Don't Leave
I sit on our bed and I watch you pack your stuff. I can't believe that this is really happening. It seems so surreal, so strange. But still you are doing it. You are packing. You throw your little bag onto the floor whilst you open the next drawer. You grab the next few items out and throw them into the shabby green bag. You take your life out of the drawers and pack them away.
And I can't still believe that this is happening.
"I can't do it anymore. I'm so sorry. But I can't." Those were your words when you told me that you were going to move out today. I didn't see it coming. I have no idea what has happened between us for you to want to do this. But you just kept saying over and over again that you can't do it anymore and slowly you started packing your bag.
The zip of your bag is loud when you close it. It's like the sound of thunder growling in heaven. It's just a zip. A small simple thing. But still it feels like it destroys my whole world. My whole world in just one second.
"I'm so sorry." You say to me with your gentle voice. I don't even know why you are sorry. But you look at me with the saddest eyes in the world and I can feel my heart break. Slowly, gently. But it keeps breaking.
You lift your hand and stroke it gently over my cheek. "I love you. Don't forget this." And with a breath of a kiss you are gone. I just stand here and stare at the door which is closed now.
"Don't leave." I whisper. But it's too late. You are gone. And there is nothing in the world that could stop it. There is nothing in the world that can stop my heart from breaking.
I fall to the floor and I can feel my tears running down my cheeks. They are hard and heavy. I didn't cry a tear before. Not at the moment when you told me it was over and not when you said that you would move out. Not a single tear. But now staring at the closed door I can't help it. I can feel the tears inside of me. They are choking me. Bitter and sharp. I can't fight them.
I know it's never been easy to love someone like me. But I always hoped that you could do it. That you could love me despite all of my faults and bad habits. Despite all of the mistakes that I have made. I thought that you could love me with my bad moods in the morning and my crappy jokes every evening. I really thought that you could love me forever. I guess I was wrong.
But I suppose the irony of all this; is that I can feel that my love for you is still as strong as ever. It is burning in my heart. And every time I close my eyes I just see you. You and nothing else. I really can't believe that you left.
Please.
Please don't leave.
part 2
I'm sitting here in this shabby bed and breakfast and have no idea what's happened. It seems like I've forgotten about the last few hours, even the last few month and I really don't know why I'm here. It all just seems so surreal and not like some part of my life.
But it doesn't matter how much I try and pretend that it hasn't happened. I know that it has. I left my flat a few hours earlier and I left the love of my life.
When I woke up this morning I didn't think that this would be how the day ended. I just opened my eyes and reached my arm out to the side of me. But he wasn't there. Like all the other days the bed was cold and threatening. It had become quite a habit. Me waking up alone. And he would come home later in the day. Sometimes it would be midday, sometimes even later.
I hoped so much that after everything that had happened in Scotland he would be able to get past all of the bad stuff and begin to move on. But instead he started drinking more and more. Came back even later or sometimes wouldn't come back for days.
I needed him so much. When I came back from Hollyoaks with this big wound on my cheek I just wanted to get home to him. Be back in his arms and hear his soothing voice telling me that everything would be all right. But he wasn't there. So I just sat there on our bed and waited. And hell I waited a very long time.
When he finally got home he was pissed. He didn't even see the injury on my face. He just babbled something about being glad that I was back and fell asleep immediately. And left me to wait so much longer.
When he woke up the next day he finally noticed everything. Me in my still dirty clothes sitting on our bed. The big bandage on my face. Finally he asked me how I got it. And then I told him. He listened. Just stared at me and listened.
When I got to the part where Niall almost killed me I could feel the tears in my eyes. I was so messed up. Everything hurt and I really just wanted his arms around me. But he just sat there and stared at me. Without a hint of emotion.
After some time I finished my story, told him that Niall was dead. I thought he would be relieved. But he was nothing like that. He just stood up and left. God knows where to. He came back after a couple of hours. And of course he was drunk again.
I never thought that I could feel more alone in that second. I never thought that he could hurt me like that.
