“Thank you. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨,” His words are bitter, so sharp I think they could cut me.

But instead of acting hurt I smile, suprised to find myself doing it sentimentally.

“Thank you. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.” I respond.

That is why we are polar opposites.

He thanks me for all I couldn’t give. And I thank him for all he could.

He looks at the scars I gave him, and I look to the stitches. I’ve always admired his darkness, embraced his colors and the way his mind works. Now? Now I find myself pitying him.

Pitying a mind who misses the most beautiful sunset in the world because he’s busy staring at the storm passing by. Pitying the man who missed his own birthday party so he could study for a test over a year away.

He will miss the beauty in the world as he waits to die. As he ponders all the problems he can’t fix. All the mistakes he made. All the past he can’t undo. All the evil he didn’t make.

But not me.

“Goodbye, Finn,“ I say, grabbing the last of my things and tossing them in a bag at my right.

He doesn’t give me a goodbye. Only opens the door and looks away.

But I smile. I leave. All he sees is an ending.

But every end brings something new. And even though I didn’t want us to end like this, I’m happy it happened.

I don’t regret any of it.