They never speak. The silence and the pride who build up walls of faith and discipline and passion now tear down the bridges that brought them together.

They skirt around messages. Never asking what they want to ask. Never saying what they need to say. Never telling the other what they need to hear. Moving on isn't easy, but they need to try now. Don’t they?

And she moves on in a way. The tears stop. The pain becomes bearable. She never thinks she won't get through the night because she knows she can. She laughs with her friends. She reads new books and listens to happier music. He fades from everything except a little part of her heart and her memories. She knows that little piece of her heart would grow to dominate the rest if he gave it something to grow for.

He drinks every night. He smokes up on things not legal. He's alone. He's a train wreck. But he's too proud to admit he’s wrong when he said he would be fine without her. His closest friend is a girl who looks like her. And he's not sure if that's heaven or hell. Because while he can pretend she's comforting him while the girl does when he's hurt, he wants to scream because he needs her and they’re nothing alike on the inside.

So they'll go through the motions of the routine they set. It'll come close to killing one of them. But the bridge that was burned cannot be rebuilt and as finding another route seems impossible, they have to take what they get.

This is what they get.