Amy closed her laptop. It was a simple action, one she had taken countless times. Tonight , however, was different. Tonight she wasn't just shutting down a piece of equipment. Tonight she was closing a door. She was rebuilding walls she had fought so hard to tear down, and it was tearing her apart.

Truth be told, her whole situation was tearing her apart. She was in love with a man who would likely never be able to give her the relationship she wanted. She deserved more than half of his attention. She needed more than half his attention. He was everything to her. He was the only man, possibly the only person, who ever actually enjoyed her company. That fact alone would have been enough to make her love him, but then she got to know him. Sheldon had brought her into his world, and in his world she had friends and a boyfriend and all the things she had wanted so desperately out of life. She wasn't alone anymore and she had truly believed that could be enough for her. For five years she had clung to that idea, but deep down she knew she wanted more. She wanted him, all of him, but their anniversary date had made it painfully clear he would never be able to give her that much.

Tears poured over her eyelids as the weight of the truth fell fully upon her. She wanted something from him he simply could not give, and she had been a foolish girl to think she could coax it out of him. She folded her knees up to her chest and lay on her sofa letting the tears wash out some of her pain. This had been her life for thirty years before she met Sheldon. A sudden wave of fear swept over her, could she go back to this? Now that she knew what it was like to have people care about her, could she survive going back to the loneliness? Penny and Bernadette and the boys were all Sheldon's friends before she started dating him. They would all still be his friends if she left him. Leaving Sheldon meant she was leaving the group. Was she leaving Sheldon? She loved him desperately, but how much is a person supposed to take? How much is someone be expected to give up for love? At what point does it stop being romantic and just become pathetic? A swell of emotion worked its way up her esophagus and broke over her lips in the form of a silent wail, followed by a myriad of quiet sobs. She knew no good would come of fighting it, so she gave in and white knuckled her way through the fear, the pain and the dread, until exhaustion finally replaced them.

/

Sheldon closed his desk drawer. It was a simple action, one he had taken countless times before. Tonight was different, though. Tonight he wasn't just securing away a plethora of useful odds and ends, like band-aids and super glue. Tonight he was hiding his emotions, stowing them away in a small black box next to a repurposed drill bit he bought last January. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, willing away the gaping void Amy's words had torn into his soul. He had to get it under control or else it might consume him.

Truth be told, no act of will could ever close this wound. He was in love with her. She was everything to him. Perhaps he didn't make it clear to her. Perhaps he seemed preoccupied with other things when he should have been preoccupied with her. How could she expect him to keep his mind on her, when just thinking of her in passing was enough to inspire a horde of hippy-dippy feelings? She was the only woman, probably the only person, who actually enjoyed his company. Now she didn't want his company at all. Perhaps he was over-reacting. All she asked for was time to think. She had given him time last year when he needed to reset. Of course, that reset wasn't specifically about re-evaluating their relationship.

Panic rushed through his veins, squeezing his chest cavity until he found it hard to breathe. This was about him, and only him. He had done something horrible enough in her mind that it could possibly change the way she felt about him. He rose from his desk chair and stumbled toward his bedroom gasping for every strangled breath. He lay down on his bed with pillows under his legs and tried to calm his breathing, but his mind continued to race. Would she actually leave him? Did she want someone else? What was she doing right now? Was she alone? Was she crying? Was she happy? She didn't seem happy. Did she want him to do something? If so, what would that something be? How could he fix this? What if he couldn't fix this? A swell of emotion slammed hard against his Adam's apple. He tried several times to swallow it back down, but it would not be denied. He breathed a slow sigh hoping it would control the uncontrollable. His attempt to hold back failed as a sob jolted through his body and for the first time in his life Sheldon Cooper cried over a girl.

/

Amy rose from the sofa and stared blankly at the door for a moment. She knew it was him from the first knock but as usual she let him finish his ritualistic repetition. What time is it? Is it morning? She glanced at the clock on her oven. 3:53, She could feign sleep. He was knocking lightly enough that he would not have woken her had she been in her bedroom.

"Amy," His voice was barely more than a whisper, " I could see your light on as I walked over from the bus stop."

She sighed heavily. He would have to be dealt with, and she had no idea how she wanted any of this to play out. After a long moment she made her way to the door. She waited another long moment trying to steel herself before opening it just wide enough to see him with out letting him in. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot but his face was as stoic and unrevealing as ever. A pang of empathy gripped her stomach tying it into knots as she realized he had been crying. A sudden urge to hug him rushed over her, but she had learned how to control the urge for human contact over the years, and willed her arms to her sides.

"It's late Sheldon what are you doing here?"

"You've been crying." He stated flatly.

"So have you." She managed to keep her voice equally as flat.

"It's a high pollen day." he muttered, with a dismissive wave. His flailing gaze dropped momentarily, then slowly lifted darting all around her in a tell tale sign of his discomfort.

"You're not allergic to pollen." she watched as he awkwardly searched his surroundings for a moment before bringing his eyes back to hers.

