“Oh, no. This isn’t fucking over.” I chase him looking to continue the argument.
“The hell is not.”
“How could you say that? You are my fucking pain! You are the one who created this new level of suffering! Do you think that doing that to yourself will somehow fix what you broke? Think fucking again.” My voice roars through the hallway and it’s still not enough for him to stop. He doesn’t turn; his fists are so tight, his knuckles are white; his breathing is heavy, making his back increase in size with every ounce of air he breathes in.
“I’m taking a shower. Unless you wanna share it, I suggest you stop following me. After I’m done, I’ll make breakfast.” He storms inside the bathroom and slams the door shut.
This motherfucker.
Of course, there’s no fucking way I’m going in there— that’s what he wants me to do. Or is it what I desire, deep down? I make my way back to the living room and plunge on the couch. I’m trying to hold my shit together. My heart is beating faster than the wheels of a speeding train. I’m confused.
I feel…
Pain.
Fear.
Tension.
Some of these feelings collide with their counterparts. I want him to stay away from me, but at the same time, I want him close, very close.
Damn.
I just realized something… I’m feeling again, literally. This son of a bitch told me I’d feel again. I didn’t believe him but somehow, he was right. Even if he’s the one triggering these emotions, emotions that are in disarray.Is this love? Is this hatred?If this is love, why does it hurt so much? Maybe it’s plain hurt. No, there’s something else here that goes up and down, up and down, faster and faster.What is it!?I want to hate him, but I can’t. Somehow, it doesn’t feel right.
FUUUCK!
At this point, I’m madder at myself than him. I can’t figure out why in the world I’m so upset. Maybe it’s because he inflicted those wounds on himself to try to level the playground, which makes him a fucking lunatic. Maybe it’s the fact that now we have something else in common— the scars that seem to match the pain inflicted by the same person. And, whether I like it or not, we’re both bound together because of it.What am I doing here?Am I trying to rationalize this to somehow make it sound ‘okay’? That makes me a lunatic as well!
I need some air.
I’m heading out.
I stand up and dash towards the door. I grab the knob, twist it right, pull the door open. It opens just a couple of inches, the wind comes in and hits my face, but an invisible force prevents the door from being completely open.
The invisible force is him.
“Don’t go, stay with me,” he says while standing behind me.
“What for?” I don’t want to hear the answer to that one.
“I need you.” He’s leaning forward, his right arm extended and his hand on the door, closing it slowly. Once again, he’s standing between me and freedom.
Goddammit, he’s so close. Fear sends shivers down my spine. He exudes power, and I can feel it. It’s overwhelming, and my stupid mind can’t bear it. I succumb to him once again.
“Youneedme? What for?” I turn around and see him wearing only a towel at waist level, being held in place by his left hand. His chest is crowded by water droplets on top of his scars; more water running down his face, coming down from his forehead. I want to wipe those off, but I keep my hands to myself.
“I think you know the answer to that one. So please,please, don’t go.” His voice turns to a barely audible whisper.
“No, I don’t know. So, tell me,” I’m begging with tears in my eyes. We’re so close that I can see him looking at my lips. He wants them badly. He licks his own lips. Both our mouths are slightly open. We are quietly gasping for air.
“Are you ready to hear me say it?” I nod with caution.
What am I doing?
His arm jails me between him and the door. Slowly and with some caution, he closes the gap between us. Before I know it, I put my hands on his chest. I need to have some control over this situation. I want him close like this and even more, but on my terms.
He takes my gesture as a sign of rejection and starts to back out with some regret on his face. It only takes three steps for me to start missing his warmth; the distance between us feels endless. He turns around and walks back to the bathroom, leaving me all by myself in this sea of uncertainty.
