Holding on...

There was no more air in his lungs; oxygen had escaped him, his diaphragm quivering in defeat as he flipped his phone closed. For the last time she had broken his heart. She whom he would walk over fire and swim any ocean for. Yet it would just never be enough for her. How can he be lost when he’s got nowhere to go? Thoughts flooded with anguish and agony, left alone disgraced and discarded by those who he loved. Once again he is stuck pondering, stuck thinking about what could have been. Will this perilous struggle of the heart continue to defeat him or would he ever overcome?
Tears sprung to his eyes as the truth of what she said just sank in. She was gone, probably forever. What should he do? Run and try to get her back like in the movies, or sit on the stoop and sob for his loss and mourn his partner. There would be nothing left for him, she lived with him, she smiled with him, she laughed with him, and now there was nothing left but the scent of her on his pillows and her nail polish from the night before resting seemingly serenely on the coffee table in the living room. The lavender walls they painted together when they first moved in together. She chose the color for the living room and bedroom and he got the rest. Of course he chose the same for the rest of the walls. He was happy, eternally trapped in a paradigm of bliss and he didn’t care. The colors of the walls were meaningless then and now they are a haunting reminder of this unexpected turn of events.
Was his love not enough for her? What kind of person could probably be more attentive or take better care of his angel. Who could possibly dedicate their lives to someone more so then he already had been doing. The past 3 years were the best of his life and everyday was better. Just waking up to her smiling face in the morning and kissing her goodnight before bed. There was something so fantastic, so unbelievable about the little things that he took for granted. If only now he wished he could hold her once more and kiss her and let her know how much he cares. What would he do, die alone? Hardly.
Instead of waiting for his life to become a romance story, he would make a romance story into his life. All he knew was that he loved this girl and that she held the key to his eternal happiness. His keys and his wallet are the only thing decides her he needed for this excursion. As he sprints out the door hands seem to grab him and restrain him.
“Secure him he’s having another episode. It appears to be the same one as usual. Very well grab the lithium, he’ll need more.” The trainees grabbed and slipped him into a straight jacket. The door closes behind the group, the sign over the door simply stating, “Psyche Ward”.