What is your idea of the perfect life?

The clock is ticking and the raspy sounds of pencils hitting desks are being repeatedly echoed throughout the class. It's her midterm and she's confused what the question is asking. It's simple, but is this a trick? She could describe the perfect life in a book's length. This was too easy. Nonetheless, she begins to write.

Her answer is obvious and her text lacks logic.

She wants to marry someone she has a deep affection for. She wants a lot of kids. It doesn't matter how much, just as long as it is more than one because she wants a huge family in which they'll live in a small house with a picket fence and green lawn. She wants a career in which she'll be independent. And she wants to wake up each morning feeling happy to be alive. Yet, she can't stop thinking about Eli when writing this, and she believes that it's a good thing.

She then finishes in her essay: What a wonderful life it would be if any desire would be fulfilled.

When she walks up to hand in her paper, she realizes that she's late. She rushes out the door and runs as if her life depends on it.

Clare reaches her destination and sees him sitting by a bench with his hands clasped together.

"You wanted to talk?"

She's clutching her messenger bag with one arm and using the other to fidget with the hem of her shirt. He looks serious and this does not surprise Clare. Eli is a serious guy with serious intentions.

That's one thing she loves about him.

"Yeah,"

He sighs. Shit. Clare knows it's one of those conversations that aren't about him asking her if she wants to do something this weekend or telling her that he has to go home for a while to visit his folks. His tone evidently shows that it isn't easy what he is about to tell her.

"Sorry for being late," Clare weakly laughs. "Professor Geller was having another moody day..."

"It's fine."

Clare stares at Eli, curious and soft, and touches his shoulder.

"Is everything okay?"

Eli shakes his head and sighs again. Clare can hear him mutter to himself, come on.

"I-I've been thinking."

Eli never stutters and Clare is scared. She can feel her heart drop for some reason and the bile in her throat is gradually rising.

"About?"

"I need to figure some things out. My mind is all jumbled up and I'm confused."

"Is it...school? Your parents?"

Eli gives her a long glance and pulls himself away from her touch.

"Us?" Clare desperately gasps. Just saying it feels horrible.

Eli fake-smiles, "It's me. Not us. Not you. Me."

Clare is annoyed with this answer, "Melodramatic cliches? Really?"

"I'm not in the right place, Clare. These two years with you have been good to me, and I love you. I do. I just need a break,"

"Oh,"

He might as well have punched her in the gut with all he has, because that how it feels. Clare is figuratively dying.

"A break, Clare. I still want you in my life. Just not in this way, temporarily."

Of course. A break. Silly Clare. A break means nothing. A break is a small amount of time.

"I understand," She tightly nods.

Eli steps closer to her and he hugs her with all his might. He's breathing against her hair and she wants him to let her go because it'll make it less difficult and make her miss him less.

"I love you; I really do."

"I know."

"You love me too, right?"

Clare can't cry anymore and playfully socks his left arm, "I'm not the one asking for a break, am I?"

"Then you should understand."

Eli genuinely smiles at her and cups her cheek for a moment. He then turns away and waves goodbye.

"Understand what!" Clare cries after him.

Eli turns around and continues walking backwards with his hands in his pockets, "I'll see you around."

Dear Clare,

I am leaving to Europe. It's a trip I've been dreaming of for a while. I think I can discover what is it that I need while I'm there. Sorry that I didn't tell you this in person or even left you a call. But a letter is nice, isn't it? I remember you told me how much it was easier for you to communicate with Darcy through letters. You said that you're able to say what you need and want to say without feeling pressured. You're right again. I'll get straight to the point though.

It's best if you forget about me. I'm slowly starting to accept that we can't depend on each other. I can't depend on you. Your parents, our friends, everyone is right. We're not good for each other. All we do is make each other hurt. What type of healthy relationship is that? You deserve more. And to be frank, so do I. Clare, you're perfect. I want you to know that. You're just too perfect that you're not perfect for me. I'm sorry if that doesn't make sense either. This is difficult and I never thought I'd do this, but the break we planned may be longer than I had said. Don't wait for me; and don't come and search me. I need my time to be alone and be away from everyone. There's so much I want to say, but I don't want to make this letter something shittier for you to look back to whenever you remember me. When I saw you cry to yourself practically every day, I knew it was my fault. I wasn't the guy you needed. I'm not the guy you deserve. You are special. Don't think otherwise. Take care.

Sincerely,

Eli

2 months. Clare doesn't leave her dorm. She barely makes it to class and ignores her friends and family. Only a few care and less than a few actually tell her to quit moping around and do something.

