A Little Reminder.
ugly...
There was a time, not so long ago, when every day was placed into one of two categories. Good days and ugly days.
The good days were rare but worth the wait. You soon learn to appreciate every moment of happiness when you have to wait for it. These were the days of smiles and laughter, surrounded by friends, beer and cigarette smoke, with the feeling of peace and bliss coursing though my veins, mixing with the blood and leaving me high.
The ugly days happened more often than not. I woke up with a rain cloud above my head, couldn’t bear to look in any of the mirrors and left the house just wishing I could hide in my bed forever. I felt disgusting, both too fat and too skinny at the same time, every inch of me faulty and hideous. And I hid behind a mask, hid behind a mass of bright red hair and a wide smile with painted lips, the make-up making it easier to forget who I really was. I managed to fool everyone into thinking I was okay. I even began to fool myself that this was the real Daisuke, not just an alter ego I’d created for the media and the fans.
But I couldn’t fool Toshiya.
One night, I came home around midnight, having just been to one of the local nightclubs, a sleazy place that smells of weed and sex and I left feeling worse than I did when I went in, despite the alcohol swishing around inside me and that buzzing feeling I always got from second hand marijuana smoke. But I was still sober, horribly sober.
The television in the bedroom was on, the volume low but loud enough to hear the dialogue and gunshots. Toshiya’s favourite programme. I shrugged, the fact he was in my apartment not really surprising me. He still had a key from when I asked him to water my plants when I visited my grandma last year and he came round a lot anyway, for kisses and cuddles and blowjobs. We hadn’t quite got further than that, which was, of course, my fault. I simply felt insignificant next to him, couldn’t quite work out why he wanted me when he could have a million other people and I definitely didn’t want him to see me naked, not even on a good day.
I shuffled to the bathroom, my trousers already halfway down my legs because my bladder was getting lairy and impatient, my boxers following them as I stood in front of the toilet. My eyes suddenly caught sight of a white blob to my right and I turned my head, blinking a little because I wasn’t quite sure if I was seeing things properly. Stuck on the mirror was a white post-it note, just a simple piece of paper with Toshiya’s untidy handwriting scrawled over it.
‘You are beautiful!’ It said.
It hit me harder than any words of reassurance anyone had ever given me because I’d never spoken to him about my insecurities, never even mentioned when I was feeling down and yet, he knew. And it wasn’t like he had to say it, but he did, which made me believe that he really meant it, that that scribbled note came from his heart.
When I’d finished in the bathroom, I padded slowly back to where he was, watching him from the bedroom doorframe. He was sprawled on my mattress, his head resting on the wall, his glasses reflecting the television screen in both lenses. It took a few moments before he spotted me, turning his head and smiling softly, a silent ‘hey’ falling from his lips as he turned the television off.
And then I started to cry, years of sadness and anger finally finding a release, tears pouring down my cheeks as I sank to the floor with my head in my hands. I’d have felt embarrassed if it was someone else watching me, but with Toshiya, I felt I could let it all go, that he wanted me to let it all go so we could finally move on.
He stayed silent, cradling me on the bedroom carpet for God knows how long, his strong hands rubbing my back reassuringly or running strands of scarlet hair through his fingers. I apologized countless times for getting his shirt wet and for being such a useless boyfriend and for millions of other things that had no relevance to anything at all and he still said nothing. He just kissed my cheek, my hair, my hands and waited patiently for it to all be over.
And when it was, he made me sit up and look at him, wiping and kissing my tears away, stroking my face with his thumbs. When I opened my mouth to apologize one more time, he pressed a finger to my lips, the soft smile spreading over his face again.
“Let’s go to bed,” he whispered, his lips replacing his finger for a short moment before he got to his feet, hand outstretched to help lift me up. “And tomorrow, we’ll work on getting that gorgeous smile back on your face. We can start with syrup covered pancakes and end with that new DVD I got. Sound good?”
I laughed, sniffing once or twice, allowing him to drag me over to the bed with a real smile on my face, not one of the false grins I’d been wearing for years. A real smile that made him grin in turn. And as we settled down, his body wrapped around mine from behind, I knew that the rain cloud wouldn’t keep hanging over me for much longer.
