Author: Elizabeth Wilde
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks,
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or the song "Leave"
by Matchbox Twenty.
'Ship: Bobby/Rogue, Rogue/Gambit
Summary: Bobby writes in a journal to work out his
feelings after Rogue breaks up with him.
Feedback: to wilde_moon@...
so I know people are
Notes: The graphic for this story is at
How you make your fact just like a wall,
How you take your heart and turn it off,
How I turn my head and lose it all.
How just one move puts me by myself,
There you go just trust someone else.
I'm guessing I should have seen it coming. I mean,
look at Marie and then look at me. How long can that
really last? I'm the goof off, the class clown. I'm
not the hero. I'm not the guy who gets the girl. So
That doesn't make it easier.
When she told me, y'know, that it was over, she came
into my room and sat down on the edge of my bed, and I
knew right then. Marie has these eyes that you can
see everything in, these big, beautiful brown eyes,
the kind of eyes you could drown in, but you know you
wouldn't mind drowning because they're so gorgeous.
You know it would be warm and soft.
Anyway, she sat down and I could see in those eyes
that she didn't really care about me. Oh, I'm her
"friend," alright. But that's all. And I know it
must have been there all the time, but I didn't want
to see it. The only reason I saw it then was because
I wasn't bothering to hide it. Or maybe there wasn't
anything left to hide behind. So she says, "Bobby,
you know I love you. I'm just not in love with you."
And that accent of hers sounded as good as ever, and
it took just about everything in me to hear what she
was saying and to realize what it meant.
I mumbled something about it being okay and she smiled
and hugged me and left. "We're still friends, right?"
Yeah, sure, of course. I'm friend guy. Great.
What gets me is that not a week later, I went into the
library and she was in there. Not studying. Her and
that freaky-eyed Cajun were in the corner whispering
and giggling. It made me sick. Then he took her hand
and kissed her palm through the gloves just like I
used to. When he did it, though, she giggled and
smiled and gave him the sort of look that I would
literally kill to have directed at me, especially from
her. He kept running his fingers through her hair,
whispering in a way that I knew meant he was probably
reciting poems about how beautiful she was.
The whole time, I was standing there wondering why I
hadn't done that. Why didn't I bring her flowers
everyday? Why couldn't I make my voice sound all deep
and seductive and stuff? Why couldn't I be the hero
for once? Or the mysterious, glowing-eyed stranger.
I'm not saying
There wasn't nothing wrong
I just didn't think you'd ever get tired of me.
I'm not saying
We ever had the right to hold on
I just didn't wanna let it get away from me.
So I knew right from the start that someone like Marie
couldn't stay with someone like me. I'm boring. Too
normal. Or something. I mean, I'm a mutant. How
normal can I be? When I get nervous, I freeze
anything I touch. I could kill someone doing that if
I�m not careful. I try hard to be careful. But I'm
too normal. I'm not exciting. I don't ooze danger
and mystery. Like Gambit. Or Logan. I'm not her
I knew that from the beginning. I asked her anyway.
I couldn�t not ask. She�s Marie, and I loved her the
minute I laid eyes on her, from the moment she looked
at me with those eyes and drawled her name. And she
went. We went to the movies and out to eat and sat
around talking. She was my best friend and my
girlfriend all in one, and it was amazing. It felt
perfect being with her. So we couldn't make out like
other couples? So what! That's why God made those
nice, thin nylon scarves. You just have to be
And saying that makes me wonder just how "creative"
she's been with the Cajun. I don't like the thought
of him touching her, but he obviously is. If all that
fawning they were doing in the library is how they act
in public, then what the hell are they doing behind
closed doors? I never pushed. I never pressured.
And I never got anywhere. And I didn't care. I still
don't. I'd rather spend my time talking to Rogue and
holding her hand than groping with anybody else.
I miss her the way I'd miss my arm if it got chopped
off. Maybe more. I mean, you can always use your
feet to write or whatever. There's no substitute for
Marie. Wow, nice pity party I'm throwing for myself.
Too bad nobody else came.
But if that's how it's gonna leave
Straight out from underneath
Then we'll see who's sorry now
If that's how it's gonna stand when
You know you've been depending on
The one you're leaving now
The one you're leaving out
I'm not doing so good without her. But how can she do
without me? We talked about everything! When those
nightmares Logan gave her got bad, we'd sneak off into
the living room and talk until she got tired. Or I'd
just hold her. Once she even talked me into singing
her a lullaby. It was painful, but she said it
helped. And I'll be damned if I wouldn't do anything
She has to miss me at least a little. "We'll be
friends" apparently means that we won't ever talk and
will try like anything to pretend we've never met and
don't live in the same school. We aren't even
acquaintances. Forget friends. And I miss it. I
miss her. I want things to be the same. Even if we
were still together, though, they wouldn't be the
same. We'd be awkward and embarrassed (or at least I
would be), and it would still be different.
So I watch her. I try to tell myself it's because I'm
protecting her, but that's dumb. Besides, Logan is
around again now, and he does enough protecting for a
small army. I don't think he likes Remy either.
That's probably the one thing old hairy and I have in
common. Sometimes when I'm watching her, I see him
doing the same thing. Sometimes I wonder if he does
it for the same reasons I do. Maybe he's in love with
her too. I can't see how anybody in their right mind
She was outside the other day, walking with *him*, and
the sunlight was catching her hair just right and it
looked like fire sometimes. I never realized how much
red there was in it until then. It was beautiful.
And those white streaks were flashing bright and pure
like snow. And that bastard saw me watching them and
he smiled at me. And I wanted to challenge him to a
duel or something, fight for her honor. Yeah, Marie
would've loved that. It annoys her coming from Logan.
She would have killed me.
So that's all. There ya go, Professor, I wrote in the
damn journal! This is how I feel. I hate losing her,
I hate him for taking her, and I hate myself for not
being the man she wants. Mostly, though, I just miss
Catch Your Breath [my index site] ~ http://www.catchyourbreath.net
"We've always been ready for female superheroes because women want to be them and men want to do them." -Famke Janssen
"Rogue, please. I like you. Don't make me stab you to death with a plastic hanger." ~from Dyce's fic 'The Godless Among Them'
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