Our Love Is a War

A streetlight flickered across the street while a gunshot echoed through the empty streets. I wasn’t scared; This is what I have been living in for about a year. You get used to the homeless prayers that are never answered, bullets flying through walls and doors and zipping through the air, the stray animals looking at you, begging for a scrap of any food that you might have, the calls of the muggers and the silent deaths of the vacant roads, for a car might get jacked in the shadow of night. As usual, I balanced a bag of groceries in one hand and carried a 6-bottle case of water. I turned the corner, only to see a shady figure coming in my direction. I ignored the person and kept walking, tensing up when he passed me on my way to my apartment. I cut across the dead grass as wind chilled my exposed hands. I hurried to my first floor apartment and pushed it open with my foot, knowing it wasn’t locked. I came home to the welcoming smell of weed and a faint trace of alcohol. I set the case of water by the side of the wooden door and turned to close and lock it.

“Whose there?” I heard the voice of my beloved, Matthew, say from our bedroom. I picked up the case of water and walked into our poor kitchen.

“It’s just me.” I replied sweetly, setting the bag of food on our clean counter and the cases of water in our next-to-empty fridge. “I brought groceries.” I heard a grunt and shoes hitting the carpet, transitioning to tile. I closed the fridge and met the foggy eyes of boyfriend of two years. He was short for his age, three inches shorter than me. His jet black hair blended in with the dark and his tan skin never fades, even though he’s usually inside most of the time. I leaned down to peck his cheek. “Are you hungry?” I asked him, turning to the bag of groceries.

“Mhm.” he answered, wrapping his arms around my waist, leaning into my back. “What’d you buy?” he asked sleepily. I burrowed through the bag, because I honestly did forget what I bought. I smiled at its contents.

“I got lasagna, hamburger meat, fruit cups and soup.” I told him, taking out the boxes, cans, and packages. I felt him yawn.

“Can’t I just have you for dinner?” he asked me, causing me to blush furiously. “Lasagna.” he said, unwrapping his arms from me and trotting over to our pathetic kitchen table and sitting on a chair that looks like it might break any moment. I put everything away before starting dinner for Matthew. I preheated the oven and took out a plate and fork and went to set it in front of Matthew.

“Anything happen today?” I asked him in a light tone, just in case something bad happened and he might start yelling and breaking things…again.

He groaned. “The prices for drugs went up.” he said, like he was deeply cared for it. And he did. I felt my heart sink because he doesn’t care about me like that anymore. “What was 200 s now 250! It’s a recession, Jesus!” he complained. He continued to ramble on about it was I popped his dinner in the oven and I got out m fruit cup. I was never big on eating calories. I joined Matthew and listened to him, a slurr in his words. No wonder why he was all over me. He’s buzzed. “Anyway, I made it pretty good today.” I heard the smirk in his voice, knowing exactly what he meant. Just as much as he bought, he sold. “Over 20 grand.” I dropped my fork that held my watermelon.

“Twenty grand?” I gasped.

“Yeah. Now we can actually make ends meet.” he sighed, content. I did too. With my college tuition and bills plus his additions, money was tight. And usually, most of it would go to his addictions. Speed, heroine, weed, you name and he’s done it all. I’m glad he’s still alive.

“That’s…that’s really great babe.” I smiled, resuming to my fruit before I heard the oven beep, signaling it was done. I left my spot on the able and went to go fetch it for him, knowing he won’t do it himself. I served it to him before tossing out the container into the trash and joining him again.

We talked throughout our whole meal, something we hardly ever did anymore. I listened to him tell a story about what he and his…er… ‘friends’ did out on the streets. They almost got caught, which made my heart beat out of my chest. I don’t know what I will do if he got sent to jail. Then I told him about my day, how college was going since I was majoring in Science and Mathematics. He looked at me like I was talking in another language. And I guess I was because he never heard of these terms before. And sad part is, he has. Drugs killed his brain cells.

I wished he didn’t get into drugs. Matthew used to be smart. Straight A’s in each honor class and top of his class in high school. And now, this. Someone who lives day by day, dependant on drugs as an outlet. I wished I had the old Matthew back; Back when it was just a few cigarettes and beer here and there, not a full-blown lifestyle. Back when he loved me, back when I was the only thing in his life that mattered. Maybe I’m selfish, then so be it.

But I just want the old him back.

The Matthew I fell in love with.