But it’s clear I need to take some pills and lay down—sleep deprivation has a way of torturing you. Night terrors on a loop and now sick hallucinations. In my head I see Benjamin in front of me. He’s even more beautiful than the last time I saw him—in a red long-sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans. His hair looks like he’s been nervously combing it with his fingers, and his cute little button nose keeps scrunching slightly with each nervous twitch. I can’t look at it anymore.
Turning away from it—from my own self-created hell—I return to the couch and sit down.
Back to staring at the floor—back to thinking and thinking.
Whodoesa god go to for redemption? I can’t even pray for relief—for help. I have no one to pray to. I miss him.
Almost as if my subconscious was waiting for the thought—Benjamin appears in front of me again. The projection blinks down at me from across the living room and I’d take this version if I could—if it wouldn’t disappear when I touched him.
“Cruel.” I’m whispering to myself, leaning forward, always desperate to be closer to him in any form. “It looks so real. So beautiful.” I can feel my eyes watering. You’d think I’d run out of tears eventually, but they just keep coming.
Projection Benjamin looks concerned for me—looks startled by me. It makes it look more real. More like my Benjamin. He was always startled by me. Upset with me.
“Aaron?” I jump back—my back hitting the cushion behind me. It’s never talked before.
“Jesus. It’sso real.” I’m standing before I can think better of it. If I touch it—it’ll disappear. I need it to disappear.
The walk to where it stands is long—I can’t move very fast in fear of scaring it or it actually leaving me. With each step it looks more alive—more like Benjamin. Its face is screwed up in sadness now.
It’s watching me like I’m a wounded animal, like I’m something it’s observing behind a glass window, and it depresses them.
When I’m standing in front of it, I can hear its breathing—can see its chest rise and fall and feel the air on my face.
“Incredible… But you have to go. You’re killing me.” Hazel eyes are watering—so cruel. So fucking cruel. Slowly—so slowly—I lift my hand to its face, cupping its jaw and hoping I’ll get even a second of warmth before it’s gone.
I do—I do get the warmth. And it’s still here—it’s under my hands, warm and soft.
“What? What is this?” I grab his face with both hands. He’s so real now. I can’t tell the difference between dreams and reality? “I’m dreaming?”
“Aaron.” He sounds soreal.
“Benjamin. I wish you were here.” He’s crying. I even make him cry in my dreams.
“I am, Aaron. I’m right here. I just walked in.” I blink. I let go of his face and squeeze his arms instead—then touch his hair, shove my finger into his mouth.
Holy fuck—he’s real.
I rip my hands away, backing away until I’m across the room from him.
“I’m sorry. I thought I was dreaming.” I’m so startled—so out of it. I’m going on so little sleep, so little food. I must look insane.Fuck.
“I know. It’s okay.” His being here is the best thing that could have happened to me tonight—and the one thing that’s going to spiral me deeper into this abyss.
“What are you doing here?” I ask—watching him, scared of him. I’m so fucking scared of what he can do to me—the power he has.
“Why weren’t you there when I was released?” I jolt as if he’s screamed at me—told me he hated me.
“Why would I have been?” Benjamin’s face twists into something miserable and angry.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I fucking put you there—why would I be your welcome-home parade? Benjamin—I can’t do this. I really can’t.” I watch the anger turn to confusion, turn to pain.
“What are you talking about, Aaron?”
“Ha—are you going to make me spell it out for you? Is that what it’ll take for you to leave?” Benjamin nods, hands trembling at his sides.
I can feel myself swaying just slightly, my vision has a few black spots. Not good. This is so fucked up. Is he checking? Making sure I know what I’ve done—the damage I caused? Because I know—damnit—I fucking know. I taught myself how to swallow the pain I inflict a long time ago. I’m used to taking the mistakes I’ve made and chewing on them endlessly.
