My heart is paralyzed, My head was oversized. I'll take the high road like I should. You said it's meant to be... That it's not you, it's me. You're leaving now for my own good...

Shawn bit his lip, watching as Angela popping hugs from person to person. Tears decorated everyone's eyes. Shawn sat on the opposite end of the room from her, on the arm of a couch. He folded his hands in his lap, eyes cautiously watching her like... she was a deer. One false move, and he could scare her away. Sure, she was already leaving, but... he didn't want to do something wrong and ruin their relationship, even if they weren't gonna see each other for a year.

Finally, the dark-skinned girl approached Shawn. He stood up and looked straight ahead to meet her eyes. A reason he always liked her was because of her height. Angela was never taller than him, nor was she too much shorter. They were always about the same height.

She offered a feeble, teary-eyed smile. Shawn tried to return the gesture, but he had basically lost all feeling and was completely numb. Was he smiling? He could only hope.

Don't leave, there's still time. Angie, stay here with me. I want to be with you. I NEED to be with you. Please, please don't leave... Shawn opened his mouth to let the words flow, let her know his real thoughts, but he couldn't.

I hate your dad. The college boy was lost in his thoughts. He watched Angie's perfect lips move, her perfect eyes sparkle, and her perfect face move- When will I see your perfection again?- but he heard nothing other than his own mind. I hate what he's doing to us. Angela paused, looking as if she was biting back a sob.

Shawn found his hand going up to his girlfriend's cheek, gently wiping tears from her face. She closed her eyes for a minute and then continued speaking. Or, as Shawn perceived it, moving her mouth. You can tell him you don't want to go! Don't you love me?

The cocoa-skinned girl continuously spoke and spoke, not stopping. She could sure talk a lot. Shawn liked that, too. She could keep up when he was talkative, and not just listen. Are we even gonna talk anymore? He thought he heard her say they would talk every day- or was that him- but everybody knew how hard long-distance relationships could and would be.

His vision went black. Only a moment later did the boy realize that it was because he shut his eyes to fight tears and block the situation. However, he quickly forced them open again. Even for that one second without Angela, Shawn's heart started pounding. He felt lost and alone. What just happened?

The young man interrupted his girlfriend's lip movements. He had no clue what she was saying, but he had to but in right then. He needed to say it before his thoughts told him otherwise.

"Never say goodbye," he choked. "Never, ever," he repeated, too quiet for her to hear. There was so much more he wanted to say, but couldn't put it into words. In those three he said, Shawn was trying to tell Angie that they didn't have to say goodbye, because she could stay with him forever. She didn't have to leave. He would love her forever.

Angela didn't seem to get it. She said three very famous words in response. "I love you."

They hugged, and Shawn watched as Angie walked out the glass door for the last time. He stood there for a moment, just waiting for it to be like a scene from a movie, where she came dashing back in, exclaiming that she could never leave 'd hug, kiss, and be together for eternity.

Make it like a movie, make it like a movie... Come on Angie, let this be a movie. He had his eyes fixated on the door, mouth open slightly. In his moment of hope, Shawn forgot all aspects of himself: swallowing, even breathing. His face began to redden and his tongue became dry. Hurry up, Angela Moore. Don't make me wait. Don't make us wait.

Someone touching him snapped Shawn back to reality. He drew in a silent, sharp breath and swallowed in surprise. He didn't budge, though. Behind him was the voice of the hand on his shoulder: his best friend, Cory Matthews.

"Shawn, don't freak out."

Everything was just a blur from there. Angela's not coming back. Shawn remembered saying something, then soon found himself in his apartment. He sat on his bed, the lights off.

Angie, why didn't you come back?

The college boy smacked his head into his hands, slouched over. There was knocking at the door, but he stayed where he was.

"Go away," he'd murmur. The person on the other side of the door didn't hear him. The simply kept shouting: "Shawn, it's Cory," or "Shawn, it's Topanga," or "Shawn, open up!" None of them had Angela's voice.

Soon enough, the shouts from the door weren't audible to Shawn. That was because he was either sobbing or Writing stuff down in his poetry book.

No matter what, Shawn couldn't think he had a good poem. He screamed, ripping out page after page every time he tried to write something, balled it up, and threw it across the room.

Nothing seemed right without Angela.

You need to stay. You can't leave.

You promised.