#If It Kills Me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stardustshelb · 8 months

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"If It Kills Me" - Jake One Shot

TW: Language. Your name (female) + Jake. 6,339 words.

The song "If It Kills Me" by Jason Mraz inspired me to write this story; each part of the story is inspired by a different part of the song.

Part One

"It would be such a beautiful moment to see the look on your face,

To know that I know that you know now.

And baby that's a case of my wishful thinking.

You know nothing." - JM

You’re sending me one-worded texts. You’re probably busy. At least that’s what I’m telling myself because why else would you be responding like you’re mad at me? I haven’t done anything to make you angry. If you knew I was spiraling and overthinking like this, you’d probably throw in an emoji, a gif, something to ease my mind. I decided to stop dwelling on the “ok” and “lol” replies and put my phone away. I’m clearly distracted and the last thing I need is Danny getting angry if I throw the tempo off again.

“Let’s run through that one more time,” Josh said into the microphone. I normally am the serious one who takes control of our practices, but I wasn’t feeling it today. We were going on four hours of rehearsal for our upcoming tour. I was exhausted because I stayed up too late, but that’s the sacrifice you make when the love of your life lives in a different time zone. I listened to Danny count us in, “One, two, three, four,” and began playing my guitar. I tried to focus on the music but thoughts of you kept creeping in.

When rehearsal finally ended, I checked my phone hoping to see your name on my screen. Nope. You left me on read. Thousands of notifications plague my screen but the one notification I was looking for was nonexistent. I started replaying the last parts of our conversation last night; if you were mad at me for something I said, I truly couldn’t remember. I put my phone in my back pocket and finished packing my stuff up for the day. We had to be back bright and early tomorrow, so thankfully I didn’t have to pack up all of my pedals and amps.

“What are you doing tonight?” Sam asked as he held out a ruby grapefruit White Claw to me.

“It’s barely 2:00 in the afternoon, man,” I said as I waved his offer away. “Uh, I’m probably going to take it easy tonight and stay in.”

“That’s what you did last night,” Sam said as he shifted his weight to his other foot. He was clearly bummed that I wasn’t up for hanging out.

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to savor my nights at home before I spend them all on the road,” I said with a shrug. I loved touring and playing music more than anything, but I also loved sleeping in my own bed. I just wished you were here to share it with me.

“If you change your mind, call me,” he said as he placed the unopened White Claw down near my boot. He walked away before I could respond. I stared at the can and then grabbed it before walking out to the parking lot.

When I got home, I took a quick shower and laid on the couch scrolling through the pictures in my camera roll. Our social media team has made several remarks lately that my Instagram was too “dry” and our fans were begging for more content from me. I never really pay much attention to the demands of keeping up an online presence on social media. I scrolled back to March of this year and smiled as I looked at the pictures from our quick trip to the beach. It was the last time we were able to spend time together as just the two of us. We spent four days secluded from the outside world in a condo in Santa Barbara. It was the highlight of my year. I found a picture you took of me when I was staring out into the sunset. My jeans were rolled up to my shins to keep from getting wet as the waves rolled in. I remember the water was so cold I thought my toes were going to turn black. You don’t smoke anymore, but you took a hit (or two) on the joint hanging out of my mouth. I didn’t know you took the picture of me at the time, but I’m thankful you did. If only you knew that at that moment I was cursing the sun for leaving and robbing us of another day together.

The night passed by quickly. I still hadn’t heard from you and I was trying not to worry. It wasn’t like we were always in constant contact with our busy work schedules, but you should have texted me by now. I was fighting my eyelids to stay awake. I knew you had been working night shifts at the hospital recently, but I knew you were off. Our three-hour time difference really made things difficult for my sleep schedule. While it was almost 2 a.m. for me, I knew you would be awake and scrolling through your plethora of social media apps before getting ready for bed.

I had an idea that normally worked when I needed a desperate way to grab your attention. I opened my Instagram app for the first time in weeks and hit the plus sign to make a post. I scrolled back to the picture you took of me on the beach and typed the caption, “The fleeting daylight gave me liberation though I longed for staying a captive on the sand.” I hit send and waited for the trap I set to work. I knew you had my Instagram notifications turned on.

