Endlessly -4-
I woke up earlier than usual the next morning in order to help him pack. I was trying to drown my guilt with the last act of kindness. And then he would be gone. Forever.
The severity and range of the word made me stop. I hadn't wanted him in my life, but I wasn't able to accept the fact that I would never see him again. I didn't like to think I'd never see him smile or know where he could be and if he was well. He was so helpless he couldn't be on his own.
I couldn't let him go. He needed me.
I ran to his bedroom. I wanted him to know that I wanted him to stay until he was ready to leave. That he hadn't been invited, but yet wasn't a burden. And that I did, in fact, care.
But I was too late. He was gone.
I felt the pain return to my chest. A different pain, but I couldn't quite describe the difference. He had probably known I would change my mind before even I did, and decided to leave to save me his presence. As I walked out of bedroom, I noticed there was a note on the dresser.
Dom,
It was never my intention to be your burden. Because of this, I decided to leave as early as possible so as not to bother you even once more. I baked you a cake before I left, because I know how much you like my cakes and I couldn't think of anything else about me you liked. Thanks for letting me be with you even though I made you uncomfortable. I don't think I could ever repay you.
Yours truly,
Matthew.
My stomach turned. The note had left me more anxious and worried than before. I knew at that point that I needed to find him.
I remembered his words.
". . .and being away from you would literally kill me."
That was part of the curse. I told him I believed in it merely to comfort him. And I didn't believe it. Or perhaps I didn't want to. The fact was, I was terrifed that it could be true, because then that would mean I'd truly never see him again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I began to grow more restless as I realised that I had no idea where he could be. I didn't know what books be liked, what music he played, if his favourite colour was blue or if he enjoyed cloudy days. I didn't know Matthew. I had been so absorbed in myself that I'd never taken the opportunity to know him. Yet he never missed the chance to find out about me, to my benefit. But then he loved me.
And then I remembered the time, the one time I forgot everything that had occured and actually enjoyed Matthew. We had been bored that night. I'd just arrived home from the editor's office and Matt was mending holes in my shirts. We sat, taking in the atmosphere. I took a book down from the shelf and began to read it aloud. Matt suggested we read one of my poems. I refused but he had insisted so much I caved in. We laughed and cried and lost ourselves in deep thoughts up until the morning. Our eyes ached as our bodies lay on the ground, yet we didn't sleep until the sun came up.
I stood still for five minutes, just recalling all the little details of that night. I sunk into such a depressive mood that I shook my head and continued walking.
I don't think anyone ever loved my writings as much as Matthew did. But then no one loved me like he had.
A tear fell from my eye as I saw the workers putting a new window in the little flower shop. The woman who had cried for help looked at me with pity. Was I the only one who hadn't seen the misery in my face? She opened the door and I smelled her flowers. I broke into a sob and began running the opposite direction. It seemed that all I ever did those days was run. The wind blew harder. My stomach begged me to release its contents, and I coughed so much and so hard that my own tears began to choke me. I ran faster. I didn't want to think, overthink, analyse. I just wanted to stop feeling this way.
A rose carried by the wind flew right into my face. She fell to the ground. I wiped my nose as I leaned down to pick her. She began to drift away from me. I followed, instinctively.
To the beach she took me. There, she flew high into the wind and fell into the sea. I ran after her; I wanted to see her floating, in peace, as she died slowly. I wept for her. I wept for my meaningless life. I wept for Matthew's suffering. I wept for me.
A grain of sand was caught in my eye. But then I saw him. Matthew. The rose was out of my sight. He was laying down, sprawled, face down in the sand. The water had gushed into the cells of her petals and made her heavy. He was motioness, lifeless.
I placed my hand on his head and turned him over. His eyes began to open in steel blue. Shifting his eyes all over me, he searched for a clue to understand how I felt.
"What are you doing here like this in the sand? You'd rather be here than with me?"
"I'm dying. I wanted to wait for tonight, for the moon's tides to drown me. You cut me out of your life. I was going to die anyway, but I couldn't bear to prolong my pain."
He cringed in agony with a hand over his abdomen. I gently pulled it away and lifted his shirt. A large, bloody wound extended from the center of his stomach, to his ribs and down his back. Help. Someone call an ambulance. Help. He's bleeding. Help. He has a shard of glass in him.
