I own nothing.

This is a story of the likes you have probably heard before. It's a story about love, about pain and about a lot of anger. It's not a unique story by any means, but it's mine. He would probably say it is his story, too. Our story. I guess he wouldn't be wrong, but he's not here right now is he?

My story - our story - started some thirty five years ago. I was a little three year old boy, running around at the local playground. My mother was probably sitting on some bench nearby, worrying I'd hurt myself. She always used to worry so much. I never really paid her any mind, running around carelessly. I don't really remember what happened that day, but I still have a picture somewhere. As the story has been told to me, I had been a little too enthusiastic going down the slide. I fell off halfway, and a tall boy came to my rescue. Unintentionally of course, since he was just there and I fell on him. I had barely time to register an 'oof' from under me, before he pushed me off.

"Oi, watch where you going!" the tall boy said. He had this crazy colored hair which reminded me of the sunset and he looked angry. I just sat there, in the sand, confused but not scared.

"I'm sorry," I said, looking down. "I just fell of the slide and I didn't mean to fall on you!"

The tall boys face softened a bit, and he extended his hand. I took it and he pulled me up.

"I'm Axel," the boy said. "Who are you?"

"Roxas."

I don't know how long I'd been quiet, just staring at the nothingness before me, but the sound of his voice startled me.

"Are you okay to continue on?"

I looked up slowly. His expression was gentle, but he looked tired. As if he was fed up with my shit. I didn't know what to tell him. I only realised I was silent for too long when I felt her squeeze my hand.

"Honey, did you hear him?" She sounded nice, but I heard the tension in her voice. I was sure mister Cricket heard it, too.

"Yeah, sorry. I, uh, think I would like to stop for today, if that's okay?"

Mister Cricket smiled at me. Naminé let go of my hand. I didn't miss the touch; it had felt cold anyway.

"That's fine. We'll continue this Thursday. See you then, Strifes."

When we returned home, Naminé went straight to her studio. Probably to paint some of her frustration on a canvas the size of Texas. God knew she needed that much space. When she had suggested couples therapy, I had been sceptical. I knew it would make her happy if I went, so that's what I did, like the good husband I was supposed to be. I sighed and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. I sat myself down on the couch and just stared. I didn't feel like doing anything anymore these days. Back when this all started my friends tried to be there for me. They called almost every day to see if I was okay and if I wanted to hang out. I was so sick of talking to them every day, so I ignored their calls. Until they stopped trying. I couldn't really blame them, after all, you could only wait so long for a person until it takes too much energy to even try anymore. It surprised me Naminé was being this patient with me. I knew she was worn out and generally not happy, but she stuck by me. I wondered how much longer she would last before she would abandon me too. The thought of it actually made me feel a little relieved, because then I wouldn't have to feel responsible for her unhappiness. It also helped that I really didn't care about our marriage at this point. I loved her, of course, but not like that, like a wife. If I was being truly honest, I wasn't sure if I ever did.

I finished my beer and settled deeper into the couch. I was vaguely aware of Naminé, coming out of her studio and going to bed. She didn't ask me to come, so I didn't. It was like this most nights, but the couch suited me just fine. Sleeping on the couch under a thin blanket in the middle of winter felt warmer than sleeping next to her.

Axel and I hit it off quite well after our chance encounter. It didn't take long for him to tease me for falling off the slide - which looking back on it really wasn't that high or steep - and we played together the rest of the afternoon. I was sad when my mom called me to go home. I didn't want to leave my new friend. We made our moms exchange phone numbers and agreed to meet again soon.

The next day Axel came to our house. We played with my toy dinosaurs, which Axel claimed to be 'lame'. He was two years older than me, so he wanted to play with cooler toys. He entertained me though, and played with me until he had to go home. He ended up living only a block away, so we saw a lot of each other after that. He was my best friend in the world.

We were always at my place. Axel said I wouldn't like it at his house, and I never questioned him. It was only until we were much older I found out why he always wanted to come to my home.

When I was about ten years old, we had our first sleepover. I remember being incredibly excited. My dad had pulled some old mattress from the attic, together with a sleeping bag and a pillow. We stayed up late, watching movies and telling stories. I had never seen Axel so relaxed before, and never so sad when morning came and he had to go home again. My mother gave him a hug and invited him over for dinner the next day. He smiled brightly at her and said he would definitely be there.