I chuckled as I read the comments from fans who always posted the most unhinged shit. Even though my motive was to get a response from you, I still enjoyed reading the interesting comments. And as if I knew you better than you knew yourself, I suddenly was on the receiving end of your FaceTime call.

“Hey,” I said as I propped the phone up on the pillow next to me. I fought the urge to display a smug smile.

“You have a typo in your Instagram caption,” you said. You had a toothbrush hanging out the side of your mouth and your hair was wrapped up in a towel.

“Do I?” I asked, playing dumb. Any time I needed a response from you, posting a typo on social media worked 9 times out of 10. Josh just thinks I’m an idiot at this point.

“It doesn’t even make sense,” you said as you leaned down to spit off camera.

“Fine, I’ll fix it,” I said as I reopened the app to make an edit to the caption.

“You could have at least given me photographer credits,” you said. I fixed the typo and opened your FaceTime back so I could see your beautiful face full screen. You weren’t paying me any attention as you were doing your nighttime skincare routine. I didn’t care because I was still able to admire you.

“You and I both know the insanity that would ensue if I tagged you in anything,” I said with a sigh.

“That’s true,” you said.

“I miss the beach,” I said but fought to replace beach with the word you. Though, you would have seen it all over my face if you were looking at me.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t talk much today,” you said.

“I was beginning to think you were mad at me,” I admitted.

“Why would I be mad at you?” you asked as you suddenly stopped rubbing moisturizer into your skin. You stopped looking at yourself in the mirror and stared at your phone–stared at me. I tried to remember what I was saying.

“I–uh–well, you know, you didn’t respond for hours, and uh, when you did, it was um–” I knew I was tripping over my words. I felt my face getting warm because I was flustered.

“I’m not mad at you, Jake. At least not at the moment,” you said with a wink.

“You know I get into my head sometimes,” I said as I smoothed my hair back.

“Better than anyone. Ok, well, I wanted to pop on real quick to tell you good night,” you said. I could tell you were about to wrap up the call. I hated saying goodbye but I needed to sleep too.

“Good night, y/n” I said as I watched you finish drying your hair.

“Good night, Jake,” you said before hanging up.

“I love you,” remained silently on my lips.

Part Two

"Well you and I,

Why, we go carrying on for hours on end.

We get along much better,

Than you and your boyfriend." - JM

“You look like shit,” Josh said. Once again, another sleepless night robbed me of any rest and relaxation before another full morning of rehearsal. Thoughts of you mixed with anticipation for the new tour had my mind racing.

“Yeah, well, we’re twins,” I said as I stirred my coffee. “So, I guess you look like shit too.” I was fighting the urge to add a little whiskey to it if this was how practice was going to go.

“This is the last practice of the week, so let’s not fuck around and waste any time today,” he added.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned. I didn’t like what he was implying.

“It means get your head out of your ass and finish your coffee so we can get started,” he said. I could sense Josh was angry about something, but there was no telling with him. The smallest inconvenience could set him off. I bit my tongue and let him have his moment of misdirected anger. I finished my cup of coffee and started to plug in my guitar.

“Yesterday we stopped after ‘Frozen Light’ so let’s move on through the rest of the set list,” I said.

“Well, then you’re plugging in the wrong guitar,” Josh said. Confused, I glanced at the taped setlist on my side of the stage and realized our B stage performance was next.

“Oh, yeah,” I said.

“You would know that if you paid any attention yesterday,” Josh said under his breath.

“What the fuck is your problem this morning?” I asked.

“Guys,” Sam said as he stepped in to diffuse the situation. That’s what the three of us did. Whoever was the one outside of the conflict always stepped in to help calm the other two down. But truth be told, it was normally Sam who worked as the middle man. “I’m not acting as the rope for your game of tug-of-war today.” My heart strings pulled a little for my younger brother as I threw my cup of coffee in the trash.

