A week ago he left. He shouldered his backpack, murmured a barely audible ‘be back’, and exited out the door. It wasn’t anything shocking. He had known for weeks that he’d be going away – even had the courtesy to mention it so that his absence wouldn’t come as a surprise. Though even with that he knew this goodbye would be different. He never explained that part. He couldn’t. Not to her.
I won’t pick up the phone // I’ve said all there is to say // Gotta be strong because it’s wrong for me to stay
It wasn’t long before the phone calls and text messages started. He knew they would. ‘Hi! Hope you’re okay!’ ‘Take care of yourself.’ ‘Be safe! See you when you return.’ Soon the messages got further apart. He read every one of them but he never responded. Every time his phone buzzed and he saw that it was her he sent out a sent plea that maybe this time, this time, she would actually forget about him. He said all he had to say before he left. He spent weeks preparing her for the loss that was to come in his absence. It was all a mass of beautifully crafted excuses that he hoped solidified to one thing: that he wouldn’t come back.
I’ve made all the perfect turn of lies // And I’ve sugar coated my disguise // But I can’t cover this up with sweet goodbyes, no // There’s only beautiful excuses in my eyes . . .
The only things he had with him were what he could fit in his bag: enough clothes for a few days. He sat down and pulled his book from his bag and opened it to one of the letters she had given him. It was years old and worn from all the times he had read it. In it, she said she would never stop believing in him, and would always be waiting for when he came back.
Tell me what the use is // Trying to find a way to come back home // How can we correct this if we’re disconnected? // I don’t know, I don’t know . . .
They had such history together. She had pulled him back from the edge so many times he had started to call her his Angel. He was the Devil but she didn’t care. Everyone knows that Angels and Devils can’t mix. In so many ways over the years he told her that he loved her even though he never used those exact words. Would she love him now that he’s gone?
What makes an angel fall in love? // What makes a good man turn and run? // How do you know if she’s the one?
He sighed and put the note and the book away. It didn’t matter how far he went, he’d always remember her but he could never go back. All he had were beautiful excuses.
{inspired from “Beautiful Excuses” by Rixton}
Wearing:
Shirt: etham – Tommy Shirt – @ *PocketShop*
Pant: {COLD-ASH} Mens HOLLOWAY Ripped Jeans (Vintage Blue-Single)
Beard: (( Mister Razzor )) Facial Hair Raphael @ Men Only Hunt
Sunglasses: Ohemo – Bjorn sunglasses
Pose from : K&S – // She is ok // Bento poses @ *PocketShop*
Taken on location at Arranmore.
