part two

                                    

                                          
three weeks later
                          
SIMON
                          
Something is missing, I think to myself as I stare off tiredly onto the front lawn. Penny would say that I'm being far too dramatic walking all the way to the moat just to get away from my own thoughts-- especially since they just followed me here anyways -- and I agree. I've been helplessly ridiculous for the longest time. I feel so lost in myself. I mean besides from the lack of sleep I've been getting lately, it's not like anything is actually missing, no matter how empty everything feels. Every time I mention it to Penny she looks concerned and encourages me to slow down a bit.
                          
"It's our last year, Simon. It's completely normal to be feeling nostalgic," she had said the last time I mentioned it.
                          
But I don't feel nostalgic at all.
                          
Penny also had an explanation for this: "You're not feeling nostalgic because you're not ready to accept that these are soon to be days of the past."
                          
I suppose Penny is right in the way that she always is: I am having a sort of crisis over the ending of school.
                          
It's just that I'm not really sure what I'll do when I leave, especially now that Agatha and I aren't together anymore, which is an entirely separate mystery.
                          
"What is wrong with me," I groan, dropping my head into my hands to sulk.
                          
Agatha came to me just yesterday and asked to get back together. I thought that she would —she always does— but I was still shocked.
                          
"What?" I said after she asked, my mouth hanging open. Agatha moved her weight to her other leg and tugged on her sleeve awkwardly. "What about everything that you said? You said that was it."
                          
"I know what I said, Simon, but I don't think we do very well apart." I stared at her gobsmacked before it hit me and, suddenly, I was dead angry.
                          
"You mean you don't think I do very well."
                          
"Simon, don't make this something that it's not. I miss you." I shook my head and stepped back decisively.
                          
"Agatha, I don't feel that way about you anymore. I think we're better off as just friends," I had said. I'm not sure why I said it now. Not to say that I didn't mean it —I did— but it was so fast. My answer was there, right there at the tip of my tongue before I even knew it.
                          
"Agatha, I don't feel that way about you anymore. I think we're better off as just friends."
                          
It's not like I had thought of it beforehand or anything. Normally, I would've. Agatha had already broken up with me twice. (At the time I had insisted to myself and anyone who asked that we were merely "taking a break.") (Penny argued otherwise.)
                          
(Penny was right.)
                          
Those times, I sat in class and daydreamed about how she would come back. This time was different though. It was final —I could feel it.
                          
I don't know why I said it. Maybe it was because she was so sure. She said she didn't want me to be her happy ending.
                          
Maybe it was because I realised that I didn't want her to be mine.
                          
"You can't possibly say that, Simon! Look at yourself! You're an absolute wreck! You don't sleep, you don't eat . Just let go of your ego for a moment!"
                          
"I mean what I say, Agatha!" I felt bad for raising my voice at her, but not enough to say so. (Penny says I've been short-circuited lately.)
                          
"Well," she huffed and threw her hands to her sides to show her obvious frustration, "what's got you all twisted up if not our breakup?" I stopped, my tone turning sorrowful.