"I'm sorry Amy." His voice was weak and laden with sincerity. She wanted to leap into his arms right then, but she knew the drill. He was saying what he thought she wanted to hear.

"Sorry for what Sheldon?" she prodded. His eyes flitted around her again. It was all the answer she needed, but she let him speak anyway.

"For what ever it is that's upset you." he sounded desperate, but as clueless as ever. She would never be able to express to him how badly she wanted to accept that half-assed apology and put all this time to think stuff behind them. But if she did that she would be no wiser than the fool she was before. So without a word she began to shut the door.

/

" Wait," Sheldon's hand caught the door just before it closed. This was not going according to plan. This is the part where she forgives him, and tells him she loves him for who he is, and invites him in for a hot beverage and a long boring chat about the state of their relationship. Instead here she was rudely attempting to slam the door in his face. He pushed against the unforgiving wood but Amy refused to let him open it back up. She just pushed harder to close it.

"Let go of the door Sheldon." Her voice was harsh and broken. He could no longer see enough of her face to gauge her expression.

"Wait. Amy, please." His own voice cracked in his throat as he begged for her not to shut him out. The pressure from the other side of the door eased, and he pushed it slowly open. She had given up completely. He watched as she made her way back to her sofa and sat on it's softest edge. The edge she had sat on the night she first kissed him. So many times the sight of her sitting on that exact spot had filled his chest to near bursting, with pride and love and all manner limbic anarchy, but right now he felt as broken as she looked. He took a tentative step inside. She made no protest to his presence, and tonight that was all the invitation he required. He entered the room and shut the door behind him, then turned to face her. She hadn't moved. She sat with her hands on her lap and her eyes on the floor, and he had no idea what to do next. He crossed the room and perched himself next to her. He left a perfunctory gap of 18 inches between their closest shoulders, then turned partially so that he could face her. He hated every second of this. Each passing moment of silence twisted his stomach into a quadruple helix.

"Tell me what you want me to do." He couldn't keep the pleading tone out of his voice. "I'll do anything you want."

"There's nothing you can do." Her voice was low but firm. "You can't give me what you don't have."

"If I don't have it then I'll get it." He didn't understand. She was speaking in riddles. She looked at him then. A sad smile softened her features but never quite made it to her lips.

"I love you, Sheldon…"

"I love you too." He interrupted. Clinging to her words the way a drowning man clings to any piece of wreckage he can find. Her face changed then so slightly a less observant man would have missed it. The sadness somehow got sadder and the softness slipped away. An abrupt awareness dawned on Sheldon just before she spoke, like the gut wrenching realization that the flotsam you've been clinging to is the crocodile that's about to devour you.

"I'm not sure that's enough." her words hung heavy between them. How could his love not be enough for her? She was sitting on the softest edge of her sofa the moment she made him want her, and that same edge is where she sat the moment she broke his heart. "I need time to think about what I really want out of life. Can you understand that, Sheldon?" The last sentence she spoke slowly. He heard her clearly enough but all he understood was his love was not enough for her. All his dreams for their future shattered around him. He could almost see the shards of hope littering her floor. An unexpected urge to clean tingled in his finger tips.

"How much time?" the question was moot he was certain but he had to ask.

"I don't know." Her reply was honest and curt and reminiscent of the girl he begrudgingly met in that café five years ago.

"Are we breaking -up?"

/

His voice was so small, so wounded her resolve faltered.

"No." she cooed before she could get her self in check "Maybe." she recovered " I don't know what's going to happen."

"But for now you don't want to continue being my girlfriend?" he couldn't even look at her. She wanted so badly to reach out to him, to make this all go away, but at what cost to her? Could she live with the knowledge that the man she was with would never love her the way she loved him? Could she content herself for the rest of life with the idea that he loved her as much as he could? Or would she just spend her whole life wishing he would have some sort of romantic epiphany and suddenly want nothing more than he wants her? The answer was simple but unsatisfying.

"I don't know." She could tell by the look on his face, he hated that answer. It left nothing but loose ends. He wanted to know where they stood and for the first time in their relationship she couldn't and wouldn't give him what he wanted.

" Alright." he began more detached than she thought either of them could be right now. "Proposal. I give you a hiatus, 45 days. The exact length of time I was gone last summer. In that time, I will initiate no contact. I will avoid Penny's apartment and the forth floor landing on all preordained girl's nights. Should we both be invited to a function or friendly gathering I will decline the invitation unless you are the one inviting me." She softened, whether at his words or his willingness to do as she asked she wasn't sure. All she knew right now was that this was his way of giving her what she was asking of him. "However, I will require that you e-mail me at least once a week to let me know that you're alright. And…" he paused here. His Adam's apple bobbing nervously and his eyes flitting around the room before lighting on hers again "Neither party can terminate the existing relationship nor begin a new relationship with a third party until the hiatus has ended and a state of the relationship summit is held." The last line came out in a bit of a rush, but she understood perfectly, he would give her time to herself if she wanted but he wasn't ready to lose her.

She smiled. It wasn't a big smile, but it was real smile.

"Proposal accepted."