It's bad enough that her mother stops by one day and walks into Clare's single-dorm. She has both her curtains closed and she can hear Clare's neighbors blasting a Smith's song. Clare has the pillow rested on the side of her elbow and her eyes are half-open. She's drooling and softly snoring. Helen hasn't ever seen her daughter this vulnerable or weak—it's pathetic. She begins to pick up scattered clothes on the floor and neatly shuffles the countless papers on her desk. After, she sits by her and shakes her a bit.

"For crying out loud Clare, it's three in the afternoon. Get up."

"I'm up." Clare mumbles and opens her eyes. She has strands of hair standing out in every direction and Helen caresses her face.

"Get over it."

Clare stares at her mother for a while and quickly curls into her shoulder. She places her arm over her eyes and sobs.

"Why doesn't he love me?" Clare repeats and she looks frail and fragile. She's a porcelain plate—easy to break with one slip.

"You're too good for him," Helen babies her and runs a hand through her hair, "You can do better."

Clare knows her answer to that is an arguable subject. And she knows that her mother's tone isn't convincing either. They both know the truth: Clare isn't good enough for Eli, and that's that.

It's also around that period of time that she practically has to beg Adam and grovel down to her knees to have him tell her how Eli is doing, because Adams knows what's going on and she can't know.

And after she would say something that would move Adam like, "After all he and I been through," or "I just can't sleep at night. I'm always thinking about him." Then, he would spill the beans and sometimes say random information and stuff that meant the world to Clare. Such as: Eli visiting the Tower of London or him living with a friend he made.

One day, Clare doesn't even need to ask and Adam quickly says each word flowing after another.

"He moved on."

She deflates her body and her eyes are shining with tears. She absently nods and smiles.

"Good. He's happy. Good."

.

2 years. Alli manages to get Clare to go on a blind date. It's horrible and Clare wonders how in the world Alli is associated with a psycho who makes dead-baby jokes every hour. Alli texts her asking how it went and Clare decides to ignore the text because her battery is about to die and she has to save it to call a cab.

Tough noodles. The cell phone dies and Clare is cold. She can't ask for a ride from the psycho because he scares the crap out of her. Clare stands at the corner of a liquor-store and a church. She is praying for a miracle.

A man who is walking his dog passes by and the dog jumps at Clare's legs. She smiles.

"Whoa girl, stop. Leave the pretty lady alone."

The dog outwardly pants its slimy tongue and runs around in small circles. The man smiles at Clare, "Sorry about that. She's too playful sometimes."

"Oh, it's fine." Clare says timidly, "I don't mean to be so sudden and rude, but do you have a cell phone I can use? My battery just died and I need a cab."

"I would...if I brought it with me," The man sheepishly grins, "On the other hand, I am walking around and I know this is soo 19th-century, but I could walk you home. It's late and cabs are full of creeps."

"So are the streets," Clare retorts.

"Well, I'm an exception. I have a dog and actually taking him out for a walk. Society sees me as a man who is an animal-lover and not lazy."

"Very true." Clare smiles and extends her hand, "The name is Clare."

"I don't give my name out to strangers, but you don't seem suspicious...Bill." He grabs her hand and shakes it.

.

2 years and 3 months. Bill is the average man, who is also very good-looking. He has these gorgeous hazel eyes and sandy brown hair that Clare loves to run her hands through. He's 6'2 and obviously towers over Clare every time he's by her side. He's got a Colgate-smile and a charisma that he isn't afraid to hide. Helen and Randall love Bill. They love his "I'm a serious man with serious intentions" attitude. They love his job: financial adviser of the local bank. They love his smile and they love his approach towards life.

"If you love something, go for it. Work for it. It's possible."

And this would follow Bill pecking Clare on the cheek. Helen would 'aww' and Randall felt assured.

Bill loves Clare. He works to make her happy. And it is more than possible.

They are engaged by their one and half year anniversary. It's soon and not enough time to fully understand if this is what Clare wants. But, she thinks about Eli when Bill proposes and she finds herself wanting to marry Bill at the very moment with no regrets.

It's just her mind playing tricks on her.

.

3 years. Adam is not her maid of honor, even though Clare says it would be awesome if he was because she once saw in a movie in which a guy was the maid of honor.

Adam promptly declines and Alli takes the offer. Alli is hesitant at first since she has her job which requires her to leave the country abruptly and questionably. Nonetheless, she's thrilled to be a part of it and is always on top of everything.

