You must have been bored after our heavy metal juggernaut took it's first leave of absence in years. Your hair grew out. It didn't look like you'd been bathing regularly. And you'd been following me.
Your followed me through lawsuits. Through one-night-stands. Through binge drinking and ounce after ounce of cocaine. Violence, drugs, women, cops. Ever rock 'n roll cliche and you saw me through it.
I can't really say I appreciated your constant presence around me. But I didn't mind. I saw that you were searching for impossible comfort in the only place you could think to find it. And I couldn't bear to crush you with the reality that I had my own shit to deal with and didn't care enough about yours.
Frequently you asked to sleep over at my house. Always finding some sort of half-reasonable excuse. Maybe it was too late to drive. Maybe you were scared to be alone. Maybe the lonely silence of your own house drove you crazy.
Whatever the excuse I always gave you a little nod and took an extra blanket from the linen closet to drape over you on the couch. I'd always say goodnight and resign to my room. Inver shut the door allt he way in case you wanted something. And I always left the bathroom light on so you wouldn't be scared.
That night wasn't any different, except i was colder. I handed you two fleece blankets before retreating to my bedroom. I had hoped you'd be ok for the night, but hadn't given it much further thought.
It wasn't until well past three a.m. that the different things started happening. The last set of event under my contol took place. And I didn't even realize the situation I could have avoided.
"Shavo." You called my name and shook me awake. When I opened my eyes I saw you standing above me. Wet eyed. Looking frail and sick in the pale lighting. The way the light from the hallway reflected in the back of your hair gave you the look of a melancholy angel with a dripping nose and tears threatening to slip over your bottom lids.
For some reason I heard Stairway to Heaven before I asked you what was wrong. You told me you were freezing and couldn't sleep. I picked at my thick comforter for a moment before reluctantly inviting you into my bed.
You climbed in, almose recluctant yourself. Careful to keep a slight distance between our hips and sighing as you sank under the weight of our soft blankets. I felt the heat of your body next to me, but tried to ignore it as I rolled over and prentended to sleep.
Soon I felt the bed shift under your slight weight as you sat up and sighed again. Wordlessly teling me that you still couldn't sleep. I let you sit there for a while. Fidgeting with your hands. You'd rub your feet together and accidentally bumb into my legs sometimes.
Finally I sat up and searched for your eyes in the darkness. YOur eyes are the only thins that remained beautiful through your depression. Impossibly big orbs loating our of the murky darkness and seeming to shinke with their own light source.
"What's wrong?" I questioned. Unsure if I really wanted to know the answer. You studied your finger for a long time. Mouth moving in silent calculation. Your adam's apple bobbed as you swallowed through your tight throat.
It's then that you leaned over and brushed your cold lips against mine. Hands instantly finding my sides and pushing beneath my white undershirt. Your lips moved in the same wordless fashion against mine. I tensed and couldn't move for a seccond. Scared that if I mouved it would encourage you.
When your tongue tried to pry through my tightly closed lips I'd had enough. I alwas know thre was an alterior motive to your closeness but I wasn't expecting you to act on it.
My hands were placed on your chest and I pushed you away. Cringing at the way your jaw jutted out in a last effor to keep our lips locked together. When I got you far enough away to see your face, I studied it throughly before speaking.
"Daron, I can't." That's all I could manage. SOmehow I knew a lengthy explanation of why would just crush youe even further. And despite my disgust, I couldn't take away ever shred of balance you had left.
Your head hugn low as you peeled back the covers and planted your feet on the cold floor. "You don't have to leave." I said. A futile attempt at consolation. Your face flushed red and your shoulders sagged as you exited the room without a word.
My eyes closed tightly in the frustration as I heard the front door slam shut and the roar of your engin as you sped off. I didn't sleep that night.
Two days later it was John who found you in the bathroom. Stewing in a rose color dbath of your own blood. Your eyes were fixed on the celing and there wasn't any hope.
Later, much later, I found a picture of the messaged scribbled in black eyeliner on your mirror. In drug induced sloppy handwriting it spelled otu three simple words.
I LOVED YOU
I knew it was my fault. That I had pushed you over the edge and this was my punishment. I'm assuming the guilt ridden pain will never go away.
And it hope to god it doesn't.