But he didn't come. I was poking my broccoli and sighed.

"Roxas, honey, you haven't eaten. Are you okay?" my mom asked.

"I thought Axel was coming over today," I mumbled, not looking up from my thoroughly mashed potatoes. "If he didn't want to come, he could've called or something."

"I'm sure something just came up, sweetie. He'll call sooner or later, just wait and see." My mother stroked my hair lovingly and I felt a little better. I had the coolest mom, I was sure. So I mustered a smile and ate some of my vegetables.

Axel never did call about that particular evening. When he finally calledl, a week had passed. When he asked if he could come over, I was so eager to say that he could, that I completely forgot about that night. We never discussed it after that, and it never happened again.

When Thursday came, I dragged myself to therapy. I didn't want to go, but Naminé insisted of course.

"We need to work this through, Roxas, but I just can't do it all by myself," she had snapped. She frowned the whole drive there, which was otherwise silent.

Our session was long and uneventful. Naminé did most of the talking while I just sat there and nodded occasionally. I noticed mister Cricket's writing, furiously trying to keep up with all Naminé said and I didn't. Everytime he looked up he had a concerned look on his face, which to me said a lot.

"Would you like to respond to that, Roxas?" mister Cricket asked suddenly. He hadn't interrupted Naminé's monologue much, and I had zoned out.

"Uh, I'm sorry?" I tried. Naminé huffed.

Mister Cricket cleared his throat. "Naminé expressed some feelings which I think are very important. Would you like to repeat them?"

"Well, I was saying, which you would have known had you listened-"

"-please refrain from blaming your husband. Address him as you just did me, make eye contact and speak from your heart."

Naminé sighed and turned around a bit, so she could look at me properly. I felt it was expected of me to listen carefully this time, so I straightened up a little and looked her right back in her eyes. Her eyes in which I used to see the ocean but were now clouded with anger.

"I feel like you don't find me attractive anymore. I can't remember the last time we've had sex, or the last time you even kissed me. All you do is work, and when you get back you drink beer. We used to watch movies together, go out to dinner together. You used to thouch me. You used to love me. It feels like you don't love me anymore, and it feels like you've already given up on this marriage." She looked down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. She did that thing she does when she's nervous or angry, picking at her own fingernails. "Why should I keep trying when you've already given up?" Her voice broke at the end, I could see her trying to hold back tears.

"I- I don't know what to say."

I could've said anything, anything at all and that would have been better. She slapped me across the face and stormed out, but not before shouting I should take the bus back home. The thick wooden door slammed shut and I just sat there, frozen. Why did I even say that?

"Well," mister Cricket began, "that probably could've gone a bit better. Don't you agree, Roxas?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

Mister Cricket 'hmm'd' knowingly, and wrote something down. "Do you think maybe you said that because it would hurt her less than the truth?"

I looked up at him, but the look in his eyes made me feel ashamed. I had to look away again.

"I mean, I don't know. She already hates me anyway, so that's not it. It's just, I don't know how to tell her. I do still love her, I married her for god's sake."

"Marriage doesn't mean you'll love someone forever, Roxas. And that's okay, but you need to be truthful about it."

I just sighed and rubbed my eyes. "Is it okay I go now? I promise to think about what you've said. About what you've both said."

"That's fine. We'll continue on Tuesday. See if you can come together, but if you can't, you're welcome to come alone. I think that would be equally if not more beneficial to you." He smiled kindly and I took the bus home.

My first day of high school wasn't such a cliché I thought it would be. I didn't worry about my classes or if I would make any friends. I wasn't scared I would sit alone at lunch, I wasn't afraid of not fitting in. I had Axel to thank for that, he had of course already gone through all of it. He was a sophomore now, and he promised me he would help me out. That comforted me, and I was actually looking forward to my first day of school. Axel also said that now I was in high school too, we could study together. That meant more time with him, so I was happy to do just that.

At lunch I met some of Axel's school friends. There was Demyx, aspiring musician and overall oddball, Zexion, who was just too smart for his own good, and Riku, who didn't speak much. I always felt he didn't like me very much, which struck me as odd because we never really spoke with each other. It was a nice group, and we got along fine.

