All or Nothing

I was inspired to write this short story from the song "All or Nothing" by O-Town. As you see, I combined it into the story. I hope you like it, I sure do. :)

I know when he's been on your mind That distant look is in yur eyes I thought it's time you'd realize Its over, over.    J watched his girlfriend Whitney as she stood at her canvas, paintbrush in hand. Her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail and she was wearing her paint-splattered overalls, but he still thought she was beautiful. She gazed out the nearby window, not a mark on the canvas at all. He slowly stood and walked in her direction. He stood behind her and wrapped his well-toned arms loosly around her waist. "Whats wrong?" he whispered in her ear. Her gaze left the window as if coming out of a dream.    "Nothing," she replied. "A little spacey, that's all." She set her paintbrush down and moved out of his grasp. "I'm going for a walk to freshen my mind a bit," she told him, grabbing her jacket and slowly putting it on.    "Do you want me to come with you?" J asked hopefully.    "No," Whitney replied, eyes downcast. "I'll...I'll be back later." With that, she opened the door and headed out. J stared at the door expectantly. Its not the way I choose to live and somethin, somewhere's got to give To share in this relationship Gets older, older.    An hour and a half later, Whitney trudged back into the apartment she shared with J. She found him sitting on the couch. She quietly removed her coat and placed it back in its place in the closet. She slowly moved toward J and sat in the chair across from where he sat. He moved his eyes up to look at her. She pulled her feet up on the chair, looking away from him. You know I'm right for you But how can I find someone who isn't even there? I've had the rest of you, now I want the best of you I don't care if that's not fair.   "How was your walk?" J asked, hoping to to spark a bit of conversation. Whtney nodded as she picked at her shoes.    "I, uh, ran into Mrs. Baker over by the flower show, she says hello," she quietly replied. J got up and walked toward her. Whitney still wouldn't look up at him. He sat on the end of the coffee table in front of her. He reached out and took her hand in his. He gently held it like he always used to.    "Talk to me, Whitney," J whispered to her. She finally raised her eyes. Her hazel eyes that used to be bright and magical were now dark and cloudy. "What's with you lately?" he asked her. She paused, then spoke.    "You tell me," she quietly replied. Because I want it all Or nothing at all There's nowhere left to fall when you reach the bottom Its now or never   J looked at her with a puzzled look. "I wish you could clue me in, babe," he softly said. She sniffed, looked down, then back up at him.    "Its not how it used to be, Jason," Whitney started as her eyes got floody. "You come home and you are either too tired to talk or anything, or you're drunk from being out with the guys." She blinked and a solitary tear streaked down her cheek. J reached up with his free hand and slowly started to wipe it away. Her hand raised up and stopped his. "Don't," she whispered. "Don't make this any harder." Is it all? Or are we just friend Is this how it ends with a simple telephone call You leave me here With nothing at all.    "Make...make what harder?" J asked. She bit her bottom lip as she gazed into his plae blue eyes.    "Its over," Whitney whispered.    "No," J abruptly said.    "It has to, J," Whitney continued.    "No!" J stood up. "I'll...I'll change, I promise. I won't drink as often, as much, whatever. I'll spen more time at home with you. I'll even help you paint." He stopped pacing and looked at the one girl her had loved for almost a year and a half now. She wiped at her eyes.    "Its too later," Whitney said as she stood up. "I'm sorry." She turned around and headed into the room she and J shared. J brought his hand over his eyes. He had lost her. Lost her forever. There are times it seems to me I'm sharin you in memorys I feel it in my heart but I don't show it, show it And then there's time you look at me As though I'm all that you can see Those times I don't believe its right I know it, know it.    Whitney unzipped a lone suitcase she found in the bottom of the closet and opened it on their bed. She opeed the drawers in the dresser they shared. She pulled out her various shirts and jeans and folded them neatly and placed them in her suitcase. When she finished packing she went into the living room and gathered her paint supplies. J looked at her with pleading eyes. The truth was, she didn't want to leave. She knew it was her only option, though. Don't make me promises Baby you never did know how to keep them well. I've had the rest of you, now I want the best of you Its time to show and tell    Whitney set her suitcase next to the door and waited, knowing he'd come. J slowly stood, turned and faced her. She looked up at him. He walked toward her. "So I guess this is it," J breathed,    "Yeah," Whitney nodded. J stepped forward and embraced her in a big hug.    "I'm sorry," he whispered to her. "For everything." They let go and J locked eyes with Whitney. She didn't say anything. He leaned down and softly kissed her. She closed her eyes, knowing this would be the last time she would share a kiss with him. She pulled away and wiped at her eyes in case of falling tears.    "Goodbye, Jason," she whispered. She picked up her suitcase and left, not stopping to look back. Because I want it all Or nothing at all There's no where left to fall when you reach the bottom Its now or never    J sulked back into the living room. What now? His eyes glanced up at the liquor cabnit and he started toward it. The handle was cool as he turned it and pulled the somewhat heavy door open. He pulled out a half-filled bottle and a small shot glass. He poured the liquid into the glass. He drank it down and winced as it traveled down his throat. He went to pour another one when he thought of Whitney. He thought of what she had said. He looked at his hands, which held a part of him that drover her away. He replaced the shot glass, but kept the bottle. He walked into the kitchen and emptied the liquor into the sink. He tossed the bottle into the trash, at the same time, throwing a bit of him away with it. Is it all Or are we just friends? Is this how it ends with a simple telephone call You leave me here With nothing at all.