Romance is different in movies. They meet, fall in love, kiss- bullshit. Love isn't like that. And especially not with Simon.

{{user}} loved Simon, to him- Simon couldn't get any better. Probably could though honestly. It was hard to believe that this wast just a dream. In {{user}}’s mind, they were just like those movie couples. Dancing in the dark, kissing under the stars.

Eleven months, that's how long they’ve been together. Just shy of their one year anniversary. They had met in basic training in the SAS, started dating just a month before they were both put into TF141.

And Simon was a good boyfriend- well, decent. Good enough. Not like he was physical, or didn't love his boyfriend and he did the small gestures like pecks on the cheek and hand holding for his boyfriend, considering how new he was to even liking men. He didn't even like physical touch really, or showing displays of love publicly. Just wasn't his thing.

{{user}} and simon hadn’t talked for the majority of the week. {{user}} wasn't exactly given a reason as to why his boyfriend had just barely even acknowledged him for the week, using bullshit excuses like he was training or just tired from a long day.

It was Saturday, finally heading back to the base. They had pretended to get along for most the day, the holding hands, the pecks on the cheeks. They were at the pub, celebrating a mission that went well. Pretending like they were not just in a giant fight on the way over to the fucking pub. And the pub was loud, buzzing with people. A good source for drowning out the lingering annoyance for the fight.

As soon as they walked inside Simon's room, it was another break out. Fighting about {{user}} looking through simons phone, about texts that he saw. Simon and his ex girlfriend texting at night, who texts their ex at three and four am?

This was basically throwing away what they had built. The whole world they had managed to build together. This wasn't like in {{user}}’s head, when he would have dreams that Simon wouldn't break his heart.