I Know I'm Supposed to Love You.

It would just be so easy.

The fronts of his sneakers graced the edge of the roof so easily, that it made him believe it was a sign. The cold wind from the city below roared up and on toward the heavens, and the man breathed in the dirty, lively vibe that the never resting scene below brought. He was bored, so bored, of the same things going wrong. He was sick and tired of the depression dragging him down so low that it was as if the light never existed.

The man tried to convince himself that it would be better this way, so much better. His family can sleep easy knowing he won’t be around to burden their thoughts any more. His friends can put those fake smiles and pathetic attempts of caring to rest, burry them along with his lifeless body. He was giving up, this wasn’t the first time this had occurred, but he was sure it would be the last.

I’ve already given up on myself twice, third time is the charm, third time is the charm.

He shuffled closer, just a little closer, and tried to clear all worries from his thoughts, but the voices laughed in their malicious voices, and jeer at his antics, as if this was all just a game. The voices have never stopped taunting him, what made him think that in his last moments of breathing, it would be any different?

In a sense, that thought brought comfort, and a twisted smile is made out of his chapped lips, a smirk, if anything. He’s left money on his hotel bed, to pay for the room that helped him with this decision. He’s left a rushed suicide note on the dresser, in case anyone wonders what happened to that dude that just never seemed to make it. He tried to imagine the shocked look on the faces of those who knew him, tried to feel that satisfaction when they realized it was all their fault, but instead, the blame and guilt got snagged on his heart, and second guessing jumped into the picture.

Threw all caution to the wind, but I’ve got a lousy arm.

“Get down from there, before you do something really stupid.” A voice, no, the voice he tried so hard to ignore drifted over to him from somewhere behind his head, but he refused to look, refused to give in.

He closed his eyes, swallowed his heart, and imagined the feeling of absolute freedom he would receive after taking one small step. He didn’t need to be held back by an insignificant voice that belonged to an insignificant person.

“Why? What will this achieve, Peter? Will this get you that revenge you keep thinking about?” The voice was getting louder, and he had to scream his thoughts in order to shut it out. The voice was bringing realism into the picture, he didn’t want that. He wanted this to be impulsive, no doubts, no second thoughts.

Figured on not figuring myself out.

“I know you can hear me. For fuck’s sake, just get down. If this is some sort of stunt to get attention; to feed your self-esteem and kiss your ego, then you are more of a stupid bastard than I thought.”

That could not be ignored. He could feel the blood curdling in his body, feel the rage roaring inside his ears, everything else blocked out. He was serious about this, this had nothing to do with attention or revenge, this was him, giving in, and all the younger boy could do was abuse his decision.

He stepped down off the ledge, turning around with fists clenched, ready to bash that son of a bitch’s nose through his skull for saying all that bull shit, when he noticed the younger’s eyes. The words were empty, they held no feeling or truth to them, but were merely said out loud to pull the older away from edge of his death, and it worked.

The younger placed a hand on fist that was held shocked in mid-air, the warmth rushing through his finger tips, and gently pushed it away.

“Talk to me.”

This broke him. Those words alone were enough to reach under his skin, pull away all his defenses and leave him open, vulnerable for the eyes of the younger man.

“I just... this all means nothing! Anything that ever mattered to me has fallen away, and now I am left in this meaningless nothing, I am nothing!” His voice cracked, lungs wheezing with the pressure of this confession.

“Bullshit you are!” The younger cried, his eyes glassy and fingers twitching. “You are everything but nothing! You are just too goddamn stubborn to see it! You mean so much to the world, to your family, your friends, to me.”

“Just shut the fuck up! Shut up!” The older boy screamed, his ribcage convulsing with the force behind those words as he sunk to his feet, his fists pressed into his eyes to stop the tears, the ultimate sign of weakness.

“I am nothing. I don’t deserve the luxury of breathing.” He tried again, his breathing loud.

“I think that is the most pathetic excuse for wasting a perfectly good body made by the Lord,” The younger boy whispered, crouching close to the other’s shuddering frame in an attempt to calm him.

The older boy let out a loud, sarcastic laugh. “Fuck you, you know I don’t believe in that shit – you don’t even believe in that.”

The younger boy sighed in defeat. “I know, I just wanted to distract you.”

The older boy was away from the ledge that would ultimately lead to his death, what more could he distract him from, for now at least?

“Why?”

“So I can do this.” The younger boy leaned forward, and placed his pink, perfect lips on those of the older boy’s. It was as if Pete had tied every bad thought and feeling to a string of a helium balloon, and as soon as the younger boy’s lips grazed his own, he let go, the feeling of ultimate pleasure and love washing over him and healing his broken soul. This is what he had been looking for, when the lyrics wouldn’t work, when his heart wouldn’t beat right, when he felt like everything would never work.

Born under a bad sign, you saved my life, that night on the roof of your hotel.

When he pulled away, emptiness returned to fill the crevasses on his body where hope had just been. They both stretched out together, the younger boy cradling the broken body of the older, warmth being shared between the both of them. The older boy’s skin tingled as messages of love were being worked into his body by the fingertips of the younger.

“This... won’t work.” The older boy hated to wish away the one thing he needed, but he wasn’t one to delude himself on hopeless situations.

“Why?” The younger boy was breathless, his eyes light with feeling of love and desire for the man he held firmly in his arms.

“Because you don’t exist! I’m the only one that can feel you, that can see you, that can love you.” The older boy choked on his words, wishing more than anything that he didn’t have to break the younger boy’s heart.

“You don’t need me?” It was so quiet and heartbreaking, that neither of them could even breathe.

“I need you. I need you more than anything. But I can’t give my heart to someone who I can’t hold, and show off to the world. To someone who might just be the side effect of my sleeping pills. I want you with me always; I’m scared one day you might just disappear. I don’t think I can handle saying goodbye to the one person who understands me, to the one person who knows me through and through. I want you here, but I want you real.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.” The younger boy pressed his lips to the temple of the older boy, sending electroshocks of love through his fingers, then went to rise to his feet, pulling the older boy with him.

“Wh-what’s going on? Where are you going?” The older boy was close to falling into hysterical at the thought of his best friend and lover leaving, leaving him alone in a desperate world.

“Don’t worry, Pete, I’ll be back soon. All I need you to do is keep believing in what you said before. I can’t wait to see you, Pete. I love you.”

He was gone. Pete fell to the concrete, his knees taking the shock of the rough gravel. He was empty. As if there was nothing more to him. But he had to keep believing in what he said; he had to keep wishing that the boy could be with him forever, for the boy to be real.

Because deep down, he always knew he was supposed to love him. It was a part of him that he had never really noticed before, but it had always been there. His eyes stayed locked to where the boy had just been, and with a faint smile ghosting on his lips, he managed to utter from his frozen lungs, “I love you, too.”

It’s a strange way of saying that I know I’m supposed to love you, I’m supposed to love you.