Ending A Short Story

Hello friends, as you've read in my last post I was near the end of my short story. I am in fact, a few paragraphs away (I can feel it.. don't you love that?). However, I'm experiencing a problem. I can't seem to, well, end it. I know how the story should end, but I'm looking for the right words for it. This has always been my "writing problem." I can start a bunch of stories, have the ideas all mapped out, but I have never... ever... finished anything. I don't know if it's fear of saying goodbye, or realizing someone will have to read this and judge if I'm good enough. I thought I'd start with you guys. Mask has already been EXTREMELY helpful with this story by proofreading. I would like some more feedback though. Here's the beginning of the story. Kind of a sneak-peak. If you have any suggestions, do type it, and thank you for reading. Happy Holidays everyone!

Strophic

There is nothing more forgetful than time. It holds our certainty and presents our reality. We are never lost, just appear to be. It's no wonder that we can choose when our clock stops ticking. But we mustn't fall down that rabbit hole, even if it hurts to climb. Walls are our mirrors and we prove what we desire. There are no mixture of words, just truth and fear. But when you have hope could anything be failed? 

"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?" He sighed to my question, knowing I interrupted his thoughts.
"Thinking too much. We need to go somewhere so that you won't have to think."
"I don't just think, I feel."

He could see my eyes begin to roll so he stopped them. "I feel when I'm with you," he remarked, while trying to pull me close to him.
"But it's not enough." I gasped and instantly got up from the bed.

His bedroom felt empty away from his side, as I briefly shook to the still, cool air. Wrapping my sweater around me, I could feel his eyes on my back. I knew what I had said may cause an argument, but I was tired of living in a dream, pretending that things could get better.

"We have to stop living a lie," I admitted, as I faced his eyes. "It breaks us down and in turn breaks our relationship."
"What am I supposed to do?"

His hands lifted up as if I could see all the wrinkles the years will bring. I could feel the ache in his heart as I began to cry. Wishes can only go so far without time and effort. His mind was as lost as my soul felt for him. I wished for him to be free from the piled layers of uncertainty. Sometimes, I feel as though I'm blocking that freedom.

"I will be here, always, no matter what the day brings, but you have to fight with me. You have to," I begged. He fell to his knees and buried his face in my stomach. He gripped my sides and my eyes closed to imagine what it will be like in our future; if there will be one.

"I believe in you, but you must believe in yourself," I encouraged, while my fingers gently caressed his hair out of his eyes.

"I don't even like myself," he whispered and my eyes narrowed to his reality.

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