Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

(Song for Please Don't Say Goodbye sequel—Blair's POV)

I took my love, took it down

Climbed a mountain and turned around

And I saw my reflection

In the snow-covered hills

'Til the landside brought me down

Oh mirror in the sky, what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changing ocean tides,

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changing

Cause I've built my life around you.

But time make you bolder,

Even children grow older

And I'm getting older too

Well, I've been afraid of changing

Cause I've built my life around you.

But time make you bolder,

Even children grow older

And I'm getting older too

Oh, I'm getting older too

Ah, take my love, take it down

H, climb a mountain and turn around

And if you see my reflection

In the snow-covered hills

Willl the landside brought you down?

Oh, the landslide bring you down

Those Damning Words

By Owlet and mcvey

I have to. I can't, but I have to. It's not something I can control anymore. Not like I ever could; I mean, it's only cause Jim's so totally clueless about this kind of this that I've been able to hide it for so long. But Jim has this one huge blank spot in his mind, and it's labeled "Emotions." He doesn't understand them, doesn't trust them, and would be completely thrown if he knew how I felt about him. He'd panic. After all, every single person in this world who was supposed to care about him, love him has hurt him—his father, Stephen, Carolyn, even the people he trusted like Lila and Jack. They all hurt him, so badly that he's still bleeding from it. And now I can't hide anymore.

I love him too.

He's not going to like this. All I can do is hope that he can see past it, through it, and see that love doesn't have to hurt.

I'm just scared that he's not going to be able to. He's all I have, everything in my life that makes it worth anything; if he rejects this, what will I do? Can I be strong enough to take it, so whatever I have to do? Even leave? I don't know. This scares the shit out of me, but I can't hold back any longer. I *can't*--it's not even a choice anymore. I have to tell him. Tonight.

He's home.

*****

He hasn't said anything. I'm not sure what I expected him to to, but—he looks empty. Cold. Achingly alone. He's just standing there, not looking at me, and his eyes are like a kind of hell, shock and increduality and despair and anger—a terrible, soul-killing rage I've never seen before. But mostly despair. And just a little betrayal.

Oh god, I wish I could have kept my mouth shut. My, partner, my roommate, my *best friend,* looking like being told that I love him had just signed his death warrant. He's shut me out, all the way, and I can't get in. But I couldn't stop then, still can't.

Rejection. I never guessed it was going to hurt so damn much. I knew he wouldn't react well to this, I *knew* it, but this—this is a nightmare. Worse. No dream could ever hurt as much as seeing the reality of his rejection in his eyes, his stance. I feel torn up inside,hope bleeding away. His eyes are like steel, cold and sharp, but it's their sheer *absence* that makes me realize what it means to die of a broken heart. It's like he isn't even there anymore. Jesus, what have I done to him?

Yeah, broken's a good word to describe this. I *feel* broken; this feeling of emptyness and bleakness is enough to make me cry. I haven't cried since the Golden, when I thought the Fire People were going to hurt Jim. Now I have to close my eyes to keep him from seeing the tears that want to come.

I have to leave. Now. Jim can't handle this, he's freaked and running scared. He's as badly torn as I am, and the knowledge that I've hurt him worse than the others ever had makes me want to be sick. But I can't just go back to my room, unsay those damning words, ignore this all and pretend it never happened. I gambled, and I lost. Or we lost. But things can't ever go back—and Jim can't be with me now, maybe not ever. Everything about his screams it.

He's shaking so hard, I don't think he even notices.

Oh god, I have to get out of here. I'm killing him, one word at a time; the words seem to still echo in the loft, repeating over and over. Quickly, quickly, grab some clothes, a duffel, a book, the laptop, just dump it all in, have to *get out now.* I feel like I'm sleepwalking, and though my nind's racing, my body is moving like an old, old man.

Come back out, don't look at him, you'll never be able to leave if you look at him. God, Jim, please, say something. Ask me to stay. Look at me, touch me, don't let me do this. Don't just stand there and let me tear our lives, our friendship apart!

I can see now why he's shaking. The loft seems so large and empty all of a sudden. It's so cold now.

But he's not going to say anything. He can't, he wouldn't be the man I love if he could. But god, do I want him to. Jim, I hope you can deal with this someday, I hope you can learn to accpet it—I hope you can let me back in. I hope. But right now hope's a commodity in precious short supply, and I just watched all mine crash and flame away.

I can't stay and wait. It would break me for good.

"Sorry, man." Did he flinch? I walk out the door and shut it very quietly. And all there is left to do is just walk away.