So Before I End My Day, Remember

It's been two years.
Two years and I'm still not healing. If possible it's getting worse.
Every second of my day is spent thinking of you, even when I'm asleep my dreams are plagued with that rather traumatic evening.
I always wake up screaming, shaking, breaking into cold sweats with the all too familiar salty liquid escaping from my eyes.

Everything reminds me of you.
My whole house, the park, the mall, Ashley's backyard, the little lake near your old apartment, a silly song on the radio, those reality tv shows you loved to make fun of...
Everything and anything reminds me of you, your smile, your laugh, your eyes, your lips, how you always kept talking no matter where we were, the little jokes you were always saying, your cute little pout, the way you walked...

I don't even hang out with Ashley, Kenny and Raven anymore because they remind me of the good times we had.
They miss you too baby, so much you have no idea.
But not as much as I miss you.
They are worried about me, they are always calling me to ask if everything is okay and if I need anything.
They invite me to go out with them too, they never give up on me, but I'm not capable of being with them and have fun, without you here with us.

Everytime our song appears on the radio, the television or on my mp3 player it kills me, slowly and painfully.
So many memories come with those lyrics and rythm.
Memories from when we've met, when we got together as a couple, to when we actually declared that it would be our song.

I still have the bottle of your perfume on my bedside table, from when you forgot it there three days before the accident.
In the beginning I would spray it on my pillow but it began to hurt too much, so I just let it sit in there on my bedside.
You were always forgetting your stuff, I don't even know how you managed to live alone and succeed in not getting kicked out for forgeting so many times to pay the rent.

There isn't enough words to describe what you meant to me, how you still mean so much to me.
It's unbelievable how someone can feel this unconditional love towards another.
This powerful, unique sentiment that many never felt and probably will never feel in their lives.
For several years I thought I was one of those people that would never feel it, that I would be numb and remain ignorant about such an one of a kind fiery, impetuous feeling.

Than you came.
With your presence you turned my hopelessness upside down with just a beautiful smile and a warm hug.
You made me believe in what once I thought was impossible to me.
To be happy.

I soon became addicted to that oh so exclusive, singular sensation.
You became my placebo, my adrenaline, my oxygen... you were the personification of everything that keeps me alive.
Before I met you it seemed like my life was a daze induced by narcoleptics, time passed slowly, taunting me, making me eager to end it all.
After you came it was like I was on this new found substance that was kept secret for many thousands and thousands of years.
Something that once you got a taste of it you become addicted in the first try, better than anything you ever experienced before.
The days look brighter, every little thing seems prettier in your eyes and only one thing matter: Getting another hit.

You were my daily dose Ian.
And once you left, the withdrawl was immediate.
I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, my body ached, throbbed from my toes to my head. My heart was the one that suffered more with this withdrawl because in it grew this hole, that everyday gets bigger and bigger with no signs of stopping any time soon.
This agonizing feeling is still here with me.

I tried to replace it and failed.
Without thinking I turned to actual drugs.
You know, the ones that took you from me and the cause of this agony.

I should have been smarter and not cave in so easily.
But without you I'm weak.

I'm so dependent of this toxic chemicals that I don't get high anymore, I grew a resistance to the effects of it and now I only take them because the pain is unbearable, even more so because of the hole you left when you were gone.

For this past two years I have been writing in this little bright blue notebook you gave me when I told you that I liked to write.

I never used it when you were here, but two days after you left I saw it sitting on my dresser and could not fight the urge. I had to write.

So I wrote.
I wrote our story.
From the day we've met until now.

This is actually the last page of the little bright blue notebook but our story is not over, it's far from ending.

I wrote it with the intention of spilling my memories so I don't forget. Like if it was possible for me to forget them, but I'm afraid I will, so here it is, here is my ending.

Two boys.
One story.
Our story.
One love.

Our love.

---

After staring at it for a bit I closed the book.

I finally ended it.
Since I saw the notebook he gave me laying there I didn't stop writing until now.

I left it on my bed and got up stretching like a cat, glancing at the the numbers in my alarm clock.
It says it's 5 am.

I feel tired but I know that ,even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to get some sleep.
That's okay, really, maybe it's better this way.

I went to the bathroom to take a quick shower.
I'm glad my parents are gone for the weekend so they can't ask me questions of why am I taking a shower at 4am.

Inside the bathroom, I strip myself from my pyjamas pants, turn the water on go under the shower, trying to relax under the warm water droplets, but failing in relaxing.
I quickly turn the hot water off and step out of the tub, grabbing the towel and wrapping it on my waist.
Not even a warm shower is enjoyable anymore.

Cleaning the fog from the mirror, I watch the boy staring at me from the reflection.
It isn't me.
It is not.
How can this sick looking boy be me?
Pale as a ghost, blood shot eyes, filled with hurt and grieve, with purple circles around them, ribs poking out from the mentioned colorless skin that is marked with all kinds of scars.

I'm just a shadow of what I once was.
Of what I once was with a certain greenish, hazel eyed boy.

I miss him so much, that just thinking about it makes my stomach turn and bile rise in my throat.

I hurriedly get out from the bathroom to enter my bedroom again to get dressed.
After I'm dressed I glance at the alarm clock once more, where it says it's 5:40am.

Without even drying my hair I just grab his perfume that is laying on my bedside and the notebook and start to make my way downstairs where I put my shoes on, grab my jacket and get out of the house.

Walking in a slow pace, I try to distract myself, by looking at the still dark sky with a very round moon still showing.

After a twenty minutes walk I arrive on my destination.
A very tall and abandoned building, where him and I used to climb the stairs inside to the roof to watch the sunset together.

Entering the building, I imediatly find those old stairs made of polished stone.
Climbing it and after what felt like forever I arrive at the roof.

The sky is getting lighter, but still isn't the right time.

Sitting in a corner, I stretch my legs in front of me.
I grab his scent and spray it over the notebook, just enough to have his smell and don't smear the ink.

For the first time, since those first days after Ian went away, I took in his familiar fragrance.
It smelled like summer, warm days, exotic fruits and candy. The kind of smell that gives you energy but at the same time makes you relax.

After satisfying a bit the yearning I had to have his essence in my nostrils again, I opened the little bright blue notebook and started reading our story from the beginning.