Your name is Dave Strider, and this is The Second time in your life that you're actually crying. And It's not like those; shed like five tears and you're fine. No this is serious shit. You're face is in your hands. And you're shaking like a god damn leaf, and you're practically shrieking in fear (Silently inside). Everything was perfect. Everything was the way it was supposed to be. The way it was meant to be. You, Dave Strider, and your boyfriend of 5 years, John Egbert, were madly in love. So god damn in love in. Like love doesn't even begin to describe what you were feeling for each other. You both manage to go deeper, beyond that word. But you guess it doesn't matter, to John anyways.

There was no "its over", no "Dave, we need to talk". Not jack shit. Actually it didn't really ever end you guess. But from the looks of things you're pretty sure it is. You're shaking your head as John sits in front of you, propped on up on a hospital bed, looking dazed and utterly confused. Asking who you are, and where he is, and who he is. And just asking all the wrong things.

"Hey, are you okay man?" He reaches out and places his hand on your shoulder. Your eyes are burning now as you peel your hands from your face to give him the most pathetic look you have ever given someone. It wasn't like you to show this side of you. Only bro saw you like this once; when you lost your first strife with him. But this is different. Everything is different now.

You look at his face, his mouth agape showing the overbite that spilled out so perfectly between those lips. His giant blue eyes searching your face, and then honing in on your eyes. His brows knitted up together in a concerned and surprised position above those pools of blue. Probably wondering who you are, why your eyes are this devil-like ugly red shade, and why you're here crying in front of him like you just lost your best friend, lover, and the most important thing in your life.

Your lips press together to make a fine line. At this moment you're trying to figure out if you're even able to respond calmly to his question. You settle with just shaking you head 'no.' and plastering your face back into your hands. This goes on for an hour. He's asking you all these questions, over and over again. Pleading with you just for a sliver of information. You can tell he's getting irritated with you.

"Well, you stop fucking crying. I'm sorry for whatever's happened to you. But I need to know why I'm here, and who I am." He hisses at you, impatient now.

You don't even look up from the current position you are in. you just slide your hands up on top of your head nodding your head understanding what he wants.

"John Egbert."

"Excuse you?"

"No, that's your name; John Egbert. You're 26 years old, and you live in Dallas, Texas with me-" You take in a shaky breath "Dave Strider, Your boyfriend. Of five years."

He stares at you puzzled by what you just announced. You don't hear a "oh yeah! Hah!" or even a confirmation that the information just related to him was correct.

You lift your head up, to see what he's thinking. You've studied his body like no one else has ever given the chance to. You know what every little tremor and shuffle that he made meant. And from what you can see; he's shocked, even terrified and then his face contorts to a sad and scared expression

"I- I'm sorry but, I have- I don't even know who you are."

Your heart sinks, a lump in your throat forms, and you start coughing as your eyes begin to water with disappointment and regret. Your eyes are drilling into him now, begging for a sign that your John is still in there still there with same amount of love you still have for him and will always have. But after a few minutes of silence and awkward staring it becomes undeniable that this is it; he's gone. And you tried so god damn hard to keep this relationship from ending, and for the longest time, you didn't think it would never end... But that was cut short that evening.