The good days were rare but worth the wait. You soon learn to appreciate every moment of happiness when you have to wait for it. These were the days of smiles and laughter, surrounded by friends, beer and cigarette smoke, with the feeling of peace and bliss coursing though my veins, mixing with the blood and leaving me high.
The ugly days happened more often than not. I woke up with a rain cloud above my head, couldn’t bear to look in any of the mirrors and left the house just wishing I could hide in my bed forever. I felt disgusting, both too fat and too skinny at the same time, every inch of me faulty and hideous. And I hid behind a mask, hid behind a mass of bright red hair and a wide smile with painted lips, the make-up making it easier to forget who I really was. I managed to fool everyone into thinking I was okay. I even began to fool myself that this was the real Daisuke, not just an alter ego I’d created for the media and the fans.
But I couldn’t fool Toshiya.
One night, I came home around midnight, having just been to one of the local nightclubs, a sleazy place that smells of weed and sex and I left feeling worse than I did when I went in, despite the alcohol swishing around inside me and that buzzing feeling I always got from second hand marijuana smoke. But I was still sober, horribly sober.
The television in the bedroom was on, the volume low but loud enough to hear the dialogue and gunshots. Toshiya’s favourite programme. I shrugged, the fact he was in my apartment not really surprising me. He still had a key from when I asked him to water my plants when I visited my grandma last year and he came round a lot anyway, for kisses and cuddles and blowjobs. We hadn’t quite got further than that, which was, of course, my fault. I simply felt insignificant next to him, couldn’t quite work out why he wanted me when he could have a million other people and I definitely didn’t want him to see me naked, not even on a good day.
I shuffled to the bathroom, my trousers already halfway down my legs because my bladder was getting lairy and impatient, my boxers following them as I stood in front of the toilet. My eyes suddenly caught sight of a white blob to my right and I turned my head, blinking a little because I wasn’t quite sure if I was seeing things properly. Stuck on the mirror was a white post-it note, just a simple piece of paper with Toshiya’s untidy handwriting scrawled over it.
‘You are beautiful!’ It said.
It hit me harder than any words of reassurance anyone had ever given me because I’d never spoken to him about my insecurities, never even mentioned when I was feeling down and yet, he knew. And it wasn’t like he had to say it, but he did, which made me believe that he really meant it, that that scribbled note came from his heart.
When I’d finished in the bathroom, I padded slowly back to where he was, watching him from the bedroom doorframe. He was sprawled on my mattress, his head resting on the wall, his glasses reflecting the television screen in both lenses. It took a few moments before he spotted me, turning his head and smiling softly, a silent ‘hey’ falling from his lips as he turned the television off.
And then I started to cry, years of sadness and anger finally finding a release, tears pouring down my cheeks as I sank to the floor with my head in my hands. I’d have felt embarrassed if it was someone else watching me, but with Toshiya, I felt I could let it all go, that he wanted me to let it all go so we could finally move on.
He stayed silent, cradling me on the bedroom carpet for God knows how long, his strong hands rubbing my back reassuringly or running strands of scarlet hair through his fingers. I apologized countless times for getting his shirt wet and for being such a useless boyfriend and for millions of other things that had no relevance to anything at all and he still said nothing. He just kissed my cheek, my hair, my hands and waited patiently for it to all be over.
And when it was, he made me sit up and look at him, wiping and kissing my tears away, stroking my face with his thumbs. When I opened my mouth to apologize one more time, he pressed a finger to my lips, the soft smile spreading over his face again.
“Let’s go to bed,” he whispered, his lips replacing his finger for a short moment before he got to his feet, hand outstretched to help lift me up. “And tomorrow, we’ll work on getting that gorgeous smile back on your face. We can start with syrup covered pancakes and end with that new DVD I got. Sound good?”
I laughed, sniffing once or twice, allowing him to drag me over to the bed with a real smile on my face, not one of the false grins I’d been wearing for years. A real smile that made him grin in turn. And as we settled down, his body wrapped around mine from behind, I knew that the rain cloud wouldn’t keep hanging over me for much longer.