But I buried everything. I just hoped that things would be better eventually. That he would come to his senses. That he would let me help him and he could help me in return. I prayed for it every night. I wished that things could be like they were before. We were happy, we were really happy and I didn't want to believe that Niall had managed to ruin everything. I just didn't want to believe.
But time went by and things didn't go back to normal. We got to a state where I almost never saw him sober. It was such a strange thing to see. My beautiful, strong and proud John Paul breaking down and I couldn't even help him.
And then there was this last day. Today. I woke up and he wasn't there. Like always. I got up and walked into the living room. And there he was. Lying on the sofa with a vodka bottle in his arm. I just stood there, watched him. I wasn't even shocked anymore. I'd seen him like this so often.
But something was different. I don't even know what. I just looked at him and suddenly he smiled a little bit in his sleep. I hadn't seen him crack a smile for months. But this smile, this tiny little smile woke me up.
This wasn't my John Paul anymore. This was just his shell, his body. His soul was long gone. And I missed him. I really missed being with him. I missed his laugh, his gentle touch. I missed waking up next to him or goofing around in the kitchen. I missed him with every fibre of my being. I just wanted one thing. One simple thing. I wanted my John Paul back.
And so I left. I couldn't stay.
I hope so much that he will see it now. What he is losing. What he is giving up for this.
People always say that sometimes you have to let someone down so that they can recover.
I just hope that they are right. I just hope it.
Part 3
I have no idea how long I was sitting there. It could have been hours, maybe days. I just didn't have a clue. The beer cans eventually became vodka bottles. Every now and then I fell into a fitful sleep. Just to startle a few minutes later and hope that everything was just a bad dream.
I really can't believe that he has gone. I mean I know he has. I saw him leaving. But I just have this silly expectation that he will be back in a few minutes. Recognising what a big mistake he made. I mean he loves me, of that I am certain. He always loved me and he always came back for me. It didn't matter what I did, no matter how far I pushed him away he always came back. Always. And somewhere deep down inside of me I'm so sure that it's just a matter of time before he will come back.
He loves me. He needs me. He can't be without me. Never.
I take another big gulp from my bottle and feel the warm liquor running down my throat. It feels so good, makes me feel alive. It eases all the pain inside of me, numbs me from the inside out.
I love this. I need this. I can't be without it. Not yet.
Eventually I fall asleep again. But this time I don't wake up straight away. I sleep long enough to let the dreams come. Dreams of Tina and of her death. Dreams of her cold body lying on the hard church floor. I can hear Dom again. I can hear him cry over my sister. I can't cry, or move I just sit there and watch them both.
When I turn my head I can see Kieron. I can hear his death rattle. It sounds so awful and I can feel my heart breaking. He looks at me and I can see in his eyes all the questions he never got to ask me. Why did I choose him? Of all people? Why him? If he had never met me he would still be alive? But he had the misfortune to meet me. And this was his fate. I can see him dying in front of me. He tries to keep his eyes open but they are too heavy. And with a last growl he is gone.
But suddenly I can hear a scream. It's heartbreaking. And I know what I will see next. I dream this dream so often. I have lost count of how many times. I can't turn around. I simply can't. The picture which is waiting for me is too much. I can't watch it. But an invisible ghost forces me to turn around, to face my worst nightmare.
And there he is. My beautiful, stunning boyfriend tied up on a chair with my psycho brother behind him. I can see the blade of the large knife pressing against his throat. I can see it glistering in the light. And I can see Craig's blood dripping from the silver blade. Niall is looking at me with the most diabolic smile ever. He just puts the knife a little bit deeper into the tender skin of his neck. He is everything to me, my world. More blood runs from his throat and I can hear a strange gargle coming from his mouth. He tries to open his eyes again, tries to look at me. But he is too weak. And with a last, silent breath he is gone.
And with this image in my mind I'm awake again. I'm shivering, can feel the tears inside my eyes. But I have cried too much, shed too many tears. I choke hard and fight them back into my heart. I take another big gulp from my bottle. But this time it doesn't sooth me. It's not enough. It's never enough.
