Him
You Won't See Me Crying by Passage (Acoustic)
T HE PROFESSOR HAD NEVER thought losing her would hurt this much.
It had been two weeks since everything had blown up in his face, and he had thought he would be long over it by now.
But he wasn't.
The only times he saw her these days were in class, and it fucking killed him, the way she never even looked at him in the eye and spoke only when he specifically called her out. As for their private consultations, she basically ignored all of his summons, and even though this gave him every reason to flunk her, big idiot that he was, he still kept her on the fucking roster and found himself sending her emails from his private address.
If you're going to keep acting like a child about this, then at least email me a copy of your draft so I can take a fucking look. Whether you want to admit it, you need my help. I've attached a couple of articles that you'd do well to read. It should help you, whatever direction you've decided to take with your paper.
But every single one of them had gone unanswered, and her silence flayed him alive.
He knew this was what he wanted. Was how he needed it to be. He fucking knew. But it didn't - couldn't - change the way he felt.
He missed her.
He goddamn missed her.
He missed her to the point that she haunted every damn conscious second of his existence. He would be having a meeting with a couple board members of the university, and she would suddenly pop up in front of him, a ghost of the past, head bowed, knees crashing to the ground. He would be in his private box at the Royal Opera House, and in the middle of someone's fucking aria, the sound of her cries would ring in his ears.
I just want to know why.
Just please tell me why.
Tell me why.
And he would find himself laughing his head off, laughing like a fucking hyena that those seated at nearby boxes had turned to look at him like he was insane.
Which he was , Matthijs knew, since there were times, when he was alone, and he was at his lowest fucking point, he would find himself thinking...
What if I had told her why?
What if he ignored logic and pretended the past didn't exist? What if he did tell her why? What if?
What if he told himself when push finally came to fucking shove, and shit finally hit the fan, it wouldn't be as he feared? She wouldn't wish to turn back time. Wouldn't wish he had listened to her and told her why.
Could you be that girl for me?
Would you still stay?
Would you still be there when everyone else was smart enough to leave?