-1I've had enough of his stubbornness.

I don't know all the details, but I do know that it wasn't suppose to be like this. It's been a full three months since he came to me, distraught, malnourished, and a full blown insomniac.

Three months. That's the longest amount of time that he has been away from him since our fourth year in school. And that had only lasted a few weeks.

As much as I love him and enjoy his company, he's driving me insane. If I try to talk about why he's here, he expertly changes subjects until I in defeat and leave him to his brooding.

He tells me he that wants me, that he needs me, that it's always been me. I know it's the loneliness speaking.

The scotch on his breath is a dead give away.

He needs him,not me. I have known that for quite some time now. I had my suspicions, and my freak-out when those suspicions became true, but eventually I came to terms with it.

Once again I find him sitting in a chair next to my bed, watching me sleep. It unnerved me the first few times I woke to find him sitting there. I've never questioned it, finding that it may be an answer I don't want to learn.

He seems startled as I sit up.

"Good morning." I yawn behind my hand, and begin to unbraid my hair.

"Morning." He replies. I see from the look on his face that it wasn't the greeting he was expecting.

I sense that he is on the edge of making a decision so I now I do what any good friend would do, I prod, poke, lecture, and threaten until he agrees do something about it.

"I can't do it alone." He confessed, burying his head in his hands as if the idea of facing him was too much for his head to hold itself up. "We haven't spoken so much as three words to each other in as many months. I doubt he'll feel like opening up to me now, otherwise he would have tried already?"

I use the time of pulling on my bathroom robe to think of a response. "Now's not the time to think about what could or should have happened and think about what you're going to do now."

He shifts his head to face me. "I know. You're right."

I place a hand on his shoulder and give it a light squeeze. "Shall I make coffee?"

"Sure," he nods.

I stand and head over to my bedroom door.

"Just thought I needed to be stronger than this." He whispers.

I know I was not meant to hear it, but I can't stop myself from responding.

"Who told you had to be?"