the boys i've loved and the end of the world

the boys i've loved and the end of the world #3

"do you think it'll be quick or slow?" i ask him. we are sitting on a bench, separate sides, but it is comfortable.

"i'm not sure. do you think it'll hurt?" he responds, looking at me with eyes that have never been anything but kind.

"i'm sorry if i ever hurt you," i blurt out, because i feel like i need to say it.

"you didn't break my heart," he says honestly, "we fell apart in a way that didn't let you."

"i wouldn't have even if i'd had the chance." there is a pause, and the trees cast shadows over us. "you taught me how to love myself, i hope you know that."

he smiles. "i didn't teach you anything. you learned how to on your own."

"it was because of you, though." i pause, then ask, "do you tell her that you love her every chance you get?"

"of course." he fumbles with his hands. "there's only so many chances left to say it, anyways."

we sit together, and i tuck my knees into my chest and rest my chin on them. he watches the sky, frowning, and i want to say that he is too good to be wiped out by a solar flare, but i don't.

instead i say, "i'm so fucking scared."

he reaches over and rests his hand on my shoulder. "me too."

"i learned from you that love doesn't always have to end nasty. sometimes, it just stops."

he nods, agreeing, and squeezes my shoulder once.

"maybe that'll be how the world ends," he suggests, "it won't end terribly. it'll just stop."

-c.h.