Rehearsal went by a lot quicker today than it did yesterday. I’m sure it was because anger fueled me not to waste a single moment of time so I didn’t have to be here any longer than I had to be. I was looking forward to a couple days off. I wondered if I could make a quick trip to California to see you this weekend.

“Hey,” I heard Josh’s voice from behind me. I continued to pack up my stuff instead of turning around to face him.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” he said. I stopped messing with my cords and sighed before turning around.

“It’s ok,” I said when I met his eyes.

“I’m stressed about the tour and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” he said. Any ounce of anger I had instantly evaporated. I could tell he needed a hug so I pulled him in. Normally he was the one to initiate physical contact, but I knew what he needed.

“Are you sticking around here for the weekend?” I asked as I let go of our embrace.

“I’m not sure. What about you?” Josh responded.

“I may explore the west coast for a couple days,” I said, rubbing my chin.

“Jake…” Josh’s voice sounded like a warning.

“What?” I asked. He sighed and shook his head, clearly not saying what he wanted to say.

“Tell y/n I said hi,” he said.

“I never said I was going to see her,” I said.

“You didn’t have to,” he added.

“It’s not a good weekend,” you said. Your words immediately broke my heart and I struggled to hold the phone in my hand. I called to see if I could come stay and visit because I hadn’t seen you in nearly three months.

“I thought you said you were off most of this week,” I said, trying to mask the sadness in my voice.

“I am,” you said.

“So why can’t I come? I miss the beach. I miss you,” the words escaped my mouth before I realized it.

“I have plans this weekend,” you said. I could tell you didn’t want to volunteer any more information and that I was going to have to ask to get any details.

“One day on the beach with me is all I ask,” I practically begged.

“Nathan and I are going out of town,” you said. There it was. The reason you were being so short and vague. You knew how I felt about him; I just wish you knew how I felt about you.

“He’s still around?” I asked.

“Jake, I’m not having this conversation again,” you said. I could hear the frustration in your voice.

“Where are you guys going?” I asked. I really didn’t want to know any details because I didn’t want to think about Nathan any more than I had to. I was struggling to play nice.

“He’s taking me to his parents’ house in Malibu,” you said. I felt my chest tighten.

“You’re meeting his parents?” I asked.

“Yes, Jake. Is that ok with you?” you asked sarcastically.

“You know you don’t need my permission for anything. I can’t say the same for Nathan,” I added. I tasted the bitterness of my insult. You didn’t immediately respond so I knew my words made an impact. I then heard you speaking but I couldn’t tell what you were saying. The sound was muffled as if your hand was covering the phone.

“Hello?” I asked. I continued listening to the muffled conversation and realized he was currently there with you. I couldn’t make out what you two were saying but I was growing more and more frustrated by the second. “Y/n?” I asked again, hoping for a response, but I continued to sit on the metaphorical back burner.

“Sorry about that,” you said. “Hey, I’ve got to finish packing but I will call you tomorrow.”

“Sure, of course. I will talk to you tomorrow,” I said as you ended the call.

I made myself a drink and debated calling one of the guys to come over and hangout. It was only 8:00 p.m. but I felt the exhaustion from the last two days taking its toll on me. Well, the tequila in my drink probably didn’t help. I figured I should take advantage of some extra hours of sleep. I polished off my glass and slowly shuffled to my bedroom. I put my phone on the charger and collapsed into my bed. For once, I didn’t have to lie awake as I slowly sunk into the pillow.

Part Three

"How long, can I go on like this,

Wishing to kiss you

Before I rightly explode?

Well this double life I lead isn't healthy for me.

In fact, it makes me nervous.

If I get caught, I could be risking it all." - JM

I didn’t realize that I slept for over 14 hours when I rolled over to check the time on my phone. Both my body and my mind really needed to rest. I scrolled through the notifications on my screen with tired eyes until I spotted two missed calls from you. As if you were a shot of espresso, I was immediately awake. You didn’t leave me a voicemail but you had called me at what would be 1 a.m. your time. I sat up straight and nervously called you back.

“Hello?” you answered on the first ring. Your voice sounded strange.

“Hey, I’m sorry I missed your calls last night. What’s going on?” I asked.

