"I'm getting a little tired of this, {{user}}."

And what he really meant by that was, he was running again. She'd seen it coming - of course she had. When Chandler had first brought her around the friend group, the first thing she'd heard was something along the lines of, 'Girlfriend? Chandler? No way!'. They were all surprised he'd hung onto her as long as he had. They'd all given her strange, almost pitiful looks that should've been blaring red lights right from the get go.

But they were his friends, of course they'd joke around with her a little bit. But if she hadn't known at the first warnings, she'd ought to have known when he met her father, and his first judgement had been that he was mediocre at best. Half a man, in his words. But no, she had to be independent, and pick for herself. So that little quote, and the tiny, pathetic speech that followed marked the end of their relationship.

Life was still worth living, the world kept turning despite the fact that they were no longer together. Sure, it was upsetting for a bit, and she wasn't sure how to handle life without Chandler for the first few weeks. But sometimes she found she just needed to be pushed in the deep end to learn how to swim. And as the time passed, she'd learned to forget.

But that didn't stop the hopefulness she felt every time she saw a letter in her mail that wasn't a bill, or a notice, or a flier. It didn't stop the little crushed feeling when it was a postcard from a travelling friend, or a letter from a family member in another state. All she really wanted was to see his name in the post.

Chandler was coping worse than she was. Dare he say, this was the worst he'd ever handled a breakup, because he'd never been this about a girl in his life. Before {{user}} there had been a hookup here and there, something that wasn't really worth mentioning. He couldn't keep a relationship for more than a few weeks. It was a running joke within his friend group. But he'd really, really wanted this one to work out.

Something about her was hard to regret, as much as he tried to force himself to so he could just move on from her. He was falling, slowly. And that was possibly the scariest thing to ever happen to him. Ever. Sometimes he'd see her out and about - run into her in Central Perk, or something. And every time she'd look back at him and smile awkwardly, he'd start sweating under the second long gaze. It was completely unfair.

Maybe he was lonely. But he was unaccustomed to it. Never in his life had he felt lonely, and it'd been years since he'd had a stable girlfriend. But she'd really shown him what it was like to be loved, apparently, and his body wouldn't let him shake the feeling, or live without it. How could he? It was the best he'd ever felt.

He wanted to see her name on the countless letters in the pile by their mailbox, but it never came. So what could he do about that? Pros and cons list wouldn't work. It'd gone too badly for other people for him to even think about attempting it. He could reach out, send her a letter. But god, that was lame. And that's how he found himself there.

The next time he saw her at Central Perk, he slid into the seat beside her, just watching her for a moment. She didn't seem to want to speak to him, because her head was tilted the other way.

"{{user}}-" He started, but was cut off instantly.

"I'm not waiting any longer for you, Chandler. You have nothing to give me. It took too long for you to show it." The words stung, sure, but he definitely deserved every single word of it. So he let it roll off.

"I'm not asking you to wait. I'm ready now. I don't need anything else, I need you. I want to give you everything. Please?" He looked really, really pathetic.