Heart Broken
The Only Hope For Me is You.
It's been a year, an entire year of your life that you could've spend with someone that isn't him, but you ended up sharing it with him. There are times where you wish, no matter how hard you try not to, that you never went back to him. He was right, he always his is. It would've hurt if you left yourself to endure the break up, but with him there, in his condition, you can't help but feel your patience lowering with each time he falls, whom is way more frequent now a day . You often wonder why do you still love him so much. Why can't your love for him join your patience and disapper more and more while his condition just keeps getting worse. Way more often than you'll ever let yourself know, he can't get up from his bed in the morning, his because you can't bring yourself to share a bed with him. You convinced yourself that sharing a kiss, sometimes, it's enough and way more than you should give him, and sleeping beside you, even if it is the thing that makes him the happiest guy in the entire world, you can let him have that, to you, it's like he would be taking advantage of you, of your will to take care of him, to spray his sickness on you.
But he is gone, to one of his doctor's sessions those too now happen more often than you thought they would, and you need to know what is in his mind. It's been since the day that you did the mistake to take him back. You didn’t touch the box, but you needed to now, you needed to be able to know what he things, or more what he was thinking, back when he could still walk without risking to fall at each steps, but mostly, when he still had the usage of both of his hands to write.
The thing is, you don't know which letter you need to open now. There are so many letters, and you can't figure which letter you need to read, you don't want to read all of them, for the simple reason that no matter how much you wish to hate him, you're still madly in love with him. And you want those memories to last forever, unlike his presence by your side. You are so afraid that if you keep reading them over and over again, they'll crumble and vanish just like your relationship with him. You want to read them, one by one, when you absolutely need them. You really want to be able to feel the emotion he poured into those letters. You want to feel the love he felt toward you in them too. It's still horribly hard for you to admit needing him to reassure you that what you felt was real , to make you feel loved, or whatever he wanted to make you feel when he wrote those letters. You carefully remove each letter from the box, to be sure that they each stay intact from cracks. As you keep searching, you finally found just what you need: Open when you need reasons to believe in us.
It's by far the biggest envelope out of them all, but not are not so scared anymore to open them, you just want confirm those things he can't give you by himself anymore.
You don't notice the pictures falling from it, or the post its tumbling down on your legs when you open it, you only notice the bloody broken necklace. You gasped as you saw that you spent years thinking that he threw it out, that he dumped it in the trash. He kept it though, he actually kept it, and you couldn’t believe it. You almost let it fall to the ground, which would certainly crack it more, it would probably make it burst into a million of pieces, finally.
You remember it perfectly what happened to it. Once again it was your fault, it always is, and unlike what you like to tell yourself to feel better, it's not just because you like to blame better, you just tend to fuck up an awful lot when he is related, like he is too precious for you to know how to take care of him.
You try to fight the painful flashbacks, you try so hard, but you've been trying for far too long and way too hard to push the pain away that now.They just can’t seem to go away; it just hunts you like a ghost, a ghost of each mistakes you happened to make in your life.
You still consider that night the best night of your life, even after everything that went down that night, because you got what you wanted, you got it for real.
When you brought him at your house for the first time, he was so nervous and reclutant about it, but he joined you because you told him that you would leave him. You even told him that you would stop loving him if he didn't do so, at least now you realize that the second option is impossible. When he first entered the house and you presented him as a friend of yours, I don't think you could ever understand how much that broke him inside, but he still only let his best smile show, because he wanted you to make a good impression on your family. He always thought about you, and just the thought of him getting you into trouble, due to you being with him, he couldn't endure that.
That night, you brought him to your room and told him that now that he accomplished the first step, you wanted more, way more. This is the issue with you, you always want more, you can't seem to stop pushing, you always need more. So much more that many people can't bare with it after a while. Do you realize that it's destroying him, in particular. It destroyed they so much that he can't endure it, but since they, again mostly him, love you so much, they don't say a thing about it, they just give you more and more, 'till they're completely broken.
That night, he gave you what you've been asked for, for weeks, more like months, he gave you his virginity and this is the part you like to remember, the other one, what went down due to you, you forgot about it. Well before seeing the achievement of it crumbling in your hands.
After he gave you your only desire, you both returned to the living room, but you didn't realize how loud you had been, nor did you realize that your dad heard everything. Because he heard that, he made everyone go away, to corn you in a room and shoot you.
You didn't realize that something was wrong when he called your name and told you to come to the bathroom to talk to him, but Jack did, he noticed everything. He noticed literally everything, from how awkward the situation was, to the sound of his gun moving from one of his hand to the other.
You should feel blessed that he loves you so much that he followed you, because if he wasn't there that night to show up in the bathroom right when your dad was pulling the trigger, there would be no you anymore. Don’t you realize that he did it, he showed up, and jumped on him, it scared your dad so much that he shot, luckily for you, it went right into Jack's necklace. The necklace that you now have the rests in your hands, the one that the glass fibers are making you bleed.
It's the first time since the accident happened that you let yourself remember it, first time that you even think about it, why is that? Why can't you take care of him? Why can't you stop being so selfish and just think about the sex? Why do you still sometimes believe that he only wants you for the sex, when he would've give up his life for you? Hell, after it happened, after his grandma's weeding gift that she gave to him got destroyed by a bullet, he wasn’t crying over that, or over the fact that he almost got shot, he was crying over you. He was crying over almost loosing you. While you were only happy about having sex with him, with him being your toy.
