How to save a life

„Step one you say we need to talk. He walks you say sit down it's just a talk."

You see him sitting on the bathroom floor, pressed against the coolness of the tiles, as if he wished they would absorb him. You don't see the tears he never cried, you're not able to see the shame hiding behind long lashes. Carefully you take a step nearer, kneel down in front of him – unsure what to do, desperately trying to catch his gaze.

You're reaching out for him, stopping your arm in unfinished motion, resting it in the middle of the air, not sure whether you should touch him or not. You're desperately searching for words but the only thing you can think of is his name and how it sounds now, that you're daring the experiment to speak it out loud. "Alex" Your voice is husky, unsure and some kind of hushed.

He doesn't look at you; neither does he react in any other way; except that he presses his body even harder against the tiles.

"He smiles politely back at you. You stare politely right on through. Some sort of window to your right. As he goes left and you stay right"

Unsure you stay as you are trying to free your mind from the image of this strong man, which lies in front of you broken down to find the words to make him feel alright.

But the deep, empty glance of his brown eyes erases every clear thought and now you can feel the panic rise and your thoughts drown. Your eyes are fixed on his face, staring continuously as you listen to the little sobs which escape him from time to time. You can feel the sweat that is pouring out of every pore of your skin dripping down your back in little streams. He doesn't look up to you; in fact he seems not to see anything at all, staring on the white tiles of the floor without even realizing where he is.

"Between the lines of fear and blame. And you begin to wonder why you came."

You try to control the panic which lets your body tremble and your hands shake, but while you're fighting it there is more and more fear, freezing you to your place. Kneeling on the cold floor, shivering as you begin to realize, how cold it really is, how cold it must be for him, who has been staying for so much longer than you.

Once again you try to speak, but the instant you open your mouth, he glances to you, empty but although full of blame and fear. And you begin to wonder why you thought you could help him, make him feel any better, without even knowing what is wrong,

"Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend? Somewhere along in the bitterness. And I would have stayed up with you all night. Had I known how to save a life."

Finally this thought is it, that makes you take a step forward, reaching for his arm or any other part of his body you can touch – reassuring yourself he is still here – let yourself slip next to him, pressing your own body against the tub behind you. The lack of words which was there before is closing now and your head gets floated with tons of words you want to tell him; but you hold yourself back, desperately trying for once not to be hysteric George, who talks pointlessly and without any sense. You try to get one clear thought to tell him without stuttering, that you are there but the only word that passes your lips is once again his name. Now sounding rusty and hopeless. Your fingers reach out for him, wrap themselves around his back and pull him into a deep embrace; the only way you know how to make him feel comfortable. But he sits stiff, unmoved next to you, trembling without reason. Let you feeling even more helpless.

"Let him know that you know best. 'Cause after all you do know best. Try to slip past his defence. Without granting innocence. Lay down a list of what is wrong. The things you've told him all along. And pray to God he hears you, and pray to God he hears you."

You try hard to keep the words back, that are building behind your lips, but because you are George, you can't hold them back anymore. Careless, unimportant words slip past your lips, make their way to Alex and pour themselves over his numb frame. His lips twist in an uncertain kind of harsh move; his gaze hushes to yours, just to fall back on the tiles a second later. And the harder he seems to ignore you, the harder you try to make him listen to you, to make him believe.

You don't realize that you've started to talk about other things, talking pointlessly about anything and nothing in the same time, trying to calm yourself while you forget about him.

"As he begins to raise his voice, you lower yours and grant him one last choice. Drive until you lose the road, or break with the ones you've followed"

"Fuck George, shut up!" Ashamed you stop in the middle of your sentence, as you hear his voice low and unnerved. Instead of talking you try now to catch his gaze, read in his eyes. He doesn't look at you, holds his eyes constantly on the cold tiles, while his hand is moving insecure and fast up and down his left arm. You fight hard against the words that are building behind your lips try not to let them slip again.

And just as you are about to talk again, to fill the emptiness between you with meaningless words, he opens his mouth and starts to talk.

"He will do one of two things: He will admit to everything, or he'll say he's just not the same.
And you'll begin to wonder why you came"

He mumbles words, lets them drop into the room and tells you that none of the things you said has anything to do with this. But instead of shutting his mouth again, returning to silentness he seems to accept that you aren't going to let him alone and finally he starts to talk. He tells you about his father using him as a punching bag and how he had fought him back then. You cannot believe, although you try to hide your fear, try to make him believe, that it was right for him to tell you. That he can rely on you. But while you are acting tough and strong, while he lets finally escape the tears hiding behind his lashes, you begin to wonder how you will be able to help him.

"And I would have stayed up (I would of stayed up!) with you all night.
Had I known how to save a life."

You intensify your grip around his waist; pull him closer to you, as you feel him collapse into your shoulder. Once again useless words slip past you lips, tender and quiet this time, fill the small space between your bodies. You can feel him tremble in your arms and you're glad you had come over to his place. That you had found him and that he allows you to see his tears. And while you're moving his stiff, cold body from the tiles, dragging him into his bedroom you try your hardest to assure yourself that the two of you are going to be okay.

Even though you don't know how to save a life.