"The dress is so precious!"

"I don't like white. It's such a boring color," Clare sighs as she adjusts her veil.

"For someone who is about to get married you don't seem too thrilled or nervous. You seem... bored. Is it that bad?"

"What are you talking about?" Clare gruffly says, "This is the happiest day of my life."

Alli raises her eyebrows as a gesture that she's backing off and not asking anymore questions.

Adam walks in and he smiles at Clare, "You look so tiny."

"Wish me luck?"

"It's not a fucking play, Clare. It's your wedding." Adam deadpans and signals Alli to leave them alone for a moment.

Adam stands over Clare and she's trembling. She ignores it and tries to pretend she's fixing her make-up, but Adam knows Clare since they were 12 and he understands her like the palm of his hand.

"He knows."

"Hm?" Clare hums as she applies red lipstick on her bottom lip.

"He says that he wishes you the best and that he's glad that you'll be happy. I'm telling you this because I know you're dying to know what he thinks of all of this. And I know I shouldn't be telling you such information right before you tie the knot, but it's just to show you that this is the best thing for you right now. Bill will make you happy."

Clare grabs two tissues near her and lightly wipes the lipstick off her mouth. She tosses the napkins to the side. They open up and float downwards like a parachute, but before they both hit the ground, Clare turns around and walks up to him.

"Adam, you jokester!" Clare fake-laughs like a playful child, "Who's he?"

Adam doesn't smile this time and deeply hugs her, "Break a leg."

It's not such a big deal. They both say "I do." and briefly kiss when it all ends. Everyone is grinning from ear to ear and clapping in the crowd. Clare's family is whistling and tears of joy are secreting from their eyes. Bill's family is groaning and awing in approval. They all see that Bill won't stop looking at Clare like she's the only girl in the world.

Clare is staring straight ahead at the door—as if she were waiting for someone to enter and pull off a 'Benjamin Braddock' at her wedding.

It's too late for that now.

It's out of the blue that a couple months later that Adam stops by and visits both Bill and Clare.

Bill is comfortable enough with Adam that he excuses himself to leave Clare and Adam alone to catch up. Adam begins to say that he has the need to get out of town and "explore" other places. He also mentions that on weekends, he goes to a town nearby and sees someone: Tabatha.

"When?" Clare sadly asks.

"I don't know." Adam says, "This place isn't doing much for me. I like the people, but shit, it's so boring and I feel like I should expand my options."

"So this is serious?"

"Pretty much."

"Are you going with Tabatha? She seems lovely."

"I'm not sure. The problem with her is that she wants kids and I don't even think about that stuff,"

Clare doesn't reply and Adam knows he said the wrong thing.

"Sorry. I'm such a jerk; I know you and Bill..."

Clare cuts him off, "He doesn't want any kids. I do...I-I want a lot of things he disagrees with."

"That's not fair. Ever since we were young, you always said how you wanted a big family,"

There's a faraway look in Clare's eyes and she's chuckling, "When I was young I wanted too many things that I don't have right now,"

Adam is sipping the soda Clare gave him earlier and his phone abruptly rings. He answers it and his voice sharpens, "I'm busy."

Clare tilts her head a bit and she is able to hear a familiar voice.

"Yeah. That sounds right." Adam replies and he's about to hang up but Clare roughly grabs the phone out of his hand.

Adam's eyes are wide and his face is pale.

"Hello? Adam?"

It's him. Clare's hand is tightening the phone; she sighs and smiles.

"Eli, Eli, you there? I-It's me, Clare."

He hangs up and Clare is speechless. Her hand is cramped from clutching the phone too tightly and she opens it and closes it repeatedly.

"That's okay," Clare nods her head and she's smiling at Adam, but her eyes are turning red and shining with tears.

"Not okay." Adam replies and pats her head.

He sleeps soundly and stirs his bulky arms against her back. This always gives her the benefit of the doubt. She doesn't have to worry if he notices the way she cringes to herself, as long as he isn't awake.

Clare does not sleep. She already has a job that keeps her up late, and nothing seems to help.

Sex does not put her to sleep either. Instead, it leaves her wide awake with a heightened conscious. This is always after Clare would rest her elbows beneath him to try and keep her body from touching him too much because it disgusts her. His skin is too dry and cold that it makes her hold her breath every time he hugs her. She gives him her body partially and sparingly. He is too clueless to ever notice. And whenever Clare has sex with Bill, she always finds herself looking up at him. Not into his eyes; just at his face in general. She looks at him while he chugs along and asks herself how it had come to this.

