I hate nights like this.

You know, those nights where you are just in one of those ruts where you think too much. About a whole bunch of stupid shit. Reminiscing, mostly. Dwelling on the past is one of my best qualities, I'd think. I do it a fuck ton, at least.

And, right now, its Antonio that I'm thinking about.

Let's be honest, its always been Antonio. It has been, probably always will be. Its hard knowing that we really never will be. And I can just think back on the nights when we would talk about our future together, as if we knew we would last that long. It would have been nice if it lasted forever, but my luck is horrible, and I'm a piece of shit. So, it ended like I end everything. With screaming and yelling and denial and the kind of things that people look back on and shudder in just the sheer embarrassment and disgust.

That's besides the point.

I really just want to focus on the good things.

I remember laying on the roof of Nonno's apartment, and just talking to Antonio about dumb things. Music, movies, food. What we normally spoke about. And then, it just slips out.

"Antonio, are we really going to work out?"

Of course, I know its a no. Now, at least. I wish I could have told myself that. It would have saved a lot of heartache.

He shrugged, and gave me that shit eating grin of his. He looked up into the night sky,"Its all up in the stars, Lovino. Time will tell."

Time did tell. Things fell apart. So much.

I don't know where Antonio is. He probably moved back to Nebraska, for the farm. Or maybe he's still in the city. I wish I knew. But after a while, he just packed up and left. I haven't heard from him in almost two years.

Its miserable.

Normally I can get over it. Most nights I'm out, drinking myself shitless. Bar lights are my sun, pretty college girls my oxygen. I get by. I can forget Antonio, most of the time.

Some nights, I lock myself in my room. I cry about it a lot. Watch shitty movies and eat greasy food and think about Antonio and cry. Nonno stays out of it, but sometimes when Feliciano is home he'll come in and hug me and tell me its okay. Even though it isn't. But its nice to know that at least someone cares.

But then Feliciano leaves, like everyone does, and I'm alone again. Like always.

Some parts aren't that bad, though. I work at a restaurant, the one Francis works at. Manages, now. The family, neighbors, and other people (Friends? If they can be called that.) say they're glad I've found something to do with my life. I'm good at cooking, my job is tolerable. I'm saving up money so I can go to a good college. But it isn't what I want. Not by a long shot.

I want Antonio.

But there was a fall out, I can never have him again. And in the after glow from a girl I met at a bar down the street, there is nothing I want more than to have her arms be Antonio's.

Look at me, getting poetic.

Honestly though, I had everything when I had Antonio. He was everything. Nothing else mattered, except his arms around me, his soft kisses, the sound of his voice. I didn't need anything else.

I wish I could speak to him at least one more time.

Tell him I'm sorry.

For everything, I guess.

But, he's deleted his social networking accounts. Changed his phone number. I would never call his house back in Nebraska, never. I know when to stay away when someone wants me to. I have plenty of practice with that, staying away.

And I remember.

"Its all up in the stars."

He was always into dumb fate stuff like that. Things were predestined, we couldn't stop them. I wish I could stop them.

I think that kind of thing is bullshit. You choose what you do. I chose to be myself, and he chose to leave. Simple as that.

I look okay on the outside. Go to work. Come home, then go out for the night. Like any other guy my age. But I can feel myself fading away. I know its really fucking stupid to be like his after a breakup, but, I don't know. I loved him, I guess. I love him.

I wonder if he thinks about me. Maybe he thinks about my lips, my voice, my touch. Probably not. I don't know if I would want him to. I'm a piece of shit, I don't want him to dwell on me. Wouldn't want him to come back for me. I don't really deserve to be saved from this rut I'm in. This is probably just God's way of punishing me for being such a dick.

I think I had this delusion that he would never leave. He would always love me. Kind of really fucking stupid if I think about it. At first I couldn't believe that he had done it. I remember going to sleep that night, and thinking that it was probably all a bad dream. He would never do that to me. I would wake up from the nightmare, and come back into my content life. It kind of was like a dream. It was so great.

But that dream never came true. Never.

I guess I was holding onto the stars too.

Better off without them.

Wishing, dreaming, hoping for them to turn out in my favor.

They never did.

Never did, I think, on my way to the bar.

The words linger on my mind as I take the first sip of my cheap beer.

No one decides what happens to you, except for yourself.

I chat up a few girls, a few guys. Most of them know me, and I know a couple would be good to sleep with me tonight. Which is always nice.

That's when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn away from a girl I was talking to. I'm pretty sure her name is Amelia, but that's beside the point.

I turn around. "Sorry, asshole, but I think you can see that I'm in the middle of a conversation right now. Kindly fuck off."

Then I see who it was.

I almost drop my beer glass.

"Hi, Lovi!"

•••••

A/N: sorry about the long wait for the update (^o*)/

but hey its here now!

five bucks if you can figure out what song i was listening to during this chapter haha

but, back to the point, this is where im ending this fic

im gomen but ive lost almost all my inspiration for this!

i hope you've enjoyed this fic, and hope you stick around for more!

it would be super cool if you left a review!

thanks for reading :-)