Patterns of Parting Ways

1 | Ivy

"This isn't fair." And it isn't.

How can I be so in love with him? And James not feel a thing anymore. How can it all go away so quick and easy for him?

He breaks the distance between us and wraps his arms around me. At first my arms are limp and stay by my side. I can't decide if this close proximity is a good idea, but I place my hands loosely around James' waist, any tighter and I might not let go. "I know. I know." He whispers into my ear and pushes a lock of knotty hair behind my ear.

But he doesn't really know, and a little bit of me hates him for that. James gets to move on. He gets to go on dates and meet prettier and funnier girls. He gets the opportunity to carry on. While I will always be this. Waiting for a call or text. Anything that will give me hope that we haven't ended. I will always be waiting for him.

"I'll always care about you." I wait for the crack in his voice, but it isn't there, how isn't he hurting right now?

"Why did I let myself get involved with you?"

He's silent. Frozen in his own thoughts. James himself doesn't remember why we started. He doesn't remember why we became Ivy and James. "I'm glad you did." He says squeezing my shoulder, "I'm grateful for every minute I spent with you." He rests his head on top of mine and rubs my back in circles.

A little part of me thinks he's lying. He's trying to stop me from hurting, because James is kind. Maybe too kind. "Thank you." I whisper into his shoulder, as a few tears fall from my cheek and dampen his coat.

The alleyway doesn't seem as cold as previously but it's raining now and James notices that I'm shivering slightly. With one hand around my waist, he guides me out of the alleyway and down the street until we come to his house. It's a thin townhouse and from the outside it looks abandoned with a crooked door and frosted windows. Every light is off, and the curtains are drawn. But it has become a place of comfort for me, a place I used to call my second home.

He fiddles with the lock for a moment and then lets me tiptoe inside. I take extreme care when taking the stairs, I don't want to wake his mom and face her disapproval. Anyone and everyone can see how we should have ended a long time ago. But me, I'm still clinging on to the hope that we can somehow make this work. That I can somehow fix how James feels about me.

James takes my left hand and leads me from the corridor to his room. Not much has changed since the last time I was here. There's still old band posters peeling off of his walls, a mountain of unwashed clothes in the corner and a fresh book is still waiting to be read on his bed side cabinet.

James pulls back his bedsheets for me and I take a seat on the edge of the bed. Please just hold me like you used to. I climb beneath the duvet and pull it up until it reaches my neck. James grabs a pillow and blanket from the closet and makes a bed on the floor beside me. And now he's staring at me with those big blue eyes and for a moment I think he's going to move and get in beside me. But he looks hesitant and sadness is etching onto his every feature as a frown knots between his brow. My stomach starts to twist and there's a sharp ache in my chest again "James?"

"Yes?" He blinks at me, and even in the dark, I can still see the freckles brushed perfectly across his nose.

I roll over so my back is facing him. "Goodnight." I whisper pushing my head under the covers.

James sighs as the floor creaks under his weight, "Goodnight Ivy."

***

I wake up before James does, as the sunrise is just about seeping through his navy blue curtains. He looks so peaceful laying on his side, the blanket cocooned around his muscular body and mouth slightly ajar. A few pieces of James' brown hair cover his eyes as he tries to flick the strands away in his sleep. But the dark circles are still resting beneath his eyes, he's still tired.