He has the face of a child that is lacking it owns understanding of morality. It is certainly not the face of a man—or rather a certain man. No, Bill's cheeks are flushed and its color brightens each time he groans her name.

And each time she looks at him the way she does, with saddening curiosity of why she was here with him, she reaches her hand to his cheek and brushes his face. Bill mistakenly takes this as a gesture of tenderness.

When he sleeps, Clare finds herself thinking about sex. What was it supposed to be, exactly? She remembers the glazed look in Alli's eyes whenever she spoke about it. Was it that? Had she felt it? And what was the point of him pushing his weight against her? Was he trying to prove that he was the dominant one? It is unlikely. He is not aggressive. Sex with him keeps her up every time, thinking.

When Clare finally sleeps, she is awakened by wet lips trailing down her shoulder. She turns and sees Bill grinning at her. She's stiff and silent.

"Sweetheart,"

She shudders and her throat is tightening with repulsion, "Hm?"

"I'm going to work now, goodbye."

She turns back to him and whispers "Have a good day."

"You too," He smiles, "I'll come for dinner at 6 with the boys. Make some of that stuff from last time; they liked it."

Clare nods and hides inside the covers.

"Oh, and bake some dessert, that would be great too."

It's not a minute after that Bill shakes her and asks if she had ironed his pants—the black ones that he bought a week ago. Clare tells him she forgot and he glares at her before deciding that he'll just have to wear something else.

She can't do this anymore.

Clare is tired. She gets ready to drive to work and her eyes are rapidly blinking. She has never been more tired. When she was making breakfast this morning, her hand was resting upon her cereal, and she burnt the toast. Bill did not notice this, but he did notice that he went to work on an empty stomach.

When Clare starts the engine, the rattled noise that once annoyed her is now like a lullaby that is soothing her to sleep. The sun is brighter than ever and it is blinding her. She turns on the radio and it's a Cat Stevens song Eli used to sing when they dated,

Oh, baby, baby, it's a wild world

She is able to remember what they both were doing, what he wore, every gesture he made, and the last word her said to her at the end of the day.

Clare starts to hum to the lyrics and she makes a mental note to ask Adam how Eli is doing. She doesn't care that she has no right to know anymore because she's a married woman. She wants to hear if he's happy; that's what matters to her.

Clare drives down the street and her back begins to itch. She also makes a mental note to scratch it when she reaches the next stop.

When the car does reach a stop, it is overturned.

There's smoke. Lots of it.

Clare is lying on the pavement and a bone is emerging out of her wrist. Her arteries are displayed among the world and she wants to announce, "Hey! Look at me! Look at my blood!" But, her voice is not making any noise. She barely hears the ambulance and the cries of people. And yet, she can still hear the song in her head and Eli singing it.

Every drop of blood is red and fusing with the charcoal ground. The street looks imperfect when a brown splotch spreads further and further. Time is running out. Clare closes her eyes and she can't help but recite the last chorus of the song, But if you wanna leave, take good care.

.

Few people go to Clare's funeral and are actually crying their asses off. Bill is holding onto the coffin and sobs heartily into his sleeve. Helen and Randall are hugging each other and haven't said a word the entire day. Alli is wearing sunglasses that are covering her tears. Adam is staring off into space and crossing his arms. He saw Clare a few days ago and she was alive. Alive. Darcy isn't saying much but sobbing into her hands. Bill's parents are standing in the corner and shedding a few tears.

They are about to bury the coffin and everyone lets go and says goodbye.

They leave and the rain begins to pour. It's gushes of wind that brush the leaves scattered on the dry grass. It's the eeriness that begins to sweep in when everyone is gone and no noise is made. Next time they'll dare to visit will probably be on her birthday or during the holidays. That's how it's supposed to be.

The cemetery is cold and gray. It fades out to black. But if you would look closely, you would see the man emerge from a distance and hesitantly walk to the grave.

He drops to his knees and stares for a while before sprawling his body on top of it.

It's a confliction of emotions. He has a tense expression that at first turns confused, then scared, then sad, and finally hopeless.

Eli chokes on a sob and lastly mumbles, "Hey, love. Long time no see,"

A/N: Soo, I've been having a shitty week and I felt like writing something to take out my frustration on...it's inspired by the song, "Wild World" by Cat Stevens. Yeah, that's one of the songs I listen to when I feel like crap. That's all, folks.
P.S. Benjamin Braddock is from The Graduate, he stops a wedding for the girl he "loves," it's an awesome movie. Watch it.