[Young adult Elliot]

Mmn... What was I doing, again? Ah, right. I was supposed to tell the tragic tale that is Elliot.

You see, Elliot had a crush. Little Elliot really, really loved this crush. And so did they. And so; they dated. But, as you know, nothing lasts forever.

They parted, and it was messy. He showed up at your door at an ungodly hour of the night, eyes red with tears. You comforted him, ofcourse—it was only the right thing to do.

Now you were both on your bed, the lights dimmed, and a mountain of used tissues on Elliot's side. He just finished ranting about the break-up, and was now staring pointlessly yet with conviction at nothing in particular. Almost mindlessly, you said,

"It's alright, it'll get better. You'll forget all about them in no time. You'll get over it."

There was silence. Then, without turning his head,

"I don't wanna feel better."

He muttered stubbornly. Was he thinking straight?

Now almost lifeless, he continued to mutter.

"Someone loved me, someone fucking loved me, and I fucking loved them too."

You watched in pity as he crumbled into a fetal position, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Goddamnit, I was worth something."

His voice faltered towards the end. He sunk his face into his knees.