Younower Imagines

15 | Jonas Bridges

There's something about the way he says her name.

Something about the way his voice shakes when he says: "I don't love her anymore."

The way the word 'her' rolls of his tongue tells his friends otherwise.

"Do you miss her, Jonas?" they ask, his friends. The ones he'll never lie to.

And he'll shake his head. But when he scrolls through his phone and he spots her name in his contacts, there's something in his eyes. Something nostalgic, like all the history between them flashes before his eyes.

"It's just a song," he'll say. But they can see his hands tremble when he hears the chords being played on the guitar.

And when he miss his cue, they know it's not because he forgot the dance moves; it's because something is taking his breath away.
Breaking up wasn't Jonas' decision. But he didn't fight for her either.

That was all she wanted; for him to show that he cared. For him to call after her, screaming and crying and to hold her tight, because he didn't want to let her go.

For Jonas, letting her go was the ultimate sacrifice to make. He knew he would never be good enough.

He'd never be there when she needed him, he'd never be able to put into words how much he loved her. And he knew that there was someone out there, somewhere, that could make her happy.

Someone who could hold her when she was crying, and not be the reason for her tears. But the only way she could find that person was if he'd set her on her way.

So when she told him she couldn't do it anymore, with tears streaming down her face, he fought away the urge to reach out to her. He told her he understood.
It wasn't the response she'd hoped for.

"You're not over her," Mario says to Jonas, regularly. He'll answer that he is. But the way his smile falters tells a different story. And if he is really honest with himself, he knows, deep in his heart, that his friend is right. He'll never get over her.

Because he can't forget the way her eyes focused on the ground when he made her smile, or how her hair fell down when she tried to brush it behind her ear.

He would always remember the way she stomped her foot when she was angry at him, or how she sometimes smiled in her sleep. Her laugh, when she laughed at his stupid jokes, or the warmth of her hand in his.

He knows, already, that no other girl compares. That it will always be her. So sometimes, his finger hovers over the call button. He never presses call; but every time he doesn't, he almost does.

Jonas didn't think he was what she needed, but he didn't know that he was all she wanted. Maybe that was more important. Maybe he should've held on to what made him happy; maybe he should've taken Marios advice.
For her, he'll always be the one she pushed away to easily. But everyone has messed up too, so she'll forgive herself, and she'll learn from it, and move on. He knows that. Because she is stronger than him.

For him, she'll always be the one that got away. No; the one that he let get away. He'll never forgive himself for that. He knows that. Because he's not that strong.
Forgetting is painful, she's learned that. But if she knew how he felt, she'd know that holding on will rip your heart apart in an unfixable way. Holding on leaves scars that will never fade. But Jonas, well, he doesn't have another choice than to learn how to live with that pain, while she recovers from hers. He can't forget, or move on.

Because it'll always be her.