“If you’re still wanting to come to California, I’m free,” you said.

“I’ll be on the next flight,” I said as I hurried to get out of bed.

“Thanks, Jake,” you said. I could tell you were on the verge of tears, so I decided not to press for any details yet. We could talk it out once I got there.

I landed in Santa Barbara just after 7 p.m. and headed through the small California airport. It was surprisingly easy finding a last-minute flight, but it wasn’t easy getting through the airport. Even today, I am still taken aback by the attention I receive from fans. I texted you to find out where to meet you and made my way down the escalator. I was only staying for two nights so I threw everything I needed into my backpack. I can travel light. I waited outside and kept my head down until I saw your car rolling up. To my surprise, Nathan was in the passenger seat. I felt sick. You immediately jumped out of the car and ran straight to me. I wanted to pick you up and spin you around, but I knew that would not make a great first impression with your boyfriend.

“I’m so happy to see you!” you squealed as I lingered in your welcoming embrace. Everything I had planned to say to you was no longer relevant now that he was here.

“I’m happy to be here,” I said as you finally let go. I could feel Nathan staring at us but I kept my eyes locked on your beautiful face. Your naturally long eyelashes fluttered and I swore I stopped breathing.

“Are you hungry?” you asked.

“Famished, actually,” I said, realizing all I’ve eaten today were the free snacks the airline gives you.

“Good because I made lasagna,” you said as you stood on your tiptoes.

“Did you follow your famous recipe?” I asked.

“From a box?” you asked with a laugh.

“Shh, we pretend, remember?” I asked. Before you could respond, we both jumped at the sound of your car horn. Nathan’s impatience seemed to get the best of him. I grinded my teeth before taking a deep breath. So much for first impressions.

“Come on,” you said as you rolled your eyes and laughed. I relaxed my fingers, which I didn’t realize were balled up into a fist, before following you to your car. I slid into the backseat and channeled my inner Josh so I could act like I was excited about meeting Nathan.

“Hey, man. I’m Jake,” I said, sticking my arm out to shake his hand. He turned around and looked at me like I was covered in dirt.

“Hello, Jake,” he said, finally grabbing my hand unenthusiastically. “I’m Dr. Turner.” Give me a break. You got into the car and smiled when you saw us shaking hands.

“Oh good, I didn’t have to do the introductions,” you said with a wink.

I learned your weekend trip to Malibu was canceled when Nathan–or Dr. Turner–found out he needed to be on call at the hospital last minute. I could tell you were disappointed, but I’m not sure if that was the reason you sounded like you were crying on the phone this morning. I made a mental note to ask you about it when we had some privacy. I knew Nathan was staying for dinner but I was praying to whatever God who was listening that he wouldn’t be staying the night as well. I needed alone time with you.

When we got back to your place, I made my way to your guest room to put my backpack up. I checked in with the guys to let them know I had made it safely to your place. I guess news of me being in California was all over Twitter and Instagram because our social media manager sent me screenshots of some pictures I took with fans in the airport. I knew we’d have to lay low now that I was here to keep your identity hidden. The last thing you or I needed were pictures of us circulating online with rumors. I started to make my way out of the bedroom when I stopped in the doorway. I could hear you and Nathan having what sounded like an argument, and I didn’t want to interrupt. I leaned in closer to the hallway to eavesdrop.

“He can’t get a hotel room?” Nathan asked.

“I’m not making my best friend stay in a hotel,” you said as you closed the oven door.

“He can afford it,” he said with a scoff.

“I don’t concern myself with other people’s finances, Nathan. You know that. People could say the same thing about me dating a doctor,” you said. I rolled my eyes.

“I just don’t like the idea of another guy staying the night with you,” he said.

“He’s not staying with me. He’s sleeping in another room. Plus I’ve known Jake almost my entire life. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve slept under the same roof,” you said.

“I would feel more comfortable if I were here too,” he said. I felt my blood start to boil.

