FOR A WHILE, JONAH FEELS LIKE HE'S FLOATING AROUND IN THE MIDDLE OF SPACE WITH NOWHERE TO GO. Everything takes on a listless glow, and he finds himself graduating at the top of his class and smiling through the pain as his mother snaps celebration pictures. His friends, of course, do their best to distract him and drag him from party to party with concerned glances. And—
He doesn't see all of their text messages and photos (he printed them all out beforehand, anyways); he doesn't think about the way her breath stutters in her sleep every once in a while like she's dreaming of him, and he certainly doesn't remember how much she liked when he had on his usual headbands.
Jonah doesn't wear them anymore.
***
A month passes.
Then two.
He still loves her, because how could he not?
***
The internship at Carter & Company ends with the incoming summer, and Jonah's mind busies itself with minor tasks: helping his mother with grocery shopping, driving Adrian around when he gets drunk, and looking for future schools to apply to.
Within those weeks, he sees Eloise Park three times, and they're all on accident.
The first had been when he stopped by Sue's Corner for a quick meal and saw the curls he'd been so familiar with linger outside the entrance, hand stretched out as if to pull the door and enter. But when she retracted her fingers, Jonah's eyes had watered precariously as his mind flashed back to their first date. And he figures out that the hurting never stops—that it never ceases—because all he sees when he looks at her are two stars that were never destined to meet. Clinging to music, to poetry, to distractions hadn't helped to—to get over here, and Jonah had closed his eyes and begged himself to stay put. So he did.
Four weeks ago, he filed another complaint about Jayden Bradshaw (nothing was put into effect), and when he walked out of the office, she'd been sitting on an old picnic blanket on the campus lawn, smile soft but gaze so, so distant. Parker had been sprawled out next to her, and Jonah, with four textbooks in hand, felt his emotions peak before he literally had to hide behind a building to calm his composure. Because she still looked the same, and—and she shouldn't have, because both of them must've felt like they were breathing without any oxygen and simply existing but not truly living. Right? It broke him, remade him, and shattered him over and over, but... but he realized that he'd come to terms with their relationship.
Falling in love with her was a breath of fresh air: exhilarating, wild, and carefree. And maybe—just maybe—he was so blinded by it that he couldn't see her falling apart with his very own eyes. Maybe he should've noticed. Maybe he should've fucking said something.
He hates how breakups have such a negative connotation swirling around the syllables like it's toxic or shameful—hates it so much he can almost feel the bile rising in his throat. But Jonah knows that he has to be his own first before he can become someone's, and maybe it's not so terrible.
But in the middle of the night, he would still wake up feeling lonely.
I still want you.
And right now, as Jonah sees her sleeping in the library with her head tilted downwards, he feels a rush of such strong nostalgia that it punches him roughly in the stomach, heart a nervous wreck and eyes widening just a bit. Your neck will hurt tomorrow, baboya, he wants to whisper. Because Ellie looks just as beautiful as he remembers, and—and the dark circles underneath her eyes are gone; if he stares hard enough, he can sense some sort of liquid peace settled on her lash line, full of soft intentions and healing bandages.
Dressed in his usual baggy clothes, Jonah hides behind the wooden shelf and takes in a shaky breath, body trembling even now—even after she left him, even after they broke up, even after he's still so in love that everyone else dims in comparison. He hopes that the broken look shimmering in her irises disappears after the scars heal, and he hopes—
He hopes that maybe one day, she'll let herself be vulnerable again. Even if it isn't with him.
One last time, Jonah thinks, eyes glistening. Let me look at you one last time.
He exhales—
And lets go.
Goodbye.
Please don't forget about me.
***
Eloise Park starts a new phase of her life. And even though it's unfamiliar and startling, she gets used to the new environment and begins to start off with something important.
Once the nurse calls her back and confirms that her father is recovering at home, she finally dials his number, fingers shaking the entire time as she lifts the device to her ear.
"I'll talk to you when I'm ready," Eloise whispers, shoulder feeling weak. "But until then, I hope you can change for yourself." A pause. "And—and I hope you can realize that it's not our fault that she left."
When she hangs up, it feels like the universe's weight lifts off of her shoulders, and as Eloise slides her fingers into her pockets to grab the white, rectangular business card, she realizes that she's crying. Because she's tired and she's hungry and she's—she's missing Jonah.
Always.
But like a new dawn tinted with silver, Eloise lingers between the silver lines of glittering love and golden Jupiter, always searching for something she's still unsure of.
Maybe she'll find it.
Someday.
***
Sometimes, when she's on the verge of sleep, Eloise wonders how the fallen angels felt right before they realized their colossal mistake. A twisted epiphany of sorts, she supposed, the burned odor of liquid ozone drying on their shimmering skin as golden wings were ripped brutally from celestial bodies. A honeyed haze of smooth smoke and glazed godhood with the essence of virtue burning, burning, burning. She wonders if the angels laughed as they were thrown down from the tips of heaven, sweet blood coating white bone as corners of sinful mouths turned upwards. A descending light approaching humanity, throats torn open—
And as if the shame combusts from the inside out, they combust. It's a spectacular show, really, or at least in the depths of her imagination. A twisted show of fireworks, except that it's not: it's stars. A never ending taunt, she supposes, to be halfway between the earth and the gates of heaven, lingering forever as a bright light against a backdrop of wild lavender. The angels desperately try to search for any whisper of a touch, any brush of beams, but alas, the stars remain in its spot in the sky. Forever cursed by the maker himself to be still, to stay put, to shine only when commanded.
Fall, sweet girl. Fall, and then fly.
Eloise shifts back in her chair, and she can feel her eyes start to dampen as she thinks about the boy with the beautiful chaotic hair, with a sleepy smile always plastered to a dangerous mouth. She thinks about how his heart felt against skin, how he smelled of ocean water and mystical sunlight. She thinks of dark chocolate crepes and soft touches under her chin, the feel of his sheets on her legs. Her heart aches to the point of insanity, and she takes a deep breath through her nose—just like he taught her.
Dr. Katrina leans back in her ridiculously purple-plush seat, elbows balancing on knees. "And now?" she asks. The frames of her glasses slip down the bridge of her nose. "How do you feel about him now?"
Eloise closes her eyes for a brief moment, hand rubbing her right temple. Her hand trembles a bit as she clasps them in her lap. "I think," she says softly, expression gentle and heart tender, "that Jonah Kim made me realize a lot of things." She pauses and takes a trembling breath, all of those feelings rushing back like a tidal wave, slamming chaotically into her chest. "And he was so convinced that we could work—that we would work—but I didn't want to hold him back, you know?" Eloise swallows thickly, voice breaking. "He might hate me for it—trust me, I hope he does, but the breakup was inevitable."
A tear slips down her cheek.
"He tried to convince me that we were written in the stars. That we were constellations in the sky, but I—I think I was always too far out of reach. That I was falling too fast instead."
Her heart is sobbing in earnest now, the pain impossibly hard to endure, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I love you, Eloise thinks silently, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. I'll love you always, Jonah.
Thank you for loving me back.
***
She breathes out—once, twice, and then three times.
And Eloise Park finally, finally feels at peace.
***
author's note: thank you for reading, loves, and for sticking with me this far to read this story. there's still two epilogues to this story, so it's almost finished! please hit the star and vote.
love always, mads.