And so I take the bottle and drink the clear fluid all at once. I reach for another bottle and take another sip. Eventually it will be enough to make the pain bearable.
I can't just loose him. These pictures are so scary, so real. I have watched him die so many times. I have heard his last breath. And it's killing me. It won't stop. He is the most important thing in my life.
Without him nothing makes sense. But what if he dies before me?
Not through the hand of my psycho brother?
Maybe because of a car accident?
An illness?
What can I do then?
I can't live without him. I can't lose him. I just can't.
I wipe my hands across my eyes and sweep away all the tears.
And it's then it hits me.
He already left me.
Part 4
Time passed by in a blur. Each day coming and going in just one quick motion. The sun still rose in the morning and settled down on a bright red horizon.
But for me it feels like the whole world has stopped. I can't even explain how I feel right now. I just can't. It's like this big and incredible part of me is missing. It's like I've lost the little sparkle that keeps me going. As I said. I can't even describe it.
At first the people in my office asked me if everything was alright. But they soon stopped when I wouldn't give them any answers. I didn't want to talk about it. Not with them, not with anybody else. Steph once called and she knew immediately that something was wrong. So she asked me. It was the only time I ever let my tears overwhelm me. I sobbed quietly while she was on the other end of the line just listening. But I never said a word. I choked my tears back and said that everything was alright. And then she did the most amazing thing ever and I will never forget that. She just said that she would always be there for me. That if I ever needed her she would be just a teardrop away. I think I never loved her more than in that second.
Most of the time I just sit at home. Or what I call home these days. It's a shabby, little hotel room but it's cheap so I guess I can stay here for a while. I can't go and find a new flat. I mean I could afford it. This hotel room probably costs just as much as a flat but I just can't go and move out. I mean I have a home. Or to be more precise I had a home. But to search for a new flat would just confirm that I closed this last chapter of my life and I moved on. And I'm not ready to leave my old life behind. I just can't. It was my life with John Paul. And it was the best time in my life, but sadly the most hurtful time too.
I don't think too much about John Paul.
I just think about him after waking up in my bed alone. When I reach with my hand next to me and hope that there will be the warmth of his body beside me. Or when I have breakfast in this tiny café thinking about what he would order. I think about him most of the time at work. I wonder if he went to work last night. If he is alright? If he is even home and safe? When I go home I wonder if he will go out again tonight. When I eat my dinner I think about all the times he cooked for me. About us, sitting together just having a good time. And when I go to sleep my head is full of pretty dreams about him.
Yeah I think altogether I'm doing a pretty good job not thinking too much about him.
But maybe I should be honest. Honest for just once. And if I have to tell the truth than I have to say that I'm miserable without him. I can't even function properly. It's like a constant pain in my chest. And I can't do anything about it. I've lost count of how many nights I've woken up because I thought he was dead. I've lost count of all the tears I have shed. I am not even sure anymore if leaving was the right decision. While I was still with him I could look after him, make sure he was okay. I could protect him…
But while I'm thinking I remember that I left for a reason. I couldn't protect him. He wouldn't even let me in. And that was the reason why I left him in the first place. To protect him. To protect him from himself.
I tried to ring him a million times. But after dialling his number I hung up immediately. I would die to hear his voice, to see his blue eyes. But I know if I did then I would run back to him within a second.
I know my thinking at the moment doesn't make much sense. It's confused, chaotic. But this is how I feel. My heart is crushing into a million little pieces because I'm not with him. All I want to do is run back to him and beg him for forgiveness. But something in my mind tells me that I can't do it. If I love him, if I really love him I have to stay strong and wait for him.
But to be honest I don't even know if I trust him enough anymore to believe that he will come back for me.
And so my days went by. Nothing happened and my faith in him disappeared more and more.
But then in the darkest hour of my life, I got his letter...