"Oh, god. . .Bells. . .why didn't you tell me. . ."
My voice was faint and shaky. He held the side of his body as he struggled to speak.
"Because. . .because the only way I can be helped is the only one you can't help me in."
"But you said that if you were away from me, you'd die. And I've had you with me all this time. You can't die. . .I don't understand. . .you can't die. . ."
"Yes, but I'm injured. The only way you could cure me is by loving me. Or at least. . ."
"At least what?"
"At least. . ." The words hurt to speak. ". . .you could. . .lick my wounds. If you loved me, it would not be necessary for me to tell you. The act of loving me in itself would require you to do it."
"Lick your wounds. . ."
"Just leave me here, Dom. Let me drift in peace. The tides are getting closer and I have so many more cuts over the rest of my body."
"But I don't want you to leave. . ."
I began to pull of his clothes as quickly as I possibly could The sun began to set, making me fear for the worst. I ran my hand all over his body to feel for wounds, as the light grew dimmer. He began to breathe more quickly. I pressed my tongue over the largest wound, the one on his abdomen, and ran it quickly over its entire area. It began to close underneath my tongue after a couple of passes. Matthew sat up and placed his hand on my head. I licked his other wounds as he desperately struggled to stifle his moans. My mouth closed on an area of his neck and he pressed himself closer to me. I wrapped my arms around his body as I caressed his back. He no longer suppressed his moans and pulled my head back to kiss me. I couldn't push him away. Or rather, I didn't want to. His tongue felt go good against my own. He opened his legs and I filled the space with my body. His thighs pressed and rubbed against me. I pushed my tongue deeper into his mouth and we both fell back on the sand. He held me down my wrapping his legs around me. His face was blushing and I felt how his back arched beneath me. . .I knew I had to make a choice at that very moment.
"No. I can't do this."
I pulled away from him. I cannot even begin to explain how difficult it had been for me to do this. Yet as hard as it had been for me, I could not imagine how deeply devastating it had been for Matthew.
"Bells. . .I'm sorry, I'm sorry I let it go this far. It was purely my fault. I should have stopped it before."
He sat and looked up at the moon.
"I wasn't expecting it to go all the way, though. And it's not your fault; it's the curse."
"But the curse only applies to you."
He smiled at me.
"Does it, really?"
The severity and range of the word made me stop. I hadn't wanted him in my life, but I wasn't able to accept the fact that I would never see him again. I didn't like to think I'd never see him smile or know where he could be and if he was well. He was so helpless he couldn't be on his own.
I couldn't let him go. He needed me.
I ran to his bedroom. I wanted him to know that I wanted him to stay until he was ready to leave. That he hadn't been invited, but yet wasn't a burden. And that I did, in fact, care.
But I was too late. He was gone.
I felt the pain return to my chest. A different pain, but I couldn't quite describe the difference. He had probably known I would change my mind before even I did, and decided to leave to save me his presence. As I walked out of bedroom, I noticed there was a note on the dresser.
Dom,
It was never my intention to be your burden. Because of this, I decided to leave as early as possible so as not to bother you even once more. I baked you a cake before I left, because I know how much you like my cakes and I couldn't think of anything else about me you liked. Thanks for letting me be with you even though I made you uncomfortable. I don't think I could ever repay you.
Yours truly,
Matthew.
My stomach turned. The note had left me more anxious and worried than before. I knew at that point that I needed to find him.
I remembered his words.
". . .and being away from you would literally kill me."
That was part of the curse. I told him I believed in it merely to comfort him. And I didn't believe it. Or perhaps I didn't want to. The fact was, I was terrifed that it could be true, because then that would mean I'd truly never see him again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I began to grow more restless as I realised that I had no idea where he could be. I didn't know what books be liked, what music he played, if his favourite colour was blue or if he enjoyed cloudy days. I didn't know Matthew. I had been so absorbed in myself that I'd never taken the opportunity to know him. Yet he never missed the chance to find out about me, to my benefit. But then he loved me.
And then I remembered the time, the one time I forgot everything that had occured and actually enjoyed Matthew. We had been bored that night. I'd just arrived home from the editor's office and Matt was mending holes in my shirts. We sat, taking in the atmosphere. I took a book down from the shelf and began to read it aloud. Matt suggested we read one of my poems. I refused but he had insisted so much I caved in. We laughed and cried and lost ourselves in deep thoughts up until the morning. Our eyes ached as our bodies lay on the ground, yet we didn't sleep until the sun came up.
