angst 1 & 20 with roger (make me cry)
I don’t know if I’ve done enough to make you cry but I cried while writing it (kind of a lot) so I think I’ve done all I can lmao.
A1 “I think we should break up” + A20 “I don’t love you anymore.”
600 followers celebration blurb prompts
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No one ever tells you that you can fall out of love. Everyone talks about falling in love and finding the one but no one talks about what happens when it stops. How you desperately search for someone, something to blame. He didn’t try hard enough or you didn’t or you both tried too hard, put too much pressure on yourselves. It was his work and your work. Late nights, temptations, vices. All of it was fair game, something to point fingers at and dwell on after the dust had settled. Wondering if he would still be with you, lying next to you, if you’d changed one little thing. But none of it was really to blame because no one thing had caused it. Except maybe time.
It comes down to change. People change. They grow and they grow apart. There was a time when you were the person that Roger Taylor fell in love with. And then there wasn’t. And it was impossible to pinpoint the exact moment but, looking back, you suspected it had to do with that last tour. Or maybe that’s just when you noticed it. Tours were always hard, always put a strain on your relationship with Roger. How could they not? Months spent apart, separated by countries and oceans and time zones. Months spent with a constant hum of worry in the back of your head. Worry about his safety and about whether he was being faithful and about being left behind. Easy to block out in the noise of work and the bustle of the day but hard to quiet when you were lying alone in the bed you normally shared. He called frequently and it helped to hear his voice but it also made the distance feel larger. The only time you’d come close to breaking up was during that first tour you’d been together. Veronica and Chrissie had talked you down though, assuaged your fears. And then he’d been back and everything was forgotten as the world was put into balance once more. He pulled you into a hug so tight you’d been lifted off the ground, swinging your legs around as he closed his eyes and breathed you in. It mad everything, the months apart and the list of worries and everything else worth it. It was worth it just to love Roger. To have him love you.
But something felt off during the most recent tour. You were used to it now, the process of touring. You knew how it worked, knew what to expect, knew how to cope. So you could pick when something felt different. Roger still called a lot. Maybe not quite as much as he had in the past but you could chalk it up to a busy schedule and tricky time zones because when he did call he still told you everything they’d done and seen and he still asked you about your day and he still told you he loved you before hanging up. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. You analysed everything he said but found nothing amiss, nothing out of the ordinary. And when he came home, he squeezed you tight and told you he’d missed his girl. You didn’t want to mention your doubts, afraid of losing everything. He didn’t say anything either. You went back to your every day routine – his toothbrush next to yours on the sink, his arms around you while you slept.
There was a distance there now that hadn’t existed before. Or you hadn’t noticed before. More than a physical distance. You could feel Roger clinging on, determined to make everything feel normal and ignore whatever had changed. You followed his lead. For weeks you pretended everything was fine, let yourself believe it was fine or at least that you loved Roger enough and he loved you enough to get through whatever it was. It built and built quietly in the background, well past the point it should have been talked about, until it all came out and sent everything crashing down around you.
“I think we should break up.” He’d said it softly while you were cuddled up against him in bed on a Saturday morning. You had to ask him to repeat himself, unsure you’d head him properly over the sound of his own thumping heartbeat. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to make it work, but…” “Is there someone else?” Your voice sounded small even to you but there was no way to make it stronger without setting loose the tears that were pricking your eyes. “No, course not. Just you. Was always just you.” “Did I do something wrong?” “No, love, nothing. I just…” “What?” He sighed, “I don’t love you anymore.” He kept talking, explaining that it wasn’t your fault and he’d tried to make himself feel what he used to feel but he couldn’t keep pretending. All you heard was a ringing in your ears as your world collapsed in on itself.
That was it. All those years. Done. You didn’t ask how long he’d felt like that, couldn’t bear to know. But you did let him hold you as you cried, whispering that he still loved you just not enough and not in the right way. That you’d always mean the world to him. And then you spent the morning, one last morning, together hiding away from the world and reality. Mourning what had once been, what, up till a few hours before, you still thought you had. It was one final chance to change his mind, soft and slow, tangled in the sheets. Your tried to pour some of your love back into him, tried to make him believe it was a mistake. But, no matter how many times you kissed him, no matter how tightly you held him in you, no matter how long you stayed there, it didn’t change anything. He still left, kissing you gently on the temple as you cried quietly.
No one had warned you it was possible to love someone one day and then not love them the next. Maybe if they had you’d have realised what the signs meant. Instead you felt like you were hit with it out of nowhere, blindsided and left wondering – if he didn’t love you anymore, why couldn’t you stop loving him?
