Someday, Ace [Rory & Logan]

2.Nothing

[Rory P.O.V.]

Two weeks. It has been two weeks since my heart shattered into a million pieces, at my own hand at that.

Why was it all or nothing? Why couldn't we just stay together till I was ready? He knew I had big plans. I don't want to get married right out of college. I want to make a name for myself on my own, not with his backing. He knew what I wanted to do.

I am angry....and hurt.....and just downright depressed. I am stuck on this stupid campaign bus God knows where when all I want is to be with him.

I can't even say his name, it hurts too much. And what makes this worse is the fact that he hasn't called. He has cut me out of his life as if I was nothing. Maybe I was nothing to him? Staring out the bus window into the rain is doing nothing to help either, it just makes me feel like I'm in an Adele music video.

Every day it gets harder and harder to not call him. I just want to know how he is, where he is, what he has been doing....but I can't. We've had fights before and even broken up but it has never been like this. At least then I could still function in my life, now in lucky if I remember to put on underwear or matching shoes.

What makes all of this so much worse is that I have no one to talk to about all of this. My mom would tell me to quit pining after him especially since I'm the one who said no and live my life for me, not a boy. My grandmother would be appalled at how I turned down a Huntzberger, I don't think she will ever forgive me for "embarrassing" her. Paris would change the subject to med school as quickly as possible which would be fine because she doesn't do the whole comforting thing. Last but not least, Lane has two new babies to take care of. And I have no one.

He is the only one I want to talk to. Every funny story I hear, he is who I want to share it with first. Every crazy thing that happens on this campaign trail like how one of the other journalists on this bus fell asleep so others kept tossing marshmallows into his mouth until he woke up a bit ago, my hand stops over his number to tell him. Every time I shed more tears, like I'm doing now, I want to call him and make him come to comfort me but I can't since these tears are for him and the future I threw in the dirt.

I quickly wipe away the tears with the sleeve of my hoodie. It still has the faintest smell of him. It was one of his that I swiped during one of my stays at his apartment in New York. I don't really know why I'm even wearing it. You would think it would be a painful reminder but instead it's  comforting. It's like a subtle reminder to hold out for even the smallest shred of hope for us even when the outlook is as dreary as the rain pelting down on this horrid bus.