His gaze was unsteady as he looked at me, something like defeat lingering in his stare; it was heavy, it was dark, it was breaking, and it was sad. He took a few steps away from me before taking off his jacket and dropping it on the bed, sitting beside it, and running his palms down his face.
It was silent between us. Him with his palms covering his face, fingers massaging the sides of his head like he was trying to keep down his headache, and me at the other side of the room, trying to calm the raging beating of my heart.
Then he nodded and spoke. “I understand.” His eyes met mine as he brought his hands back down, his right thumb digging into the palm of his left hand. “I understand if you want to leave me. I would hate to put you in that position again—I am sorry that I put you in that position—If I could have predicted that it would happen, I would not have—” He stopped, his head dropping as he looked down at his hands and shook his head slightly.
It was silent once more, and my nerves were skyrocketing.
He glanced up at me, eyes sad, dark, red-rimmed—he was holding back tears, trying to control emotions begging to be let out.
He looked back down at his hands, stopping them from shaking by digging his thumb deeper into his palm. The rigid flex of his biceps and the clench in his jaw told me how hard he was trying to hold himself together.
“I understand if you want out. But to be sincere with you… I don’t want you to leave me, Zahra.”
He looked up again, and I caught the glistening in his eyes. “If you leave me, then I don’t—I don’t know what I am living for.” He managed a slight shrug. “It’s not Elia because I had already decided to end it all, even with him in my life. You are my constant, Zahra; if you go, I have no reason to hold back.” A tear slid down his cheek. “I don’t know how long I’ll last here if you walk out that door.”
I shook my head. “You can’t tell me that.”
“It’s the truth,” he said, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “Eres mi vida, Zahra.”You are my life, Zahra.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Eres mi vida.”
“No. No, I’m not. You can’t say that to me when you refuse to protect the life you claim is mine. Not when you want to take it away from me.”
A frown dropped his brows, hurt swirling in his eyes. “You think I want that?” he asked. “You think I want to take my life? I gave up revenge because I chose to be here for you; I chose this, I did, Iwantto live. I had already made that decision when you became a constant, but my mind doesn’t get that I want to live. It doesn’t understand that I don’t want to die. My mind wants to die because it’s tired, Zahra. And I am tired of it; I am tired of my mind.
“I am tired of the person that I am; I am tired of hearing my name. Of this weakness and abnormality, I am just so tired of spending my life being this person who fights daily to be normal. Ilongto be normal. You have no idea how bad I wish you never got to see this side of me; you don’t know how ashamed I am of even being in the same space with you, knowing what you had to go through to bring me back.” He looked down again. “I don’t want you to leave me, but I will accept it if that is what you want.”
I walked toward him, crouching before his body and holding his hand in mine.
“Elio,” I called softly, “look at me.”
He raised his gaze, and I let my hand reach his cheek, wiping his tears.
“I don’t want to leave you either. I want you to let me in. Let me see where exactly the problem is coming from. I want you to walk me through that darkness in your head. Let me in so we can figure this out together. Please, Elio.”
He pursed his lips, and then softly, he nodded.
I sighed in relief as I pushed his suit jacket to the side and took the space beside him.
He intertwined our fingers but didn’t look at me. He was quiet for a while before he finally spoke.
“Sometimes,” he started, “sometimes I have this feeling…” He trailed off, seeming lost. “This feeling like I’m outside of my body, like a stranger, looking in… it doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I become a complete stranger to myself. And anything I do in that moment becomes action… without feelings. Without self-consciousness. I must admit that was how I felt throughout the birthday party.
“When we were together in the shower, I wanted that moment to feel real. I chanted it so many times in my head due to how badly I wanted to make it real… and while it did feel like that for that moment, I lost it again. Everything else that happened… I can’t really remember. It was like a time-lapse in my head. It all moved too fast.”
It was silent between us again… he wanted to say more, and I waited patiently for him to speak.
He swallowed, tightening his hold on my hand. “I see things, too… sometimes. I see my mother, and I hear her voice. When she touches me, it feels real and familiar, but I know she’s not there.
“I also hear voices from people I’ve met and talked to over the years. Sometimes, they’re loud; sometimes, they’re just murmurs; sometimes, they make me talk out loud and hallucinate. I can’t sleep because it brings hallucinations, vivid ones that are… that are of things that I have done… One particular thing… Elia… what I did to Elia.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
A shudder went through him as he spoke. “He was the first person I ever killed… they were able to save him, but… I can’t stop—I see—I see that version of him all the time; hestands at random places all over the house… watching me, taunting me… Sometimes, I beg him to leave and tell him I never meant to do it; sometimes, I just pick up my gun and shoot at him until he disappears. Sometimes I don’t even know if I shoot at him because it’s all in my head, and I am so tired, Zahra.”
“Do you think it’s something medical? Like an illness?”
