𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝙷𝙴𝚁࿐ ྂ ᴊᴇꜰꜰ ʙᴜᴄᴋʟᴇʏ

ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛᴇᴇɴ

POLLY STARED AT HERSELF IN THE MIRROR,

eyes appearing even more blue with the contrast of red that tinged the corners from the few tears she had cried prior.

She had made a decision, one she thought would've been much harder.

She was gonna tell Jeff, tell him she couldn't be with him.

Polly couldn't wait for him to knock on her door everyday, just for it to never come.

She was making it easier, she knew she wasn't going to date anyone else when Jeff was back in the west coast- probably not even look at another. It somehow just made the idea of him leaving easier.

The only communication they would have would be phone calls and letters, it made sense.

It felt as if the moment she stepped out from her building, she had appeared in Jeff's apartment, before him and staring into the eyes she loved so dearly.

He welcomed her unexpected visit and they sat on the sofa, Polly pecking his lips quickly.

"Hi," she said, messing discreetly with the worn sleeves of her sweater- but he noticed.

"Hi Polly," he took her hand absentmindedly.

"I wanted to see you." She shrugged, knowing he'd ask why she had shown up, as he always did although it was a common occurrence.

"I wanted to see you too."

"You did?"

"When do I not?" He asked almost bashfully.

Polly felt her heart sink, even more than it had before with his remark.

"You leave in a few days."

"I do," he looked away, his eyes saddening.

"I don't want to be selfish." He looked at her, confused and she continued, "I don't want to keep you with me while you're away."

"Okay," Jeff replied, confused.

"It's also selfish because I think I'd feel better."

"Feel better because?"

"If we broke up, I wouldn't feel like a burden to you, like the distance was too much..."

Jeff looked at her as she finished the beginning of a ramble, not as confused but feeling like he wanted to sink into the cushions of the sofa and disappear while Polly lamented all the reasons to break up.

"You aren't a burden to me. And I know it's at least a few months, but I don't mind the wait," he paused, waiting for her response. "I understand though. Where you're coming from." His voice became quiet as she averted his gaze.

"You aren't mad?"

"Of course I am. But I know you've made up your mind." His voice was still quiet, and he realized the grip on her hand had strengthened, yet she still held it.

"How do you know that?"

Jeff shrugged slightly, "I just know."

"I'm gonna miss you so fucking much."

"You know I love you." He kissed Pollys cheek and let her hand go.

As she walked back to her apartment, alone because she had rejected Jeff's offer to walk her home, she forgot the feeling of the last kiss he had placed on her cheek, and felt tears begin to well up in her eyes.

Polly had never felt so stupid, so in love, and so lost.

But she knew she had made her mistake, and hoped when the time came that Jeff left she'd at least feel a fraction better than she would if she still called herself his.

All that circled through Pollys mind was his voice, his touch, his kisses, his beautiful tears, and the way he loved her.

There seemed to be some sort of quiet agreement between the two lovers.

They wouldn't date anyone else, they'd simply wait for when Jeff returned, and hopefully resume their relationship when the time was right.

To Jeff, none of it made sense, but he knew Polly was complicated, and that there was no reason to fight or reason. It was clear she loved him, and that was enough to ease his troubled mind.

Polly purchased a bottle of whisky, an odd drink choice for her, but she sought the nostalgia it brought of past years.

Sneaking little sips of her fathers jack daniels and meeting guys sixteen-year-old Polly Maureen was sure were the one.

But none of them suited her. She hadn't loved any of them. She hadn't ever had to think twice about breaking up with one of those boys.

Jeff was different, and in the moment as she sat on a bench outside the liquor store, she realized he was the only person she'd ever truly loved.

She also realized he was the only person she ever wanted to love.

So she took a shot and continued on her walk home, cheeks stained with tears and mind deep in self pity.

Polly walked up the staircase sluggishly and fell into bed, pulling the blankets over her head and taking another shot, deciding on taking a midday nap instead of getting wasted and crying her eyes dry.

Meanwhile, Jeff was still sat on the sofa, this time guitar in hand and absentmindedly playing while he stared at the door to his right, hoping Polly would knock on it, but somewhere in his crowded mind, something told him she wouldn't. That he wouldn't see her for a while.

The fact brought a million emotions to him at once, which made him feel numb, something he hadn't felt since before meeting Polly. He realized she made him whole.

It's only a few months, Jeff thought.

But who knew what a few months could bring. They'd be okay.

But she hadn't came back yet.
Polly hadn't knocked on his door and kissed his lips one more time and told him that everything would be okay.

Maybe it didn't need to be said. Or maybe it was over.

But it couldn't be over, they both knew that.

Jeff's thoughts shifted over from his troubles and back to his guitar, his normal stressors concerning music replacing the fear of losing Polly.

He remembered he had to finish his packing for the fast coming flight to California, so he left his guitar and went to his room, shoving clothes and random objects into his duffel.

The room Jeff hadn't ever really been able to make his own was now bare, his objects stuffed away into a duffel and a few boxes he'd leave behind.

He sat on the edge of his bed and kicked off his boots, his eyes catching a shine from the box he used as his bedside table.

Jeff picked up the glossy photos, photos he realized were taken from Polly's camera.

There were five there, the last was him alone, a picture he thought he looked terrible in.

He had a wide smile and you could see his crooked teeth, something Jeff had hated for as long as he'd remembered. He thought his hair looked greasy and could point out a million other flaws.

But Polly had assured him none of his insecurities were worthy of worry. She had told him over and over that his smile was her favorite, that his hair fell perfectly.

The one thing he remembered when Polly had given him the photo, was how happy she had said he looked, and that she wanted him to have it.

Despite herself not being in the photo, Polly was the one making him smile. And that was all that mattered, she made him happy.