“Please trust me, Nathan. I’ve never given you a reason not to,” you said. I couldn’t handle listening any longer so I made my way out of the hallway and walked into the kitchen. When you saw me, you pulled away from Nathan. I’m not sure if you noticed–but both he and I did. I’m sure that unconscious movement only fueled his insecurities even more.

Dinner went better than one would expect. It appears everyone–including myself–is a great actor. One would have never guessed Nathan didn’t want me there with the way he was asking me questions about my life with the band. If I didn’t know half of what I already knew about him, I’d think he was a pretty good guy. You beamed watching the two of us converse. I gazed at your full lips across the table as they broke into a smile. I wanted nothing more than to kiss them.

“Nothing like a home-cooked meal,” you said with a laugh. I gave you a soft smile.

“Stouffer’s is a specialty with this one,” Nathan said, pulling you into a side hug. “I’m hoping she’ll learn her way around a kitchen eventually.”

“I will take anything that’s not fast food at this point,” I said. I stared at the glass mason jar of strawberry lemonade you so kindly made AKA mixed Crystal Light with water. I knew you had a busy schedule at the hospital and worked so hard as a nurse. And I knew you had to fend a lot for yourself growing up. I was just proud that you made a life for yourself and lived unapologetically. I didn’t care that you never took an interest in cooking. You never tried to be anyone but yourself and I loved that about you.

“Well, it would be nice to have something that wasn’t full of preservatives every once in a while,” Nathan said with a laugh. I looked up to meet his eyes and if looks could kill, he’d be a goner. You sensed my sudden change in mood and laughed at his joke–a laugh that you and I both knew was fake and forced.

“I’m a great cook, actually. What about you Nathan?” I said.

“A man’s place doesn’t belong in the kitchen. Plus, I’m too busy with surgeries and–” he was saying.

“The 1900s called. They want their sexist views back,” I joked. You let out a wild laugh, one that was so not fake. I watched Nathan squirm in his seat before forcing a smile. Before he could respond, the ringing of his work phone distracted us.

“Great,” he muttered before excusing himself from the table. When he was out of the room, you and I locked eyes and you started that wild laugh again.

“Jacob Thomas Kiszka, you are horrible,” you said. I loved when you used my full name.

“What kind of backwards ideology is that?” I asked. I wasn’t joking anymore.

“He was raised differently,” you said, smoothing the napkin in your lap.

“Does he call his mom Mother? Be honest,” I said, biting my lip to keep from laughing.

“Jake…” you said.

“Holy shit, he does!” I exclaimed. We both were laughing hysterically when Nathan came back into the room.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Jake just told me a funny story,” you said nervously.

“I like to laugh,” Nathan said as he joined us at the table.

“Do you have to leave, darling?” you asked. I could taste the bile in my throat after hearing you call him that.

“Yeah, here in a second. I want to hear this hilarious story first,” he said as he met my stare.

“It’s really an inside joke. You wouldn’t–” you started.

“I’m waiting,” Nathan said, not breaking my eye contact. Just then, I fantasized about stabbing him in the neck with the fork in my hand.

“I was telling y/n the story about how Josh–that’s my brother–sometimes acts in his diva persona,” I was trying to come up with something on the fly. I’m sure anyone with a brain would know I was lying, but I kept going. “And when he’s this super bitch–his words–he makes life hell for us all.”

“And that’s…funny?” Nathan asked.

“If you knew him, yes,” I said.

“Right. Well, I’ve been called in for surgery. Another with cirrhosis of the liver. They’re a dime a dozen nowadays,” Nathan said. It was hard to believe he was talking about another human life. I wouldn’t want someone who didn’t see value in another person’s soul operating on me. He wouldn’t give a shit if I lived or died. I’d be just another body on the operating table to him. “That’s why I’ve encouraged y/n to stop drinking. Nasty stuff. Jake, you should consider it too.”

“Thanks for the medical advice, doc,” I said.

“I’m serious. Alcohol is poison. But then again, so are all of the preservatives we consume in our instant lemonades and frozen lasagnas, so what the hell do I know?” he laughed. Nobody laughed along with him this time.

