endings are bittersweet, they don't leave a good taste in your mouth, but they stay on the tongue. when bucky entered his place, it felt empty, metaphorically and actually. he felt like he was in a place full of ghosts just watching him. he sighed. mentally and physically exhausted.

bucky walked to his room, looking at the walls of his room, the floors, the bed, the presence of you still lingers. before the ceremony, bucky gathered the courage to collect all your belongings and put them in one box, picking them up again like they were trash.

he didn't know what to do with them, at first he was going to give them to wanda and pietro, but now that your mom showed up, maybe she wanted them?

bucky didn't know. he wasn't very good at decisions.

he took a seat on the bed, just looking onto the distance again, feeling the cushions as he felt like you were laying next to him. he didn't know how to move on from this. there was no new chapter to be written anymore, and even if it started picking up the ink, it stayed still in the air.

maybe he will get away from brooklyn, maybe he will stay here? he didn't know. again, he wasn't the best at decisions.

something caught the brunette's eyes as he got up from the bed, a piece of paper on the floor. he walked up to it, seeing a couple words written on it. he furrowed his brows and picked the paper up, his name being the first words on the paper.

bucky teared up as he hearted crushed up but smiled as he started reading the paper, a fresh breath of relief and a wave of sadness falling onto him.

again he didn't know how to feel about it. a tide of emotions fell onto him as he started crying again, tears falling on his face. he wiped them off as he took a deep breath looking back into your last message to him, hearing your voice in his head.

for bucky,

if you're reading this, then i'm dead...

it's such a weird way to start, especially since i'm not dead at the time of writing this, and i don't know when i'm going to die when i write this. but that's not the point.

life has fucked me up in many ways. i guess i didn't win the life lottery, haha.

i mean, i'm grateful for what has given me, but i feel like it would've been nice to live in the suburbs with nonaddicts as parents and have a normal function mental state.

....

okay.

well, i'm trying to say is that my life hasn't been the prettiest or glamorous, but when i met you, something inside me told me to try to keep you, not run away from this feeling.

the voice wanted to know you more and have you're around me, but you know. life hates my ass, so i fucked it up in many ways...

sorry, again

i'm glad you were in my life, bucky, and i'm glad i listened because you gave me something i never experienced before, love. i never said i loved you to someone. and saying that you felt comfortable like it was too good to be true.

drugs and trouble always seem to follow me no matter where i go. i don't know if i will die in an overdose because i couldn't hold out any longer, or my body will fail me after years of using.

i perfectly ruined my perfectly booming body by perfectly using drugs before i even hit 21...yay...

i'm funny, i know.

well, i'm just trying to say is that the main reason why i wrote this is that i want you to know.

this is not your fault.

this was never your fault, bucky, and i swear i will punch you from this paper if you blame yourself, i don't care if i'm dead, i will!

nothing is wrong with you, buck, and you don't have bad luck. bad luck just seems to follow you.

you didn't have to save me because i was already saved by the time i saw you at the bar. even if it was just supposed to be a one-night stand, we both knew something about each other, we both knew we craved something more, and that was us.

you have given me the best you had to offer, and i appreciate it more than you could ever know. you gave me a reason to keep going, and i wanted to, i really wanted to.

....

damn.

past tense. right? ha.

again, i still feel weird about this, but it feels right to do this.

fuck, i'm spilling tears all over this paper, god.

...

i love you, james, and i will never stop loving you.

thank you for giving me everything a girl could dream for.

and thank you for never giving up on me.

signing off,

y/n. your brooklyn baby.