Boys don't fake it.

She sits there in front of the screen with a lost and fornlorn look streaking her face. She wonders what she's done wrong... what she could have done differently. She feels childish thinking such things; no one's actions can prevent love from fading in its natural course. She knows this; yet she knows this not. She wants to run to his arms; to ask him what she should do to solve this problem she's having. She can't. He's the cause of her strife, no, not he, his lack of love for her. He loves her too much to pretend to love her any longer. This last statement shone plainly in his drenched eyes when she stared into them pleadingly. He did it for her own good, and for his. She sees this; yet she sees this not. She wants to appease him, to end his tears and his suffering, and so she goes. She goes to the only other place she knows. She overstays her welcome. She bids them a nasty goodbye. Finally, she wanders away.