Disclaimer: Nope.not mine.not YET at least!!! MWAHAHAHA.no sadly enough they'll never be mine.they belong to Jonathon, who deserves them because he kicks ass =)

(a/n: ok its short and in a sorta weird format.but that's just how it all spilled out.so PLEASE read and review!)

Routine

You walk through that door, like every other night, you walk past, casually greeting me, getting something to eat. You sit at the table and brood while you consume whatever it is you picked. You walk to the couch, as if you want to talk. You stare at my bandage with a look containing disgust, pity, guilt, fear. You ask me if it hurts today and I say no, it's healing fast. You nod numbly, wondering if I want you to say anything else. You turn and retreat to your room, sad that you've got nothing left to talk about.

You could ask me how I feel. You could ask my why, what made me do it. You could ask me if there's anything you can do to help, you could ask me if I'll try it again.

Instead you shut your door, and you play. Ever since I did it, you've been playing your old stuff, April's stuff. I know you play it so loud because you want me to hear the lyrics, the pain. You play to try and save me, because whatever you can't bring yourself to say, you can sing. You don't know how to help me, but you want to, either because you don't want to hurt like that again, or because you care about me. Either way, you play, and you pray that I'm hearing, and listening, and understanding. And I am.

You don't ask how I feel because you know the answer, and you're sorry. You don't ask what made me do it because you know the answer, and you're guilty. You don't ask if there's anything you can do to help because you know the answer, and you're sad. You don't ask if I'd do it again because you know the answer, and you're scared.

So day after day you follow routine, and day after day I wait for you to break routine, and soon enough you'll have to, because things won't be the same.

You'll walk through that door, like every other night, but I wont be here to casually greet. And you'll brood, and then you'll play, and you'll pray, but you'll be too late, and you'll wish you had asked, and I'll wish I had waited a little bit longer.