Promised.

His hands were shaking. His mind went blank. He was shutting down. Fighting. All this fighting. What was it for? He walked out empty handed. All he had lived for was left behind. He couldn't take this. He forced a smile day in and day out, but all he could think of was her. Everything about her. Why'd he have to lose her? What if he'd fought harder? Was it too late? So much going on that he couldn't comprehend.
He cried himself to sleep that night and many after, only to be abruptly awoken by his broken dreams each time. Dreams of holding her close, of what they used to be. As time passed, he became cold to the world around him. He refused to love, in fear of losing others the way he'd lost her. He became happy in his blindsided fantasies. He declared his hatred for her, for himself, and for their past together.
A hole had been created in his heart for this girl, and the only way to fill it was with love or hate. He'd sworn he loved this girl enough, and that the only way to let her go was to hate her. He filled his mind with this hatred, letting it overwhelm him day by day. He tensed at the sound of her name, wishing he'd never heard it. When people asked how he was, he swore he was fine. He felt no love for her anymore. He didn't care about her. He lived life like this, smiling on the outside and feeling pure hatred on the inside. Living every moment in fear, afraid to have to face the truth.
Then the day finally came. His last chance to let go, last chance to say good-bye. He couldn't. He broke. Nothing made sense to him. Why couldn't he let go? He realized what he'd never noticed before. He didn't hate her. He couldn't. He made a promise to her, and although so long ago, it would always be intact. A promise, to never let go. To never stop loving. To never give up. To never stop fighting.
And no matter how much he wanted to break his promise, some promises just can't be broken.