I can remember the first few times we met, it was short, and intense, but none the less, very beautiful. He took my breath away before I could even wrap any sort of protective layer around my emotions. I fell hard for him; it was obvious to any one who spoke to me. I couldn’t hide it, and I didn’t want to. A relationship during that time period was the last thing we, or maybe he, could produce. So we lived out each new day tangled in our own emotions. Lost in their fiery tendrils, and blinded by their icy crystals. Perhaps he was the smart one, refusing a relationship from the get go. Maybe it was only because we were already wrapped up in others. Others who comforted us, took care of us, but never seemed to be enough. I wanted him more than I wanted anything else. It conquered my thoughts; he was all I could think of, all I wanted to think of. Finally we emerged and decided to enter a relationship. It was time, or maybe we were just too exhausted to begin with. I know I unconsciously pulled away from him, I slipped away slowly from his arms. We stopped sleeping together. The thought of being intimate with him terrified me more than I could explain. I didn’t know why, I couldn’t elucidate it. I was scared that things would fall back to how they once were, and he wouldn’t be mine. All I wanted was to hold him. While I was thinking this, and fighting this war within myself, he slowly walked further and further away. Until I finally looked up and all I could see was a silhouette of him, as tiny as a pin prick in my vision. I reached out and tried to grasp for him, even offered myself up to him. It was okay now, I sorted everything out, I understood it, I fixed it, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. It was too late. While I was wrapped up trying to fix something within myself, he was trying to reach for me, and I didn’t see it. He backed off, until he finally took his last step. He was gone. He was leaving me. I tried not to look at it like that, because I know it wasn’t his fault. Its funny, the thing I was trying to fix within me before I finally looked up, only ended up shattering as each new word left his lips. I don’t want to fix it this time.
Our last moments were beautiful, he touched my face and embraced my heart, and I touched his lips and touched his lips. How could I not have seen it? He told me not to think of the things that could have been done, should have been said, but that’s all that has been encasing my mind. I didn’t want this one to end, not this one. I couldn’t repair this. I didn’t know how to live without loving him. It’s been so long, he’s all I really had. I wanted to go back more than I could convey. I wanted to tell him the words before, I wanted to hold him, make love to him, and give him everything that I was. Tell him I was broken and let him help me rebuild the pieces, pick each one up and place it back with his healing touch. I had been so selfish. I hate fear; I think I may hate it more than myself. I hate the question “why”. Why didn’t I just let him in? Why did I push him away? Why can’t I go back? I can’t live without him within me, I don’t know how. I can’t handle this. I feel more broken than I did before. There aren’t just pieces this time, just finely broken glass that I want to tread across. Let it cut and slice my skin until my blood soaks each last piece. Until the pain and confusion stop, until my hands stop shaking and my eyes stop watering. The tears keep washing away the blood on my arms, and I just want to see each drop. I need to know I’m still alive, because I have never felt so dead. Please stop the pain. I begged him. That’s all I knew to do. The words were flowing from my mouth like a waterfall off a broken cliff. Please tell me you still love me, please don’t leave me, please, please, I need you, I’ll die. He asked me if his arms would hurt, I shook my head no. They were the only comfort I knew. I reached out for him and gripped his waist so tightly, hoping maybe if I held on tight enough I could fall into him and live inside him, never leaving. He stroked over my back, and I opened my eyes in realisation that I was still here, and my chest still hurt. I slowly slinked out of his arms and fell onto the floor, pulling my knees to my chest and sobbing into them. He reached up and grabbed a blanket to wrap around me, before joining me on the floor and looking at me helplessly. This time I knew he wanted to do something, but there was nothing he could do. Just love me.
