I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to get out from under the warm blanket. I don’t want to get out of my house in the early morning cold. But I’m going to meet you.
I’m practically freezing as I shower. But I want to smell of shampoo when you hug me. And I then take a long time trying to figure out what I want to wear. I finally decide that I should take it easy. I wear something you’ve already seen. I’m brushing my hair when I receive a message on my cell phone. It freaks me out. Early morning; I have a date with you; it has to be you; canceling on me.
I don’t even bother to read it. I sit on the cold floor. I drop my phone. I fight the tears. I lose the fight.
The tears aren’t dried yet when you call. I try to keep them out of my voice as I talk to you.
I’m wrong after all. You’re just confused about the timing. You don’t know what time we’re supposed to meet. I don’t know where! We make new plans.
You come to pick me up in half an hour. Will I ever get used to the ugly beard? Something I very seriously doubt!
We can be together for two to three hours while you run some errands. You’re preoccupied. I’m in pain. It’s not a good idea for us to be together right now probably. But it’s Molly’s birthday today. I need to be with you for a while today. I need to feel I’m an active part of your life today. Call it brutal; selfish; call it jealousy; anything. Today, I need to feel that I share something with you; that I’m not a total loser.
What is it with me and my sixth sense?
How do I ask the right question at the right time?
We are waiting for your bike to be ready so we can be on the move towards our college when I ask the crucial question of the day:
- So, when are you going on your trip?
- Sometime in January.
- You’re going after all?!?
- Seems so. I’ve been supposed to book the tickets in the past couple of days. I just try to postpone it…
I wonder when you meant to share the news with me. I try not to take it too hard. You must know I’m hurt. You explain that Molly was going alone. But then her parents asked her a lot of questions and she decided to go with you.
You weak bastard. You’ll never grow up. You‘ll never be a man. You’ll never have any power over your life and destiny. Something that I truly despise you for.
I think I’ll hurt you or myself if I stay. But I don’t want to make anymore rash decisions. Don’t want it to seem like me walking out on you again. I feel I’m walking under water. I feel the air is tick. I feel that it’s filling up my lungs; that I’ll suffocate in a matter of second. I feel I’m watching my soul leave my body. I’m dying again; in your hands; again.
The sad thing is, we just talked about how yesterday helped change our friendship in a good way. How we are closer now; more relaxed; more in love –if that’s even possible.
And you pull a stunt like this on me, the very next day!
I see myself, in slow motion. How rapidly I’m blinking not to let the tears well up in my eyes. How I take off my jumper and sit in my thin cotton shirt in the cold weak sun. How I fold it neatly in my attempt to look calm and composed. How I stand up and offer my hand to you.
- What? Are you going now?!?
That surprise in your voice! My heart is hurting, as much for you as for me. I tell you that I can’t stay. That I need to get the hell out. You, though you say that you can’t leave the place, you follow me. You sit me down. You tell me that you’ll try some more. You’ll try not to go. You have no idea what goes on in my head.
For starters, I hate it that she always gets away with anything; that she always has her way. But I also believe in a cruel, but fair world. There will come a day when you, or people who care about you are not around her. There will come a time when she is left to her own devices. What will she do then? Right now, you protect her and take care of her and do everything her way. You feel you’re doing her a favor. You even make people around you treat her the same way as a favor to you. What you don’t seem to understand is that you’re not setting a very good example. You’re giving her the confidence that she’s right all the time and that she has every right to anything she wants. You make her feel like the world is obliged to please her. You and I both know that it’s not the way it works. She abuses me and disrespects me; I take it all because I love you. So do a lot of others. But, what about those who don’t care that much about you? How about those who are not blessed with as much patience as I am? You ever thought of that? Do you have any idea how someday someone is going to crush her and break her and damage her to unimaginable extents? Do you know that it will be your fault? Your fault for not letting her grow up and take responsibility for her actions?
Where would I be on that day, to tell you “I told you so”?
Then there’s the issue of you, you and your weakness, you and your fears, your and your excuses, you and your.... I wish I knew more about you. I wish I knew more about your past. I wish I knew more about your past with her. I wish I knew what power she holds over you. I wish I knew why you’re so scared of her.
About this trip, you may not be able to force her to go alone. But why can’t you just tell her that she has a choice between going alone and not going at all? Why can’t you tell her that you joining her is not an option? Why can’t you stand your ground?
I don’t understand you at times.
Anyways, in the two seconds it takes me to think of all that, I somehow calm down. We get your bike. We move towards the college.
