Well, hello there. Thought I was dead?

To be honest, I totally thought I was but something happened. I felt that this story needed closure and so did I. I'm still receiving comments and pms and just wow. For all of you that have held on, damn I really hope I don't disappoint.

So take this as the eye of hurricane. Because once this passes...I'm not even sure how to describe it. So enjoy!


"I'm going to throw up," I repeated for the fifteenth time that night. My stomach was twisting continuously into tight knots of disbelief and excitement. I still could not fully comprehend the events that had taken place one measly hour ago. I closed my eyes and counted to twenty in hopes of scrounging up at least an ounce of courage then opened to watch the oxygen leave my lungs in tiny dejected puffs.

I was walking alongside Rose and Alice whom of which were talking very animatedly over Ryan's phone call.

"God, this is just so romantic!" Alice chirped as she skipped a few feet ahead and turned around to face us. "I always knew you and Ryan were a pair. I mean, no offense to Edward or anything, but god. Ryan is written in the stars for you, Bella."

Rose snorted and disagreed rather brashly and hugged me closer to her. "Bella, are you okay in that head of yours? It's not too late to call Edward. And ignore her. This is simply for closure, right, Bella?"

I nodded almost imperceptibly and felt a pang in my heart at the mention of Edward's name. I felt guilty for my actions. Any good, loving girlfriend would immediately call their ever loving boyfriend and relay the groundbreaking news of a foreseeable zombie apocalypse, right? It was the only thing I could think of that would cause Ryan to call me; we had discussed this dire possibility at length.

Didn't I want Edward to be there for me in a definite time of need? Wouldn't I want him to share this with me, support me, love me, catch me if this all came crashing down around me like I knew it would?

It stung like hell when I realized that despite the amazing last few months I didn't.

I didn't want him there for me. I didn't want to share this. I didn't want the support, love, and the open arms. None of it.

It killed me to feel this way and I so desperately wanted to know how this feeling was even plausible after years of pining after Edward, but it was here at the forefront of my mind and I basically had a panic attack when Rose suggested that we should call him.

I couldn't explain why I wanted this to be just my moment. My closure. I just knew that whatever is to happen needed to be raw and memorable. I needed to see blood and tears. I wanted to know the truth.

If this was the last night I could justly call Ryan a friend I didn't want to deal with road blocks and I knew that is exactly what Edward would become; a hurdle to jump over or an obstacle to dodge.

So maybe I am walking straight into a boobytrap. Maybe I was insane for dragging Alice and Rose along for a ride that I may very well not survive, but I am a coward. I am spineless and these innocent bystanders have become my lifejackets.

He was written in the stars, after all.


I was selfish. I was fruitless.

Both selfish and fruitless were gentle, gentle words for what I have done; for what I have seemingly morphed into.

I was sick. I was weak. Despicable, even.

I was a walking dick. I smeared hatred all about me and walked around with a permanent defensive stance, and I made damn sure Bella was aware of it each time we were anywhere near one another. Clean air fizzled when we saw each other, turning into diseased infuriation. Not even a shell remained of what we once had. Shared.

Our relationship was no longer the main outlet in my life. The term 'life' had lost its meaning when I let her slip through my fingers like the aloof ass I was.

"The great one that got away…" I whispered to myself in a low wheezing tone.

A bitter smile pulled at my cracked lips and revealed teeth. A long, twisted breath escaped my lungs as the picture of Bella's beautiful face melting into pure bliss swam through my mind. I choked on my own spit and pushed myself out of my measly black rolling chair.

It clashed against the wall pathetically, just like everything else within the past few days.

Warm salty tears coated my cheeks as I mourned the loss of her for the last time.

Tonight would make sure of that. I would make sure of that.

If I was going to destroy everything I may as well do it thoroughly.

"Hey, Ryan, we have ten more minutes until we're up," a phantom voice called out from the hall leading into a bar buzzing with life and merriment.

I emerged from my alcohol induced hazed and staggered to my feet, swaying only slightly from the weight of what I was about to do.

It's almost funny that people say that before death you feel immense pleasure. I wanted to believe that, but all I truly felt was my sanity slipping away inch by agonizing inch.

Alright. Lemme have it.