I stood still for five minutes, just recalling all the little details of that night. I sunk into such a depressive mood that I shook my head and continued walking.
I don't think anyone ever loved my writings as much as Matthew did. But then no one loved me like he had.
A tear fell from my eye as I saw the workers putting a new window in the little flower shop. The woman who had cried for help looked at me with pity. Was I the only one who hadn't seen the misery in my face? She opened the door and I smelled her flowers. I broke into a sob and began running the opposite direction. It seemed that all I ever did those days was run. The wind blew harder. My stomach begged me to release its contents, and I coughed so much and so hard that my own tears began to choke me. I ran faster. I didn't want to think, overthink, analyse. I just wanted to stop feeling this way.
A rose carried by the wind flew right into my face. She fell to the ground. I wiped my nose as I leaned down to pick her. She began to drift away from me. I followed, instinctively.
To the beach she took me. There, she flew high into the wind and fell into the sea. I ran after her; I wanted to see her floating, in peace, as she died slowly. I wept for her. I wept for my meaningless life. I wept for Matthew's suffering. I wept for me.
A grain of sand was caught in my eye. But then I saw him. Matthew. The rose was out of my sight. He was laying down, sprawled, face down in the sand. The water had gushed into the cells of her petals and made her heavy. He was motioness, lifeless.
I placed my hand on his head and turned him over. His eyes began to open in steel blue. Shifting his eyes all over me, he searched for a clue to understand how I felt.
"What are you doing here like this in the sand? You'd rather be here than with me?"
"I'm dying. I wanted to wait for tonight, for the moon's tides to drown me. You cut me out of your life. I was going to die anyway, but I couldn't bear to prolong my pain."
He cringed in agony with a hand over his abdomen. I gently pulled it away and lifted his shirt. A large, bloody wound extended from the center of his stomach, to his ribs and down his back. Help. Someone call an ambulance. Help. He's bleeding. Help. He has a shard of glass in him.
"Oh, god. . .Bells. . .why didn't you tell me. . ."
My voice was faint and shaky. He held the side of his body as he struggled to speak.
"Because. . .because the only way I can be helped is the only one you can't help me in."
"But you said that if you were away from me, you'd die. And I've had you with me all this time. You can't die. . .I don't understand. . .you can't die. . ."
"Yes, but I'm injured. The only way you could cure me is by loving me. Or at least. . ."
"At least what?"
"At least. . ." The words hurt to speak. ". . .you could. . .lick my wounds. If you loved me, it would not be necessary for me to tell you. The act of loving me in itself would require you to do it."
"Lick your wounds. . ."
"Just leave me here, Dom. Let me drift in peace. The tides are getting closer and I have so many more cuts over the rest of my body."
"But I don't want you to leave. . ."
I began to pull of his clothes as quickly as I possibly could The sun began to set, making me fear for the worst. I ran my hand all over his body to feel for wounds, as the light grew dimmer. He began to breathe more quickly. I pressed my tongue over the largest wound, the one on his abdomen, and ran it quickly over its entire area. It began to close underneath my tongue after a couple of passes. Matthew sat up and placed his hand on my head. I licked his other wounds as he desperately struggled to stifle his moans. My mouth closed on an area of his neck and he pressed himself closer to me. I wrapped my arms around his body as I caressed his back. He no longer suppressed his moans and pulled my head back to kiss me. I couldn't push him away. Or rather, I didn't want to. His tongue felt go good against my own. He opened his legs and I filled the space with my body. His thighs pressed and rubbed against me. I pushed my tongue deeper into his mouth and we both fell back on the sand. He held me down my wrapping his legs around me. His face was blushing and I felt how his back arched beneath me. . .I knew I had to make a choice at that very moment.
"No. I can't do this."
I pulled away from him. I cannot even begin to explain how difficult it had been for me to do this. Yet as hard as it had been for me, I could not imagine how deeply devastating it had been for Matthew.
"Bells. . .I'm sorry, I'm sorry I let it go this far. It was purely my fault. I should have stopped it before."
He sat and looked up at the moon.
"I wasn't expecting it to go all the way, though. And it's not your fault; it's the curse."
"But the curse only applies to you."
He smiled at me.
"Does it, really?"