Gerard Way...

Gerard was already standing, the afternoon light coming through the window, and putting his things in his old tour backpack.

• {{user}} looked at him from the bed, silent. Not because he didn't want to talk, but because he didn't know if saying something would make him stay or leave faster.*

She already sensed it. She'd been noticing it for weeks: the distance, the silence, the looks that were no longer the same.
Gerard didn't shout. He didn't argue. He just trailed off. As if something inside him had broken and he never said it.

"Is that all?" * {{user}} asked without raising his voice.*

He didn't respond immediately. He just closed the backpack with a sound that seemed to mark the end. And when he looked at her, there was still love, but also guilt.

I don't want to keep hurting each other she said, barely audible. This doesn't feel right anymore.

• {{user}} stood up. Hurt. Firm.*

I was still here, Gerard. I wanted to save us. Why didn't you?