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It is sunrise when Eren brings it up. Not of marriage, but of something more honest.
You had been with Eren for the past four years. Your relationship, for all of your melancholic behavior and Eren’s fiery temper, had been stable. After every failed test, rejected job offer, through birthdays and holiday celebrations, luxury vacations and slow days at the park, it had always been with him. You had been young teenagers, back then, when you first got together.
But now, the conversation is different.
Eren’s trying to meet your eyes. But your vision cannot focus. You wonder if you should buy glasses. Yet you know this is something else, far more sinister than optometry.
In your vision, Eren is fading.
“You’re getting tired of me,” he said.
You snap to attention. “Huh?”
“You,” he repeats. There’s resignation on his face when he realizes that you are blinking rapidly and struggling to align your vision, like you cannot see him. He has realized that you can no longer see him like you once did. “You’re getting tired of me.”
“What?” you ask in disbelief. “Eren, what on earth makes you say that?”
He glances at the sky. You cannot quite tell where you are right now. Heck, you don’t know if you are sitting at the dimly-lit dinner table in your shared apartment, or on the breezy Walls of Trost District—wait, where are you? Are you a student or a soldier? Who are you? Who is the man—the boy in front of you? You don’t know. You’re starting to forget.
But the sun is rising. That, you know. The sun will rise and make all things in the world visible.
“You don’t write about me anymore.”
“That’s not true. I still do.”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same as before,” he said. “You…”
You raised your brows. “I, what?”
Deep inside, you know. You used to be so passionate about him. You spent hours waiting through the boring droll of every day life just to have at least five minutes with him. You used to construct entire worlds for him.
So after the pause, you say, “I’m just burnt-out.”
“Burnt out?”
You’re silent.
“Really?”
You are still silent.
Eren runs a hand through his long hair. You used to love the way he did that, once thought it was oh-so-sexy. “You don’t listen to songs and think about me anymore.”
“That’s ridiculous. I just have my own stuff going on.”
“Your own stuff?” Eren’s voice trembles. He’s always been like that—an emotional geyser waiting to burst. “And—and what about me? Do I even have a place with all your stuff?”
No tears fall. Your defensiveness flares.
“That’s not fair to me. I gave everything to you. I gave up everything for you.”
Eren seems struck, like you had hit him.
“I could have made friends. I wouldn’t have seemed like such an odd person if I wasn’t busy mouthing words for strangers who love you to read about on the weekend. Instead I… I didn’t.”
“I don’t want to be arrogant when I say this, but—you wouldn’t be who you are if it weren’t for me!”
“I know!”
“If you hadn’t fallen in love with me, you wouldn’t be such a poet. You wouldn’t be such a writer. Those words you constructed for me? The ones you spent hours pouring your heart and soul into? They made you successful. And no one even knows. You’re embarrassed of me!”
Now, you are angry.
“Fuck you!” you shout. “Why should I tell anyone?”
“Because you love me!” he replies.
You snap. “You’re not real!”
Eren goes silent. At last, you have acknowledged the truth. You are not in a college apartment or medieval pavements. You are in your head, and the sun is breaking through dawn. Eren is less tangible, his voice a fading memory.
“You’re not real. I am,” you said with a cracked voice. “My life is. I deserve to live a real life after spending it all in my head.”
The first stage of grief is denial. And Eren is in it. His voice becomes ragged, trying to grasp to your remnants:
“Oh—ha—because your new guy makes you happy? The one you got bored of after your first date? You loved me for years!”
“I still love you.”
But you can never love another as long as you do. He will always be your clandestine lover. And whoever loves you in the future will never truly know you unless they know how much you loved him.
“Then write about me!”
“I’m tired!”
“Tired of me?”
“I—I don’t know! I’m just tired! I worked my ass off, okay?” Your exhaustion is palpable. “I’m going through change—I’m going through a lot!”
“Then let me be the one consistent thing in your life,” Eren says, grabbing your hands. You gasp at the familiarity of it. “You know no one can take you from me. I’m with you wherever you go.”
“But… you’re not real.”
He leans his forehead against yours.
“…I know.”
You swallow, and fight back a tear.
“You ruined me.”
“Maybe, but you became better when you loved me and you know it.”
“My friends find me hard to understand.”
“And yet, they revere you for your mind. Which do you prefer?”
You don’t reply.
“Which?”
You still don’t reply.
“Well?”
“Don’t pressure me.”
You will never know a life without Eren. One day when you fall in love with someone, and he will love you for who you are, Eren will sit here in the back of your mind and watch your lips curl in disdain because he is not him.
You know he can love another too. Love someone who is not you. And you are not bitter about it anymore. You will be happy for him, truly. You wrote the two of you to be greater. And someone else wrote him with another to be great as well. But the person someone else visioned and the person you created are different. The other person wanted him to love another. This Eren wants to love you. He wants you to love him.
“How many times do I have to repeat myself? I still love you, it’s just—you’re not my world anymore. I live in the world beyond my head now.”
Eren is aghast.
“Please be happy for me,” you say. You hate to beg, but you do.
“Are you happy?” he suddenly demands.
“What?”
“I said, are you happy?”
“I guess,” you reply, voice breaking.
Eren scoffs. “You don’t sound sure.”
You shrug and look around in your little clip of reality. The dawn breaks and you say, “The world is a frightening place.”
“So why not stay in our world?” Eren cannot understand why you want to leave him. But you also understand that he understands it, too. To break free. To live unrestrainedly.
He’s heartbroken, but he will understand eventually. That is the wonderful thing about your love. You will forever understand each other even when you don’t want to.
“I can’t. I have to be here.”
Here. You are neither here nor there. You are simply where you are.
“Are you happy about it, though?” It’s Eren’s last act of love, slowly letting you go.
You offer him a bitter smile. “The world is more wonderful than it seems.”
“Will you be alright, alone? Can your body handle your soul?”
The question frightens you, but you nod. You are brave. “I’m getting there.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
Eren pauses, reflective. His expression is pensive, unsettling you.
“Then I’m happy for you. I just… we’ve been together for so long.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know life without you.”
It hurts you to hear it. “Me too.”
“You can always come home to me.” Bargaining. Another stage of grief. You don’t know if you will ever come home to Eren again as the same person.
“I know.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“I know.”
“I love you.”
“…I know.”
It’s silent.
Silence.
You can’t say a word.
So, you both remain silent.
Maybe it always has been silent, but you never realized it. After all, it is what you were once known for.
“So I guess I’ll be seeing you less often now.”
“I’m still here.”
“It’s not good-bye.”
“No. It’s not. You know I can’t live without you.”
“It’ll hurt you.”
“It’s okay to hurt.”
“I guess. But you know…”
“Yes.”
Silence.
“I know.”
The sun has risen. Daylight has broken into the sky.