Autumn's Monologue.

“I was out, went to a friend’s.”

He sat up straighter, squaring his shoulders the best he could and looking me dead in the eye.

“You went to his house didn’t you?”

My quietness let him know the answer to that question.

“You, you didn’t do anything did you?”

He spoke just above a whisper as he averted his eyes to the floor. He was ashamed of me, that much I could tell. His fingers played with my green box—I didn’t want him to have it.

“I needed to get away, nothing happened. We watched a movie and I slept over. No kissing, no touching, no fucking, no hand-jobs, no blow-jobs, nothing happened. Can’t you just let me go to a friend and not worry about it?”

“I would but this isn’t Ray we’re talking about, it’s Edward. I heard the rumors around school Mikes, I’m not stupid. I know what he’s into—I watched as you went spiraling downhill with him.”

He knew and didn’t do a goddamned thing to help me—that hurt. I hadn’t crossed my room to join him on the bed, flickering my eyes between his and my green box still being fidgeted with in his hands.

“I haven’t looked inside of it, I’ve wanted to but I knew that would be too much invasion of your privacy. I’m aware of one thing inside. I changed my mind; I want to know what happened to you. I’m not going anywhere.”

He was stubborn and he meant it—he wasn’t going to go anywhere until I spoke. Could I handle doing this once again—pouring out my shameful past that ended not even a month ago? The easiest thing to do would be to have him open that box—it holds everything I’ve ever done inside.

“Open it.”

I nodded towards his hands, he looked down then back up to me—I gave a small nod. If he wanted to know so badly he was going to find out. I told Ray, I could show Frankie. I heard a small gasp come from him as he opened to reveal the contents that lay inside.

There was the syringe I used for the first and only time I injected something in my body. There were countless papers for wrapping weed, five razors, two of which were stained with my blood—the other three were used along with a tightly rolled dollar bill and a small mirror for snorting.

A small bag of a mixture of pills sat in one corner, whilst he just stared dumfounded down into his lap. Condoms took up another corner—I told Ray I was safe about things. I also had a bottle opener inside and a few bottle caps as well.

Is there anything worse than ashamed? If there is, I’m feeling it right now. I’ve only said two words to him—I said a lot more to Ray but this seemed to be the bluntness Frank expected. Perhaps it was a bit too much.

I’m not sure how long we sat there—me feeling completely and utterly ashamed of myself for what I had done and Frank, not speaking a word, not even looking in my direction.

=-=-=-=

I had managed to doze off at some point of our silent interaction. Waking up to find myself slumped in the chair with a blanket over me and a sleeping Frank alone on my bed. I don’t remember moving from my spot by the door—perhaps I did or he directed me to the chair?

I glanced at him, my green box now placed on the nightstand by my bed; he had dried tear tracks down his cheeks. The second day in a row where I’ve made him cry—what a great boyfriend I am.

Perhaps we should take a break—no I’d be worse without him—I think he knows that too. I can’t keep doing this though; two days and I’ve put him through enough emotional turmoil to last a lifetime.

How would you feel to find that your boyfriend was a druggie, probably an alcoholic and a man-whore—giving and taking whatever he could get. Well with the exception of actually letting someone take him.

I couldn’t even wrap my head around what he must be feeling right now—what did he get himself into? I’m sure that’s his biggest question. Does he still want to be with me? That’s my biggest one.

I removed the blanket and took the few steps it took towards my bed, crawling gently behind him, spooning him as he slept. I must’ve woken him, I felt him stir against me, turning to face me; his beautiful green-brown eyes meeting my own, a small, weak smile gracing his lips.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

He gently placed his lips on my own—just briefly—I didn’t even have time to respond.

“We’ll get through this, I know we will. I love you too much to just let you go because of a few mistakes.”

I gave a small smile—hoping my eyes didn’t show how mixed I felt about his statement. I’m ecstatic he loves me enough to remain by my side but I’m apprehensive of ‘getting through this’.