Love in vain

I enter the room and it looks worse than what I expected. It’s as if a storm swept through; bottles of liquor, cigarettes, and rubbish litter the floor and every other surface. Even the bed isn’t immune to your path of self-destruction. Neither of us sits on it, and I can’t help but think of how many times we’d done that as friends and later doing significantly more than simply sitting on any bed, as lovers... But sadly, you put a stop to all of that just after I found out about your pending divorce. You never even confided in me about it. I eventually heard it from one of the crew which was a disappointing shock. I always thought you told me everything, but sorely discovered that this simply wasn’t the case. I still wonder just how many secrets you’ve kept hidden from me all these years.

When I finally gather up the courage to look at you, your hair falls in front of your face again as you stare down at the carpet. You sniff and your hand comes up and disappears underneath to wipe away what I can only imagine are tears, and although seeing you this way crushes my heart, you still look as beautiful as ever which makes this all even worse. I miss you so very much. I miss the person I thought I used to know and, worst of all, I still want you...and hate the fact that I can’t have you.

I sigh hopelessly and rise from the chair. Nothing I say will ever change what’s happened to us...or to you. I’ve tried to give you space so you can sort everything out, but now it’s become impossible to silently witness your steady downward spiral. And at the same time, I want you so badly I can’t think straight.

“Goodb-,” I simply cannot bring myself to say that final word to you. It would mean I’d never see you again, and at this point I’m not certain just whom that would damage more greatly, “Goodnight, Simon.” My voice cracks and I sigh wearily and walk as if in a daze to the door until I feel something touch my shin. You’ve reached out to stop me and I immediately come to a halt.

“Robert, please...” Your voice trembles, “Don’t go... Please...”

“Simon...” I whisper and kiss you again. Your lips part for me almost instantly and then out of instinct and sheer desire, my tongue slides inside your mouth and you moan. At that very moment, a rush of want and greed push me further and when my hands travel down your warm body I’m caught off-guard, astonished at just how thin you’ve become; your ribcage and hipbones protrude from your slight frame under my fingers. It’s a reminder of what you’ve done to yourself...a reminder of how everything is just so different anymore...

And at that thought, I try pushing myself back, but you hold on to me, gripping my shirt and you bury your face into my chest, pushing me backward until I’m slumped down on the floor against the side of the bed.

“Robert, please... Please stay with me...” And just the way you utter those words through your quiet sobs into my shirt...just the way you plead with me; I’m powerless against it.

My mind begins to piece together just what’s happening and I feel a twinge of resentment growing at your cold and obvious dismissal of me. As you stand unsteadily, catch your breath and tearfully rummage through your bag for your poison and needle, I finally conclude that what I thought was a glorious and blissful moment...one of hope, tenderness and sweet desperation, was now deliberately reckless, hollow and vulgar...and all your fault.

I stand and pull myself together, hardening my heart one final time, and a streak of cruelness bubbles over.

“Don't bother turning up tomorrow.” My voice shakes and my throat tightens, “Go get your passport.” I order, and my head throbs with a dull ache as the one word I thought I'd never utter now slips out with ease, “Goodbye.”

You don't say a word, only a sharp intake of breath, but it's just as well—that's just what I expected.

I can no longer look at you...and as I walk past I suddenly shove you forward into the bedside table, hearing you topple into it, hitting the wall with a thud as I leave.