I’m still hurt. I need you to tell me that you don’t want to go. That you’ll miss me. That you need to be close to me; to see me; every day. As you normally don’t say things like that without my encouragement, I tell you how bad I’m feeling.
- You leave me for that long, not meeting, not talking, I won’t be yours by the time you come back.
- It’s your call!
Why do you have to be such an asshole at times? Is it really that difficult to understand that this trip of yours isn’t simply a trip to me? To me, it’s the symbol of you leaving me. It’s a symbol of you choosing to please her at any cost to me. A symbol of you choosing her.
As usual, we can’t walk in together for fear of being seen and caught. When you drop me off I tell you that I’m sorry. Look how lost you are:
- Why are you sorry? What have you done?
“What have you done” not “what are you going to do”. You have no idea how hurt I am. I need some time and space to think. I need a chance to hurt you. Instead of walking in, I walk on. But in about fifteen minutes I feel sorry for you. I know you can’t follow me today. Not on her birthday. If I don’t contact you, if I turn my phone off, if I do anything that stupid, then you’ll be too hurt. You might disappear on me again. That I can’t afford. So I arrange to meet after college.
Besides, we’ve already agreed to talk about our needs and wants. I can’t hold on to my pride if you’re not smart enough to figure out how you should treat me on your own. Talk we do.
- I know there are things that you can’t change. I don’t have to understand or like it, but I accept it. I just talk to you, I express how bad I feel because I need you to tell me that you understand my pain too.
- I know. I know I overreact. I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel you’re mad at me and that you’re questioning my feelings for you. I feel I have to defend myself.
Talk about miscommunication!
We’re saying goodbye. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to hurt. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m hoping that all these talking will help us learn to deal with this mess better. Will it?
You stand me up in the shadows to tell me that you have to join Molly for lunch. I know that already. I just need some love and understanding before you go. The hug you give me really helps. The rest is talking.
- One more request.
- Yes, baby?
- I want you to see how I’m struggling, how I’m trying, to understand you, to accept your life. I want you to tell me that you know about my pain. I want you to tell me that you know how I feel. You’re a soft sensitive man. That’s why I fell for you. I don’t want you to hide it. I want you to tell me that you feel the same. Tell me that you love me. Tell me that your life sucks if I’m not there.
The pain in your eyes!
- But you should know all that!
- I do know. But I need to hear you say it at times. That’s why I talk to you. Why I tell you how bad I feel. To get you to talk about your feelings too. I don’t say those things to upset you or hurt you. I don’t say them to attack you or question you. I don’t doubt you. You don’t need to justify or defend yourself. You can just open up a bit.
- Ok. I will. I just want you to go home and be ok. I want you try not to think about anything before I go on the trip, if I go…
You already know that I love your eyes. I specially love them when they are tearful. I love the soft side of you a lot better than the smart-ass!
Right now, as you blink your tears away, as you hold on to my fingers, as you caress me with your eyes, I know you’ve never loved anyone the way you love me, never before, never again. I know you. I know you love me. I know you’re mine.
I just wish you would keep your eyes on my face. But you don’t. You glance at my hands in yours. You turn my palm upward. I’m too slow to prevent it. There it is. The red inflamed marks. I wish I could take the pain in your eyes away.
Now I’m back at my place. Haven’t eaten all day. But I have no appetite. I just lie down on the cold floor in front of the TV. I want to distract myself. I don’t want to think about what you’re doing today. I just want to close my eyes. I want to go to sleep. To go to sleep and never have to open my eyes to the world again. I just want to close my eyes.
I close my eyes.
Are you making love to her tonight?
You don’t call it that, not with her. When it’s with her, you call it having sex. Tonight I don’t care what name you give it. Are you doing it? Because it’s her birthday? Like what you did for me yesterday? Are you telling her that you want it to be right tonight? Like you told me? Are you trying to make it extra long, exceptionally pleasurable for her?
Are you kissing her? Are you caressing her? Are you enjoying her? Really enjoying? Or are you just performing a dutiful ritual?
Do you moan with her too?
Do you do everything the way you do with me? Do you do anything the way you do with me? Do you tell her the things you tell me when we make love?
It’s driving me crazy…
Are you betraying me tonight?
Making love, it’s the main thing, the only thing, that I’m the winner at. it’s what you share with me and not with her. What makes me feel I have something special with you. What, it’s what I don’t want to share with her.
Are you doing it right now?
