"Because. You didn't say goodbye."

He left her standing there. He knew that rendered his previous actions pointless. It doesn't matter if he chases her around town, tells her he loves her, if he justs leaves, like he always does. But he couldn't stay there, looking at her, not knowing what she'd say or do. He hadn't cared about anything in so long, and she'd come and changed that. He felt as f his life depended on her answer, and he hated it. He choked up and left before he could make a bigger fool out of himself.

"What do you have to say to me?"

You knew me why didn't you tell me you loved me I hate him why couldn't you trust me like you trusted him I knew the moment I saw you I'm sorry I lied. I stayed up nights thinking about what I should say and then I'd call you and lose my voice the second I'd hear you say hello. I thought of a million "what ifs". I read The Fountainhead. You made Stars Hollow bearable. I loved your Chilton skirt. I felt betrayed that you'd believe Dean over me anyday. I felt the same when I found out Luke didn't trust me enough to tell me my father showed up. I wrote letters to you in my head and would never write them down. I tried not to think of this foolish fantasy that showed up, that I'd go to community college in California and go back to Stars Hollow and be okay and tell you everything and we'd make things right. That I'd say everything. And you'd listen and you'd understand and you'd tell me things, too. And we'd kiss and watch a movie and just go to sleep. The stupiest thing is , I want my throught to hurt from all the talking we'd do. Just in case it can make my heart lighter.

"I love you."

Her voice was so full of anger. A year went by. He tried to imagine all that she did. Remembered how completly different their lives were. A year at Yale, a year at her life, and why should she even stil care about him? So he turned around and left her standing there.

"I can't go to the prom."

She was gripping her jaw. He knew she was trying not to say, "It's all right." Because it wasn't. "This is my stop," she said, instead. "Will you call me?" There it was, an offering. We'll talk things out, we'll fix things, I care. Jess almost broke, almost told her everything. But it was her stop. And it was too late. "Yeah. I'll call you."

"I think. . .I think I may have loved you, but I just need to let it go."

California wasn't all that different. Same stupid, fake people. And there was no Rory. There was only his father, and a chance to make things right. So maybe he tried. But maybe it didn't matter much at all. No matter how many changes he made in his life and how he felt he'd improved, she was still lightyears ahead of him, and he was still trailing behind, chasing after her, trying to catch up. "Where'd you learn to run like that?" Well, she had a life training in that. Learning to run forward in life. And he was just past crawling, just learning to walk. He was holding her down. She could save him, but maybe he could drown her. And it scared him just how much he'd rather drown with her than stay afloat. So he did the next best thing. He walked away.

"That word sounds really lame and stupid right now, but there it is. Goodbye."