Extinction

Garrett Nickelsen couldn't remember the last time he noticed someone else. Had it been since he met her? Surely not, what else was there to notice but her? She was too beautiful, too smart, too genuine. Perfect wasn't a word Garrett had ever been fond of, but it was as if the word had been meant for her. Existed for her.

Nobody could know how he felt. She wasn't his to be making these statements, and although it burned inside to swallow how he felt, it would never be fair to John if it came to light. She was John's, and his alone. When he was 17, there seemed hope that he would move past how he felt. Now at close to 20, he was at the point of no return. Yes, he was young and he was sure there would be someone out there that would be able to make him happy, but it would never be the way she did. And he was willing to see her happy, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness. Garrett knew that if he didn't force himself to push past her and everything she did that captivated him, he could never and would never be able to find someone else that would fill the void she had created.

At the same time, however, he felt somewhat stupid. He'd never held her, kissed her, been with her. She was a hopeful thought, a hopeful future he wanted to make exist. She was John's future though, for the time being. And even if she wasn't John's permnanent future, it would never be okay for Garrett to have her how John did, how he desperately hoped he could. John loved her, and she did him. But Garrett loved her too! How was it fair that he stand by and watch the girl he loved fall deeper and deeper into love with someone else? It wasn't, Garrett told himself. It would never be fair.

That is how Garrett justified what he did. His heart was broken from the realisation that what he wanted would never occur. If he couldn't have her, then nobody else could either.