Why didn’t you take my cutters and blades with you? I can’t resist them. I’m going to cut a cross on my chest tonight. To hope for the scar to remain for the rest of my miserable life. As a memorial of you, betraying me…
I’m practically freezing as I shower. But I want to smell of shampoo when you hug me. And I then take a long time trying to figure out what I want to wear. I finally decide that I should take it easy. I wear something you’ve already seen. I’m brushing my hair when I receive a message on my cell phone. It freaks me out. Early morning; I have a date with you; it has to be you; canceling on me.
I don’t even bother to read it. I sit on the cold floor. I drop my phone. I fight the tears. I lose the fight.
The tears aren’t dried yet when you call. I try to keep them out of my voice as I talk to you.
I’m wrong after all. You’re just confused about the timing. You don’t know what time we’re supposed to meet. I don’t know where! We make new plans.
You come to pick me up in half an hour. Will I ever get used to the ugly beard? Something I very seriously doubt!
We can be together for two to three hours while you run some errands. You’re preoccupied. I’m in pain. It’s not a good idea for us to be together right now probably. But it’s Molly’s birthday today. I need to be with you for a while today. I need to feel I’m an active part of your life today. Call it brutal; selfish; call it jealousy; anything. Today, I need to feel that I share something with you; that I’m not a total loser.
What is it with me and my sixth sense?
How do I ask the right question at the right time?
We are waiting for your bike to be ready so we can be on the move towards our college when I ask the crucial question of the day:
- So, when are you going on your trip?
- Sometime in January.
- You’re going after all?!?
- Seems so. I’ve been supposed to book the tickets in the past couple of days. I just try to postpone it…
I wonder when you meant to share the news with me. I try not to take it too hard. You must know I’m hurt. You explain that Molly was going alone. But then her parents asked her a lot of questions and she decided to go with you.
You weak bastard. You’ll never grow up. You‘ll never be a man. You’ll never have any power over your life and destiny. Something that I truly despise you for.
I think I’ll hurt you or myself if I stay. But I don’t want to make anymore rash decisions. Don’t want it to seem like me walking out on you again. I feel I’m walking under water. I feel the air is tick. I feel that it’s filling up my lungs; that I’ll suffocate in a matter of second. I feel I’m watching my soul leave my body. I’m dying again; in your hands; again.
The sad thing is, we just talked about how yesterday helped change our friendship in a good way. How we are closer now; more relaxed; more in love –if that’s even possible.
And you pull a stunt like this on me, the very next day!
I see myself, in slow motion. How rapidly I’m blinking not to let the tears well up in my eyes. How I take off my jumper and sit in my thin cotton shirt in the cold weak sun. How I fold it neatly in my attempt to look calm and composed. How I stand up and offer my hand to you.
- What? Are you going now?!?
That surprise in your voice! My heart is hurting, as much for you as for me. I tell you that I can’t stay. That I need to get the hell out. You, though you say that you can’t leave the place, you follow me. You sit me down. You tell me that you’ll try some more. You’ll try not to go. You have no idea what goes on in my head.
For starters, I hate it that she always gets away with anything; that she always has her way. But I also believe in a cruel, but fair world. There will come a day when you, or people who care about you are not around her. There will come a time when she is left to her own devices. What will she do then? Right now, you protect her and take care of her and do everything her way. You feel you’re doing her a favor. You even make people around you treat her the same way as a favor to you. What you don’t seem to understand is that you’re not setting a very good example. You’re giving her the confidence that she’s right all the time and that she has every right to anything she wants. You make her feel like the world is obliged to please her. You and I both know that it’s not the way it works. She abuses me and disrespects me; I take it all because I love you. So do a lot of others. But, what about those who don’t care that much about you? How about those who are not blessed with as much patience as I am? You ever thought of that? Do you have any idea how someday someone is going to crush her and break her and damage her to unimaginable extents? Do you know that it will be your fault? Your fault for not letting her grow up and take responsibility for her actions?
Where would I be on that day, to tell you “I told you so”?
Then there’s the issue of you, you and your weakness, you and your fears, your and your excuses, you and your.... I wish I knew more about you. I wish I knew more about your past. I wish I knew more about your past with her. I wish I knew what power she holds over you. I wish I knew why you’re so scared of her.
About this trip, you may not be able to force her to go alone. But why can’t you just tell her that she has a choice between going alone and not going at all? Why can’t you tell her that you joining her is not an option? Why can’t you stand your ground?
I don’t understand you at times.
Anyways, in the two seconds it takes me to think of all that, I somehow calm down. We get your bike. We move towards the college.