“I’ll walk you out,” you said as you pushed yourself away from the table. I wasn’t sure if you were needing a break from yet another one of his passive aggressive insults, or if you were trying to get him away from me before I did something that would put me behind bars for the rest of my life.

Part Four

"If I should be so bold,

I'd ask you to hold my heart in your hand.

I'd tell you from the start how I longed to be your man.

But I never said a word,

I guess I'm gonna miss my chance again." - JM

We spent the rest of the evening sitting on your couch and catching up. We talked every day but having this time with you in person felt completely different. You wanted to know everything about our new tour and I could feel the excitement radiating off of you.

“Will you be there opening night?” I asked.

“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said. “I have a confession.”

“Oh?” I asked as I moved closer to you.

“I have a bottle of tequila stashed in the cabinet above the refrigerator,” you whispered.

“You know how I feel about alcohol, and don’t even get me started on preservatives,” I said sarcastically. You threw a pillow at me before jumping up to grab it. I watched you climb on top of your kitchen counter to be able to reach your hidden contraband. You jumped down off the counter and ran back to join me on the couch with the forbidden bottle of tequila tucked under your arm.

“If you can guess my favorite song off the new album, I will take a shot. If you get it wrong, you have to take a shot,” you said, holding the bottle out to me.

“So I have a 90% chance of taking a shot,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“The odds are definitely in my favor,” you said with a laugh. I studied your face for a moment. I wanted to tell you how you were the inspiration for my most favorite song that I’ve ever written. Josh heard it once and knew it belonged on the album. I wanted to explain how my time on the beach with you earlier this year inspired the story behind the song. Every word, every line to the song “Waited All Your Life” was written about you. You were the song. But how could I ever admit that?

“Runway Blues?” I guessed. I knew it wouldn’t be it. And for a moment, I swear a look of disappointment flashed across your face for a brief moment.

“Nope! Take a shot!” you said as you proudly held the bottle to me.

“What was the right answer?” I asked as I unscrewed the lid. I put the bottle to my lips and wondered when it touched yours last.

“‘Waited All Your Life’ is my favorite,” you said with a soft smile. I felt my chest tighten at your admission and took a shot of tequila straight from the bottle.

“Mine too,” I said so quietly I wondered if you even heard me. “Hey, can we go to the beach tomorrow? Just the two of us?”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” you said as you grabbed the bottle from me. You took a shot and I envied the bottle that got to kiss your lips.

After talking and laughing for several hours on the couch, you got a text from Nathan that the surgery went well and he was headed home for the night.

“Home as in…?” I asked.

“Home as in his own home. We don’t live together, Jake,” you said as you looked up at me under your lashes.

“I know, I know,” I said as I sighed with relief. You screwed the lid back on the bottle of tequila before climbing back up to stash it away for another time. When you came back into the living room, you stood at the end of the couch and yawned. Unfortunately, I knew what was coming.

“I think we should call it a night,” you said. I didn’t want this night to end. Carpe noctem.

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired,” I lied.

“Don’t set an alarm. Sleep in and we’ll go to the beach whenever we feel like it tomorrow,” you said. I didn’t want to sleep at all. I didn’t want to waste a single moment when I’m here with you.

“Ok, sounds like a plan,” I said as I stood up. I walked closer to you and I watched you suck in a breath.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you said quietly.

“Me too,” I said as I wrapped my arms around you.

“Good night, Jake,” you said.

“Good night, y/n,” I whispered.

After my shower, I laid on the bed in the guest bedroom and stared at the ceiling fan for what felt like an eternity. Thoughts of you, thoughts of us, thoughts of Nathan, the beach, tequila, and your song clouded my mind. I wanted to get out of bed and knock on your bedroom door. I wanted to admit every thought and feeling I’ve hidden from you for years. I wanted to admit how I’ve kept this secret from you for so long and it kills me nearly every day. I wanted to cry and scream and then cry some more. I wanted to hold you. But I just laid there and stared at the ceiling fan as the blades moved in a perfect rotation. Maybe tomorrow I’d admit these things to you. Maybe when we’re on the beach I’d finally find courage amongst the waves. I closed my eyes and let the hope for tomorrow guide my dreams for tonight.

