Consumed

After all the shit we've gone through, it comes down to this.

After all the screaming matches at three AM and waking up the neighbours, it comes down to here. After all the lies we told and the people we hurt, it comes down to now. After all the physical fights and the apologies afterwards, it comes down to us.

We're standing on the rooftop of the tallest building in this God forsaken fucking nowhere town. He's near the doorway, his fear of heights keeping him from venturing anywhere nearer. Me? I'm at the edge. So close to being unbalanced that if a sudden gust of wind comes, I will surely fall. I should be terrified... I'm not. I wonder what it's like to be the people on the ground, obliviously happy, and a small sick part of me hopes I hit one when I get down there.

"Come down, please?" He begs me, and it's so sickeningly pathetic that I almost consider it for a second. The dark shadows under his eyes mirror my own, but the extreme panic visible in his pale blue orbs is not visible in mine. "I love you! We can make this work, just please... don't do anything stupid!"

"We're bad for each other, you know that. We don't work."

Our love for each other has been our downfall. We both love so passionately, so violently that it has almost consumed us. God only knows how we fell in love in the first place, we do not go together. The amount of arguments we've had are at least double the times we've told the other we love them. Hate and Love are so closely intertwined in our relationship that neither of us can tell them apart any more. If you ever feel the need to match make, make sure that the two people you put together are not angry. Two angry people will most certainly turn violent against each other. Bruises became everyday decoration, burns weekly. Soon they will find a way to try and cope. We found drugs. For a while, everything was good. It didn't last.

"But that's the thing, we do work! Without you I'm nothing, lost and...Please-" his voice breaks, "please don't leave me alone. Look, we can get off the drugs together. We can stop the fighting.. Oh I don't know... I just, I don't think I can live without you!" He's crying now and so am I, though I wipe away the tears before he can see them.

The thing is I can't live without him either, but I don't think I can live with him any more. Soon I won't have to.

And now he's on his knees, moving at a snail pace towards me. His breath is shaky and it seems like he might breakdown any second. From screaming in my face and squeezing my arms so they bruise, to crawling towards me crying his eyes out. If I could choose I would take the former a thousand times over the latter, but I have no choice. I try and tell him to stop, to leave it alone, but no sound comes out. He's in front of me now, kneeling at my feet. Slowly, so so slowly, he stands up. We are facing each other and although he's scared stiff, he manages to reach out and take my hands in his own. Two words.

"Please. Amy."

"Jason," his name comes out as a moan, "this is how it has to be."

And I'm pulling as hard as I can. If he insists on grabbing hold of me then he's coming too. But I'm not falling. We’re not falling. He's fighting me, digging his heels in. He has the advantage, I can feel myself being pulled forward. It's over. The feel of his hands in mine, the determination on his face, the way he murmurs my name and suddenly I don’t want to die any more. I'm not going to die. A feeling of elation envelopes me and I'm crying and laughing simultaneously.

And then his hands slip.