wasn’t really sure whose fault it was, or what the problem had been in the end. He was so angry with himself for letting her go. He still loved her, and he was pretty sure she still loved him.
now it's all that i can do
to see photographs of you
and stop myself from crying
“I can’t come over tonight, Clay, I’ve got a ton of work to do,” she told him over the phone.
He sighed. “It’s ok. I’ll watch a movie or something,” he assured her, trying not to make her feel guilty. This was the fourth time she’d cancelled in two weeks. And he wasn’t sure when he’d have a chance to see her again. “I’ll miss you, but I completely understand. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
“What? Oh, yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” she said, hanging up.
“I love you too,” he said to the dial tone, looking at the receiver before putting it back in the cradle. He sighed again. She’d been really distant lately, and distracted, but he chalked it up to pressure from work. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him, it was that she was just too darned busy. Like he was most of the time. He certainly didn’t blame her; if anyone knew what it was like to be busy with work, it was him.
But he still missed seeing her all the time, and bantering and teasing each other like they used to. And holding her and kissing her. That was what he missed the most.
Heaving one last sigh, he got up and popped in Harry Potter, pretending that maybe, if he thought hard enough, she’d show up at the door to watch with him.
i should learn to live without your love
got so many memories
but it's not enough
Everything in the house reminded him of her. She’d left her mark on everything. He knew that in order to completely erase her he’d probably have to sell the house. And everything in it. It wasn’t like he couldn’t. He just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to forget about her, but he wanted her back. He still didn’t quite know what had happened between them to make her leave – whether it was him or her or something completely separate. All he knew was that he would never be able to find it again. He felt empty and dead and completely unlike himself. And it had been a month and a half. A month and a half without her and he still felt like his heart was hanging out to dry, torn in two.
i feel helpless and, oh, so all alone
like i never felt before
He stood in the front hall, watching her walk down the stairs. She carried a single bag thrown over her shoulder. It contained everything she’d left at his house over the past year and a half. He wasn’t sure what he thought about this, but he sort of half figured she just need the items in the bag.
He smiled at her, barely noticing how weak her smile was. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asked.
She put the bag on the floor and hugged him. “I just need you to know that I love you,” she said.
They embraced for a good five or six minutes, and he never felt the tears fall onto his shirt.
She pulled away and looked at him sadly. “I have to go,” she said, picking up the bag once again and opening the door. “Goodbye,” she said, stepping outside and allowing the door to close behind her.
He watched her get into her car and drive away, never thinking anything of it.
She never came back.
you made me feel alive
but i don't remember what it's like anymore
He felt like such a fool. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to them. He still held out hope that maybe she would appear after having discovered that they were meant to be together. But with every passing day, the hope of that faded a little bit more. Eventually he knew it would disappear altogether.
He felt like a shell of himself. He knew it was noticeable, as people were constantly asking him if he was alright. He went through the motions of his life as though nothing had changed, but it was obvious to everyone who knew him that he was running on auto-pilot and that his thoughts were anything but on the task at hand.
His new single hit a little too close to home. Usually he didn’t have much of a problem recording it rather quickly, but every time he sang “Solitaire” he couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself. He’d gotten choked up more than once. The first time he’d tried, he’d broken down and had had to collect himself and stop crying in a room by himself for almost twenty minutes.
He was a mess. Pacing around his house, he simply didn’t know what to do. He thought about tracking her down, but he thought that might seem a bit too stalker-like and could drive her further away. That was the last thing he wanted. He stopped pacing and lay down in the middle of his living room carpet. Maybe if he got one more good cry out he could move on.
He lay there for fifteen minutes, tears streaming down his face and creating a rather head-shaped wet spot on the carpet.
The doorbell rang. He went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and wipe away the last of his tears before heading to the front door.
When he opened the door, he couldn’t move or think or speak.
There she was.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
without you
where do i belong
without you
how can i go on
and no love but yours will ever do
tell me how am i supposed to live my life
without you