Part Five

"And all I really want to do is to feel you.

It's a feeling inside that keeps building.

I will find a way to you if it kills me.

If it kills me.

It might kill me." - JM

I helped unload your adirondack chairs from the back of your car when we found a spot on the beach that was secluded from both the locals and the tourists. There was a walk-up bar not too far from us, but still far enough away that we felt like we were the only two people on the beach. I kept my sunglasses on as I faced the ocean, admiring the sunlight reflecting off the water. I watched you apply your sunscreen and waited for you to ask me to help you apply it to your back and neck.

“Do you mind helping?” you asked, turning away from me and moving your hair to the side. I grabbed the bottle and started to rub the lotion on your back. I took my time because I wanted to feel every inch of your soft skin.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked as I continued rubbing the sunscreen on your shoulders. I finally felt enough courage to ask about the phone call since I couldn’t see your eyes.

“Always,” you said.

“When I talked to you on the phone yesterday morning… You sounded like you were crying,” I quietly admitted. I waited for you to say something but the silence lingered in the air.

“I was,” you said.

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t really want to talk about it, Jake,” you said as you dropped your head. I stared at the back of your neck waiting for the right words to come to me.

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” I said.

“I know,” you said. I put my hands on your shoulders and pulled for you to turn to face me. When you met my eyes, I could see they were hiding something.

“Y/n, what’s bothering you?” I asked. You sighed as you put your sunglasses on, attempting to camouflage your emotions.

“Nathan and I got into an argument that night and I called you in the heat of the moment. But we worked it out by the time you called me back the next morning. I was still upset and just needed to see my best friend,” you said as you reached out to squeeze my hand. “I miss you so much.”

“Loving a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be,” I sang a line from one of your favorite Journey songs as I let your hand stay in mine. I knew what I had to do to make you smile.

“Oh, girl, you stand by me,” you sang playfully. You loved when I sang, especially when it was a song off of your comfort playlist.

“I’m forever yours,” I sang back to you, meaning every word I said.

“Faithfully,” you sang as you let go of my hand. I wanted the lyrics to be true for you like they were for me. You laid your head back on your chair and basked in the sunlight.

“Y/n?” I asked.

“Mhm?” you replied, still sunbathing.

“I–” I began, but stopped speaking when your phone started ringing.

“Sorry, this is work,” you said as you fished your phone out of your tote bag. I watched your face turn to disappointment behind the sunglasses. “Hello?” you said as you answered. You got up and walked away to take the phone call. I turned my attention away from you and looked out toward the waves. I knew our time together was ending quicker than I wanted it to. I was supposed to fly back home first thing tomorrow morning, and we were supposed to spend the entire day together on the beach, but my gut told me those plans were about to change. Being a musician, I was no stranger to abrupt changes and I quickly learned how to adapt to the unexpected. Nothing in my life ever goes according to plan anymore. I glanced your direction and watched you pace back and forth, still talking to whoever it was on the phone. I turned back toward the water and savored what I knew would be my final moments here on the beach. Another chance I would never take washed away on the shore line. I wiped the tear that escaped my eye as you walked back toward your empty chair. You didn’t have to say it; I knew.

“I am so sorry, Jake,” you began.

“Do we need to go?” I asked.

“Yes,” you said with a sigh. Without another word, I stood up and helped grab the chairs to make our way back to your car.

“Please feel free to stay in my house until I get back. I only have to go in for a few hours to help locate and fix some medical charts that got mishandled. I don’t have to work a full shift tonight,” you said.

“Sure, of course,” I lied. I’d be searching for the next flight out of California the second you walked out the door. I knew you would be upset that I planned to leave without a proper goodbye, but I left what I needed to say out on the beach. The waves carried my broken heart back to the ocean. My unspoken words would forever remain buried in the sand.

Eventually, I would find my way back there when you were ready to hear them.

It wasn’t our time, yet. And it kills me that maybe it never will be.

The End

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake gvf #sad thoughts #sad stories #if it kills me #jason mraz #jacob thomas kiszka

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