I’m still hurt. I need you to tell me that you don’t want to go. That you’ll miss me. That you need to be close to me; to see me; every day. As you normally don’t say things like that without my encouragement, I tell you how bad I’m feeling.
- You leave me for that long, not meeting, not talking, I won’t be yours by the time you come back.
- It’s your call!
Why do you have to be such an asshole at times? Is it really that difficult to understand that this trip of yours isn’t simply a trip to me? To me, it’s the symbol of you leaving me. It’s a symbol of you choosing to please her at any cost to me. A symbol of you choosing her.
As usual, we can’t walk in together for fear of being seen and caught. When you drop me off I tell you that I’m sorry. Look how lost you are:
- Why are you sorry? What have you done?
“What have you done” not “what are you going to do”. You have no idea how hurt I am. I need some time and space to think. I need a chance to hurt you. Instead of walking in, I walk on. But in about fifteen minutes I feel sorry for you. I know you can’t follow me today. Not on her birthday. If I don’t contact you, if I turn my phone off, if I do anything that stupid, then you’ll be too hurt. You might disappear on me again. That I can’t afford. So I arrange to meet after college.
Besides, we’ve already agreed to talk about our needs and wants. I can’t hold on to my pride if you’re not smart enough to figure out how you should treat me on your own. Talk we do.
- I know there are things that you can’t change. I don’t have to understand or like it, but I accept it. I just talk to you, I express how bad I feel because I need you to tell me that you understand my pain too.
- I know. I know I overreact. I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel you’re mad at me and that you’re questioning my feelings for you. I feel I have to defend myself.
Talk about miscommunication!
We’re saying goodbye. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to hurt. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m hoping that all these talking will help us learn to deal with this mess better. Will it?
You stand me up in the shadows to tell me that you have to join Molly for lunch. I know that already. I just need some love and understanding before you go. The hug you give me really helps. The rest is talking.
- One more request.
- Yes, baby?
- I want you to see how I’m struggling, how I’m trying, to understand you, to accept your life. I want you to tell me that you know about my pain. I want you to tell me that you know how I feel. You’re a soft sensitive man. That’s why I fell for you. I don’t want you to hide it. I want you to tell me that you feel the same. Tell me that you love me. Tell me that your life sucks if I’m not there.
The pain in your eyes!
- But you should know all that!
- I do know. But I need to hear you say it at times. That’s why I talk to you. Why I tell you how bad I feel. To get you to talk about your feelings too. I don’t say those things to upset you or hurt you. I don’t say them to attack you or question you. I don’t doubt you. You don’t need to justify or defend yourself. You can just open up a bit.
- Ok. I will. I just want you to go home and be ok. I want you try not to think about anything before I go on the trip, if I go…
You already know that I love your eyes. I specially love them when they are tearful. I love the soft side of you a lot better than the smart-ass!
Right now, as you blink your tears away, as you hold on to my fingers, as you caress me with your eyes, I know you’ve never loved anyone the way you love me, never before, never again. I know you. I know you love me. I know you’re mine.
I just wish you would keep your eyes on my face. But you don’t. You glance at my hands in yours. You turn my palm upward. I’m too slow to prevent it. There it is. The red inflamed marks. I wish I could take the pain in your eyes away.
Now I’m back at my place. Haven’t eaten all day. But I have no appetite. I just lie down on the cold floor in front of the TV. I want to distract myself. I don’t want to think about what you’re doing today. I just want to close my eyes. I want to go to sleep. To go to sleep and never have to open my eyes to the world again. I just want to close my eyes.
I close my eyes.
Are you making love to her tonight?
You don’t call it that, not with her. When it’s with her, you call it having sex. Tonight I don’t care what name you give it. Are you doing it? Because it’s her birthday? Like what you did for me yesterday? Are you telling her that you want it to be right tonight? Like you told me? Are you trying to make it extra long, exceptionally pleasurable for her?
Are you kissing her? Are you caressing her? Are you enjoying her? Really enjoying? Or are you just performing a dutiful ritual?
Do you moan with her too?
Do you do everything the way you do with me? Do you do anything the way you do with me? Do you tell her the things you tell me when we make love?
It’s driving me crazy…
Are you betraying me tonight?
Making love, it’s the main thing, the only thing, that I’m the winner at. it’s what you share with me and not with her. What makes me feel I have something special with you. What, it’s what I don’t want to share with her.
Are you doing it right now?
Why didn’t you take my cutters and blades with you? I can’t resist them. I’m going to cut a cross on my chest tonight. To hope for the scar to remain for the rest of my miserable life. As a memorial of you, betraying me…
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