I've Realized Now I'll Never Become Anything

It's the times like these where I have to prepare myself for the worst, but wishing, and hoping that he would just settle down and let everything pour out of him in a different, less defiant way. Nothing ever seems to go as we hope for, but then there's faith that we need to keep alive. To keep alive in ourselves, and keep having faith in each other.

His screams were full of pain. They sounded as if he was slowly being beaten to death, as if someone was killing him. But he's only killing himself. He's screaming and there is no way to stop him. He's controlling and won't care about anything in his state of mind. Nothing matters so he puts himself through it, but like I said, it's not his fault. His life is at fault, yet it is also at stake.

The pounds started to get louder. Objects and knick-knacks around the apartment were being thrown against the walls and to the ground, crashing like lightning. Glass shattering was the main attraction for all the commotion. Just imagining what he could be doing with the various shards of it on the floor broke my heart, but he needs his time. Time to get it all out and to calm down.

Hearing the noise slowly easing its way down to the bare minimum, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and pushed myself up. Nerves were shaking in my body, for I was not looking forward to seeing what a mess he turned into. I tried to open the bedroom door without it creaking, but he probably would be too stirred up to actually take any notice to it.

My feet stuck to the hard wood flooring like suction cups since I wasn't walking fast enough. From the hall, I could see the end table from the other side of the room upside down; the picture frames no longer on top. The telephone chords were lying everywhere; pieces of glass adorned the floor. One of my favorite pieces of art work I had hung on the wall directly in front of the hallway was no longer there.

My strolling came to a halt just before I was at the end of the hall. Inhaling deeply, I prepared myself for the inevitable as I closed my eyes. As I exhaled, I took the last few steps and stationed myself in full view. I glanced around at the total chaos the family room had turned into in just minutes. This is by far, the worst it's ever gotten.

His back was towards me; his blue sweater was ripped at the collar and elbows. And he was mumbling to himself. "I'm done," he said and at that point, I knew what he was talking about. "I'm fucking done!" he screamed. The last lamp standing, he grabbed and threw it across the room, it shattering when coming in contact with the wall. As he turned when he chucked the object, he saw me standing there in awe.

He looked down at his feet, almost as if he felt ashamed of what he had done, but seeing him unable to stand straight, I knew that he wasn't thinking what I thought. He shoved his hands in his pockets and that's when I realized that they were spilling blood. He had gashes in between his knuckles, but he didn't even seem to notice them. Or he just didn't seem to care.

He looked back up at me, his stunning eyes hollow and heavy. Though his sobriety level was non-existent, his eyes still pierced through me. "Did I wake you?" he asked, his soft spoken tone of voice hitting hard, for just moments prior, he was screaming his heart out.

Gazing around at the complete mess, I felt my eyes well up with tears. Being as careful as I could, I made my way to his standing frame on the dark blue rug in the middle of the room. He stared at me the whole way, and slightly flinched when I slowly wrapped my arms around his waist. It took him a while before he realized that I was hugging him, and silently crying to myself. He took it upon himself to wrap his arms around my shoulders.

He leaned down and buried his face in the crook of my neck. I felt wetness on my collar bone and him start to shake. He was crying, too. I rubbed his back as he cried harder. Taking its toll on me, I seemed to cry more.

"Craig..." I said, unsure of what to say next.

Craig squeezed my body tighter; he didn't seem to ever want to let go. We stayed in the same position for what seemed like hours, but in reality, it was only a mere ten minutes. I loosened my grip on him, and placed my hand under his chin, making him look at me. I sighed as I wiped his stray tears. His eyes were still beautiful because I looked beyond the redness and saw nothing but love and affection in those bright blue eyes of his.

"Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" I said to him in a whisper. Craig closed his eyes and nodded lightly.

I carefully grabbed his hand, not wanting to hurt his cuts. The blood I didn't care if it got on me; it wouldn't have been the first time anyway. Leading him to the bathroom connected to the bedroom, I flicked on the light. Craig's memorized the routine, gently hopping up on the counter like a child and waiting while I got the medicine and bandages.

I sighed heavily as I soaked the edge of a wash cloth with peroxide over the sink. Craig was staring at me the entire time; I could feel it. But it's something I'm used to; every time this has happened and we repeat what we're doing now, he always stayed silent and stared.

Craig didn't flinch as I ran the cloth over his right hand, wiping away the red substance. He does normally react to the peroxide because it stings at times, but this time was different. I blew lightly at his hand, not wanting him to feel any more discomfort. When it was all cleaned and the ointment I like to put on was completed, I wrapped his hand in gauze, repeating the same process to his other hand.

With a new damp wash cloth, I wiped his face. Little blood trickled down his lip and the top of his forehead. I flashed a small smile, permitting him to know that I was all done. Moving aside, Craig hopped down off the counter. Much to my surprise when I was putting what I used away, he hugged me. He held onto my waist tightly, and I held his shoulders. Craig planted a small kiss on my neck before I pulled away.

I stared at him in wonder. "What was that for?"

Craig held my hands in his and stared deeply into my jade-green eyes. "Everything," he whispered.

A smile twitched at my lips. He was thankful for something, but that just goes to show he was sobering. Whatever he did before he came home, had just about completely wore off.

"We'll take this one day at a time, Craigery," I tell him. He only nodded.

One day at a time.