It's now that you're crying. You can see some of the pictures between your tears, but the thing is that you don't want to see. You can't allow yourself to see more. You know that you'll break down in tears if you see most of these ghosts of a perfect past with him. You see one post-it before you collapse on the ground and as you start to cry more and more, the only thing that is in your head is the old faded blue post-it with you've always been my only hope for real happiness, I love you Michael written on it.
But he is gone, to one of his doctor's sessions those too now happen more often than you thought they would, and you need to know what is in his mind. It's been since the day that you did the mistake to take him back. You didn’t touch the box, but you needed to now, you needed to be able to know what he things, or more what he was thinking, back when he could still walk without risking to fall at each steps, but mostly, when he still had the usage of both of his hands to write.
The thing is, you don't know which letter you need to open now. There are so many letters, and you can't figure which letter you need to read, you don't want to read all of them, for the simple reason that no matter how much you wish to hate him, you're still madly in love with him. And you want those memories to last forever, unlike his presence by your side. You are so afraid that if you keep reading them over and over again, they'll crumble and vanish just like your relationship with him. You want to read them, one by one, when you absolutely need them. You really want to be able to feel the emotion he poured into those letters. You want to feel the love he felt toward you in them too. It's still horribly hard for you to admit needing him to reassure you that what you felt was real , to make you feel loved, or whatever he wanted to make you feel when he wrote those letters. You carefully remove each letter from the box, to be sure that they each stay intact from cracks. As you keep searching, you finally found just what you need: Open when you need reasons to believe in us.
It's by far the biggest envelope out of them all, but not are not so scared anymore to open them, you just want confirm those things he can't give you by himself anymore.
You don't notice the pictures falling from it, or the post its tumbling down on your legs when you open it, you only notice the bloody broken necklace. You gasped as you saw that you spent years thinking that he threw it out, that he dumped it in the trash. He kept it though, he actually kept it, and you couldn’t believe it. You almost let it fall to the ground, which would certainly crack it more, it would probably make it burst into a million of pieces, finally.
You remember it perfectly what happened to it. Once again it was your fault, it always is, and unlike what you like to tell yourself to feel better, it's not just because you like to blame better, you just tend to fuck up an awful lot when he is related, like he is too precious for you to know how to take care of him.
You try to fight the painful flashbacks, you try so hard, but you've been trying for far too long and way too hard to push the pain away that now.They just can’t seem to go away; it just hunts you like a ghost, a ghost of each mistakes you happened to make in your life.
You still consider that night the best night of your life, even after everything that went down that night, because you got what you wanted, you got it for real.
When you brought him at your house for the first time, he was so nervous and reclutant about it, but he joined you because you told him that you would leave him. You even told him that you would stop loving him if he didn't do so, at least now you realize that the second option is impossible. When he first entered the house and you presented him as a friend of yours, I don't think you could ever understand how much that broke him inside, but he still only let his best smile show, because he wanted you to make a good impression on your family. He always thought about you, and just the thought of him getting you into trouble, due to you being with him, he couldn't endure that.
That night, you brought him to your room and told him that now that he accomplished the first step, you wanted more, way more. This is the issue with you, you always want more, you can't seem to stop pushing, you always need more. So much more that many people can't bare with it after a while. Do you realize that it's destroying him, in particular. It destroyed they so much that he can't endure it, but since they, again mostly him, love you so much, they don't say a thing about it, they just give you more and more, 'till they're completely broken.
That night, he gave you what you've been asked for, for weeks, more like months, he gave you his virginity and this is the part you like to remember, the other one, what went down due to you, you forgot about it. Well before seeing the achievement of it crumbling in your hands.
After he gave you your only desire, you both returned to the living room, but you didn't realize how loud you had been, nor did you realize that your dad heard everything. Because he heard that, he made everyone go away, to corn you in a room and shoot you.
You didn't realize that something was wrong when he called your name and told you to come to the bathroom to talk to him, but Jack did, he noticed everything. He noticed literally everything, from how awkward the situation was, to the sound of his gun moving from one of his hand to the other.
You should feel blessed that he loves you so much that he followed you, because if he wasn't there that night to show up in the bathroom right when your dad was pulling the trigger, there would be no you anymore. Don’t you realize that he did it, he showed up, and jumped on him, it scared your dad so much that he shot, luckily for you, it went right into Jack's necklace. The necklace that you now have the rests in your hands, the one that the glass fibers are making you bleed.
It's the first time since the accident happened that you let yourself remember it, first time that you even think about it, why is that? Why can't you take care of him? Why can't you stop being so selfish and just think about the sex? Why do you still sometimes believe that he only wants you for the sex, when he would've give up his life for you? Hell, after it happened, after his grandma's weeding gift that she gave to him got destroyed by a bullet, he wasn’t crying over that, or over the fact that he almost got shot, he was crying over you. He was crying over almost loosing you. While you were only happy about having sex with him, with him being your toy.
It's now that you're crying. You can see some of the pictures between your tears, but the thing is that you don't want to see. You can't allow yourself to see more. You know that you'll break down in tears if you see most of these ghosts of a perfect past with him. You see one post-it before you collapse on the ground and as you start to cry more and more, the only thing that is in your head is the old faded blue post-it with you've always been my only hope for real happiness, I love you Michael written on it.