One day, Axel informed me of a party Demyx was hosting at his place. Apparently his parents were loaded and traveled a lot. He invited me along, but made me promise I wouldn't drink any alcohol. He said alcohol was bad and made you do stupid shit. We went together and I was amazed at the size of Demyx's home. There were five bedrooms, each with a bathroom of its own, a huge kitchen with a gourmet chef, and a theater room. It had cozy chairs and a huge screen, like a real theater ought to have. Demyx had his own music room, which was filled with about every instrument I could think of and then some. The party was held in the garden. It was a bit too cold to have a party outside, but Demyx had placed heaters all over the place. It wasn't cold at all. Some people were hanging out in a hot tub. I wanted a hot tub.

"Demyx, can we switch lives for a few weeks?" I asked, still in awe of his place. Axel chuckled, but Demyx's face went sour.

"Dude, no. It's lonely here, I wouldn't want that for you. When you come home there's your mom who made dinner for you all by herself and shit. I don't even know what I'm eating half the time."

I figured he had a point, and I patted his back softly. He smiled and offered me a drink in a red cup. I refused, I'd made a promise to Axel after all.

The party was nice. I noticed everyone was drinking from the red cups, but Axel and me. At some point, when most people weren't capable of speaking clearly anymore, Axel and I just stuck with each other. We sat on some bench, deep in the garden, secluded from everyone else, and we just talked. I thought he looked more relaxed than I had seen him in a long time, maybe the last time had been at the sleepover all those years back.

"Say Axel, remember that day you slept over at my house?"

Axel tensed a bit. "Yeah, why?" He wouldn't look at me. He probably felt guilty for not showing up for dinner the day after and not letting us know why. He choose not to bring it up, it had been so long ago after all.

"I was just thinking about it. That was really nice. Maybe we could do that again sometime? But instead of watching movies all night we could play some games." I was talking fast, I was a bit nervous to ask him and excited at the same time. He didn't say anything though, just looked at me with wide eyes. I must've been crazy for asking; two boys sleeping over? Sleep overs were for girls! So I quickly added: "If you want, of course." I blushed and looked away. I missed Axel's smile.

"I'd love to, we really had a good time, didn't we?" He flung his arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him. He smelled nice. I felt my cheeks grow redder by the second. It was a good thing I was so close to him, that way he couldn't see.

"Yeah." I smiled.

She was throwing glasses on the floor. In retrospect, I was lucky she didn't throw them at me. I probably would have deserved it, but I was glad nonetheless. She was screaming hysterically but incoherent. I couldn't understand a word she was saying.

"Nam-"

Another glass. God, why did she have to break all of our dishes? We needed those. This was really immature.

"Naminé, stop. You'll break everything." She would stop, flailing her arms around frantically. There went a plate. It had been a wedding present, and I stopped to think about the irony in that. I took a few steps towards her - endangering my life, I was sure - and grabbed one of her arms. I was a bit rougher than I needed to be, but there was no stopping her otherwise. He turned her around, and switched my hold to her shoulders. "Nam," I started again, "Stop it. You're hysterical. Take a deep breath, please."

She did as I asked, but the fire in her eyes grew. She tried to get away from me, but I wouldn't let her. I had to protect our dishes. She started to slam her tiny fists onto my torso. Again, and again, and again. When I changed later that night, I noticed I had bruises. She wouldn't stop, kept going, until she physically wasn't capable anymore. She just fell into my arms and cried, until there were no more tears left to cry. By then, she just stood there. We stayed that way for maybe five minutes, before she pulled away. This time I let her, I knew she wouldn't continue her serial killing of our glasses.

"I'm going to bed," she stated. I nodded and cleared my throat.

"Okay," I said.

She turned around suddenly. "Okay? Okay?! Everything is just 'okay' with you these days, Roxas! I can't take it anymore. Everything is not okay! I'm sorry for what happened, but that was ages ago and you just need to accept it. You've lost nearly everyone because of it, and you're close to losing me! All of this, no one deserved how you treated us. We tried to help, but all you do is push away. Like we're not worth your time anymore." She had started crying again, her voice growing louder with each word passing her chapped lips. "You know what, Roxas? We are worth your time. But he isn't. Because he isn't here, and we are. We are real, and we are here. Stop lingering in the past."

She looked at me, knowing what she had said had struck a chord. Several chords, in fact. She was testing me, to see what I would do or say. I was seething, almost seeing red, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of me. Fuck that. Fuck that! I pushed passed her, hitting her shoulder harshly with mine, and left.