The pain in my chest was becoming more and more predominate. I couldn’t even breathe anymore, and I didn’t want to. I looked up at the ceiling with tear stained cheeks and blood shot eyes, wishing one was able to hold their breath and just stop breathing. It hurt too much to breath. With each rise and fall of my chest I felt a sharp pain within me. My head was pounding, and the room was spinning. Please just make it stop. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me. I limply fell against him and sobbed more. He held me tightly, smoothing my hair, and trying to whisper any words he could think of that would make it stop, make it all okay again. He said it was never okay. With the first touch of his hand, everything stopped. My head stopped pounding, the room stopped spinning, and I was forced to breath fully again. The pain in my chest never left though. I knew it never would. It was my wounded heart trying to beat and pump the blood that I would later empty from my veins. Why wouldn’t it just stop? Everything else had an off button, why didn’t we? I just wanted everything to stop. Please. Please. I took some more shaky breaths before he asked if we could lie in bed. He wanted to hold me, he wanted me to sleep. I knew he just wanted me to stop crying, wanted me to be in oblivion. My sleep wouldn’t stop the burning pain. I would only dream of a boy on fire, with his heart still beating soundly through the flames. He was in an immense amount of pain, melting, the smell of burning flesh filling his senses, but he couldn’t die. The cruel hand of god wouldn’t let him. His heart kept on beating until he fell to the floor and let the blaze enrapture him. At least he’d have the scars to show later.
His arms fit around me like silk against skin, or water being poured into a glass. They swept over me and around me, embracing me until my sobs subsided. He kissed every new tear falling from my eye away, until sleep over came me, and the pain was painted even more vividly than before.
I woke up in the middle of the night sometime. I probably laid there for a couple of hours, just feeling his breath on the back of my neck. Eventually it began to feel like hot flames scorching my skin, I could almost feel the tears begin to rise and form into my eyes. I tried to keep myself from thinking this would be the last time I would ever have this feeling of him, so close but yet incredibly distant. I tried to ease myself from his arms without waking him. I couldn’t face him again. I didn’t want to answer any questions of where I was going, because I didn’t know. Luckily I freed myself with only a small sigh from his part and a shift in position. I gathered up my clothes thrown across the floor. How naïve I had been. I slipped each article on and stood in the door way, just to stare at him. I began to shiver as it felt colder than I had remembered before. I watched his expression, his features, I studied everything I could; trying to place him permanently in my memory so I could remember this moment, and him always, no matter how much it hurt. A couple strands of hair lay carelessly across his face, framing his high cheek bones, the ends dancing across his lips. His arms looked so empty, and I then realised I wasn’t the only one hurting in this. He looked so innocent, so… peaceful. I remember him once speaking of watching lovers sleep. I didn’t appreciate the beauty until now. His lips were parted slightly and he was breathing heavy, I could see each breath as his chest rose and fell. I had to get out of here. Hold me, Please. Stop me, don’t let me leave.
I wrapped my arms around myself as I entered the freezing night temperatures of Helsinki. I didn’t know where I was going so I just walked and walked, until I felt my feet going numb and the tears on my face so close to freezing to my skin. I don’t know how long I walked but eventually I got tired, I wanted to collapse and stay here, freeze in the snow. I wanted the rest of me to feel as cold as my soul did. Eventually, a car came and I hitchhiked with them until I entered Kouvola. I walked around aimlessly until I was steps away from Juska’s house. Hanging my head I walked up to the door and knocked quietly. It took him a few minutes to answer, as he was probably in bed. He answered looking almost as dead and lost as I did. He studied my expression for a few moments before just wrapping his arms around me and pulling me inside. He didn’t need to ask any questions, maybe he knew, or maybe he just didn’t know what to say. I sobbed into his chest, falling to the floor. He fell with me, still holding me and rocking me gently. I didn’t know what else to do. I was hoping each tear would be a drop of my pain trying to escape. I cried until the sun rose, and it didn’t ease or fix anything within me. I couldn’t cry anymore, I sobbed but no tears came out, my body just shook. Juska did everything he could to take my mind off of it, but he never really succeeded, although I didn’t expect him to. Erase me, I don’t want to breathe.