~ stepping out of the door ~

He meant it every time he told her that he loved her. In his blank, non expressive eyes, his still face, his heart skipped a beat each time the words slipped out his mouth, “I love you”. But that was not enough for her, it’s been a few weeks, he’s heard it more than he can count, “he never loved her”. He tried to put it all behind him and still tries to be there for her with everything that she is going through but it was falling apart. He didn’t know how else to remind that he loved her, or even how much he loved her. Sometimes he didn’t want to remind her about them. He tried not his best, but he tried to make it work out between them. He needed her more than she needed him, he wished he had told her all that, but being so to himself, he never told her enough. Each time she puts the blame on him, his mind keeps playing “put the blame on me”. He wanted to suck away all her anger, her pain, her guilt from her into him. He wanted to let her free just like she wanted to be. He was never going to say anything back to her. He just took it all into him.

Weeks pass, still the finger pointing at all the things he hadn’t been for her, he hadn’t loved her as much as she loved him. Every word sent a cold sting up his spine, freezing each time she spoke of all he was not for her and how he had made her leave him. He never wanted her to leave; he only knew she deserved more, something he couldn’t give her at that time. He doesn’t want to regret, not yet, that he didn’t stop her. It’s a choice she chose he thought, for which he said he would be there for her no matter what happened between them. He had lost the most important person in his life, he feels a strong blunt spike into this heart, he does not know to reply to her, only to watch her type away her anger, her disappointment, her misery of the time to be without him and the decision she was forced to make in that tiny little blue window, the window might be tiny, but it was the world for them.

He couldn’t live with the guilt; he wanted her to move on from the blaming and all that has happened. Both have started seeing each other in a different way, a whole different way that they have not seen each other. She meant a lot to him now, more than before, even when she left him. But he wouldn’t tell her anything. Only in his mind does her miss her more than ever, he wanted her back, but the words were not meant to come out, for it was too late for him to say anything now. She pushed him to the limits beyond anyone else has, he tried to keep everything inside him, he bottled it all up, sulked in his own solitaire of loneliness which not many knew of. He lived every moment from the day she left him thinking about her, he wouldn’t tell her, for she is far away than ever and didn’t want him. She thought he wouldn’t stand a chance to fight for her. She even told him so many times, “you didn’t want me, you never wanted me”. Every time she said that he wished she would hear her own self those words, but only returned only silence. He was not going to fight anymore. His heart now cold with the love he had for her, the memories of her to last for eternity. He meant to let it all go, give into her and absorb everything that she wanted to let out.

Days pass by, less spoken between each other, starting with a caring “hi” turns to heated finger pointing of all that she is going through cause she had to leave him and having to go through it alone. At every popup message in that tiny little window, his fingers starts to tremble, his mind not steady anymore to keep up with her. He wanted to just close the window and leave without even telling her, but he couldn’t, he was too weak for her. He couldn’t hurt her anymore; he promised that he would be there for her no matter what. He thought a promise that he would give his everything to keep. He didn’t know where to draw the line of being her ex-boyfriend, a friend in any case, he had gone passed a level from being just a friend, to a boyfriend, even more than she would ever know. His thoughts no longer clear, a tear at the corner of his each time he thinks about her. He said it too many times inside his head “she is gone, it’s your fault, and what are you crying about now”. He could never answer his own question in his. He blindly trusted to be his forever; time taught him another lesson “no one lasts in your life forever” and this was the endless time that he lost something he cared about. Nothing hurt like this one, he’s been hurt, he was starting to get use to it, until she turned up, “it’s going to be alright”, and he doesn’t know what it all means to him anymore. His nights was filled with her voice in his head, one voice asked for the voice to be out of his, while another longed, cried to hear her voice over and over again in his head. He was no longer the one who can keep her voice, he thought to himself “it’s time to let go, she is no longer yours”.

On another lonely friday evening, his eyes glued to the large screen in front of him, but his mind just wondering elsewhere, thoughts about her run wild in his head, he couldn’t control it anymore, burst into soft cries, he eyes could not hold back the tears that were flowing out. He felt weak for crying out; he felt that he is left with nothing now, no meaning, no purpose, crashing his fist hard to the wall to his side, a loud thud, he did not feel any pain in his bleeding knuckles, another one follows and another like a boxer in a rage title match, throwing his last punch to win by knockout keeps jabbing his fist into the wall, he didn’t not feel anything yet for the pain in his heart and mind was too much. He stops after few spots of blood on the plain cream wall, looks at his knuckles bleeding, the skin peeled off, his sobbing calming down slowly, tears run dry on his cheek now. He couldn’t keep it inside him anymore; he needed a drink, a strong one. Picks up his phone as he scrolls down to a name he was too familiar on a friday night, sends a text message “you heading out tonight? Could do a drink, you up for it?” he didn’t wait for a reply, he picked up the towel, headed to the shower, as the cold water runs through his hair, trickling down his spine and on his face, waiting to wash the tears away, soft sobs taking over his body, couldn’t control it, lets out with the water running on his body. Throws his head back, letting it wash away it tears, closing his eyes, memories flashing in his head, making him remember of a weekend, a cold shower he would never forget in his lifetime, opens his eyes in a fast motion, like a nightmare, with the water running to his eyes making them hurt as he closes it once again and the flashes of images in his head of the shower once again.

Drying himself off the cold water, goes to check on his phone, 1 New message, picks up to read, “anytime for you hun, meet you at the club at 11”, puts it back on the table, checking the time, just about right time, pulls out his red sweatshirt, his bleached out jeans and his favorite baller shoes. Just as he gets ready, his phone starts blinking, 1 New message, “I’m already here”, puts on his shoes in a hurry as he dashes out of his house for the cab that is on his waiting. Gives direction to the driver short and to the point. Never liked the small talk except for the few regular drivers the cab company sent on his request, this one was a new one. His patience was wearing thin, just about when he was around the corner of the club. He gets outs to get into the club, walks in to find a lot of familiar face. Walks himself to the bar as he sees the familiar bartender on shift, no time for pleasantries tonight he thought to himself. “make it a stiff one” he said with a sly smile. He didn’t care who was there, who wasn’t, he needed his drink tonight, anything else is just a bonus he thought. Looking around as he take a long draw on the glass, his eyes scrunch, cheeks tighten as he send the poison down his throat sending a burning sensation an turning around to have purple laser lights going right across his eyes making him squint, flashes of colors in front of his as he asks the bartender to get onto the second one. Picks up his phone as he feels it vibrate, another alert, 1 New message, “where are you?” as he replies, “at the bar, come over.” Slips it back into his jean pocket and drawing another short draw on the poison in his hand.