Part 5
Dear Craig I think this is my fifth attempt to write this letter to you. I never thought that it could be so hard to write a letter to you. You were always my best friend. The person I could turn to when I was down. You always understood me without any words. But now I just don't know what to say. Maybe I should start with the important things. I love you, Craig. It started when I first saw you in the common room and it never stopped until today. You are my first thought in the morning and the last in the evening. And most of the time you are with me even in my dreams. Yeah, especially now you are not here with me. I dream every night about you. About your smile, about your beautiful eyes and about the way you are. I miss you, babe. I really miss you. And I wish that you would still be here, right by my side to help me with everything. But then again you helped me much more then you ever can imagine. I didn't understand it when you left. And yeah, I have to confess that I was pretty angry with you. How could you leave me like that? You knew how much I needed you but you left me anyway. And in that second I really thought that was it. I couldn't cope with anything anymore. I just wanted to die. Leave this cruel world. And so I spent the next few days drinking as much as I could. But while I sat there on our couch and tried to end everything all I could think about was you. And suddenly I understood why you left me. Not because you didn't love me anymore. You left because you love me too much. And you couldn't stay here and watch me destroy myself. Suddenly I knew how it felt for you to lose me and believe me that pain was almost too much to bear. But it also opened my eyes. Craig, you can't believe how sorry I am. I don't think that there will ever be words to describe how I feel about all this. I could try it with a sorry but I don't think that sorry even comes close. And I understand that you can't live with me anymore. But I want to let you know that I got help. I'm seeing a counsellor now two times a week. And I go to this support group. It's a group for people who lost somebody in their life. And it helps. It really helps. I know it's a little bit silly to say but I'm quite proud of it. I haven't drunk for four weeks now. I know that these are just baby steps but my counsellor told me to be proud of every day I stay sober and get on with my life. And I actually am. I know that I can't do anything to make you forget all the mistakes I've made, all the grief I've caused. I know that it's too late. But I really want you to know that you were always on my mind. Even in the darkest hours after everything that happened with the church and Scotland. You were my everything and you were in every thought. I know that it must seem to you that you didn't mean anything to me. But that's not true. Part of the problem was that I was just so afraid of losing you. Don't get me wrong. I don't want to blame you. I just want to explain. I mean look at my reaction after everything that happened with Tina and Kieron. I can just imagine what would happen to me if something happened to you. I can't bear the thought of you being hurt. It would kill me. I know I have a strange way of showing it. But I was just afraid of losing you. It's ironic because over my fear of losing you I really lost you. And I can understand why. But maybe I should stop bothering you. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I really am. And I miss you. More than you can imagine. Thank you for everything. You saved me. Like you always did. Maybe we can be friends again. Someday. Somehow. I love you, Craig. I really do. John Paul.
I look at the paper in my hand and suddenly some of the ink starts to blur. It's just now that I notice it. I'm crying. The first time in a long time I let the tears flow. Let them fall and go down my cheeks. And finally I can breathe again.
Part 6
How do you react after a letter like that? I have no idea. My first reaction was to run to his door and run back to him. But I never reached the door. It took me just two steps to realise that it's not that simple. My heart was screaming to run back to him but my head was telling me to wait. So I went back to my sofa and read the letter again and again; hoping that I would find the answer as to what to do next in his writing.
I've read it so many times that the ink starts fading. I know every word by heart. But I still have no idea where to go from here. I close my eyes and let myself fall back into the soft pillows.
Please. I need help. I really need help. What should I do right now? Where is the way? Where is my way? I try to concentrate on my breathing because I can feel the tears start to flow again. Why can't this be easy? I always thought that I just needed a sign from him. A sign that everything would be better. But what if I go back and everything is exactly as it was? What if I destroy everything he achieved in the time we were apart? What if he doesn't want me anymore?
I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. I need answers. But I'm sure I won't find them here in this room. I stand up and grab my coat and the keys.
The cold wind is touching my hair and it kind of soothes me. It's a brilliant spring day and the sky above me is crystal blue. Like his eyes. The flowers on the wayside are starting to blossom and the trees are getting their first few leaves. Everything seems to start a new. A brand new world. And I am in the middle of it.
I sit down on the next park bench and just watch the people pass by. Some are in quite a hurry, some are alone. But here and there; there are people who just don't seem to notice the rest of the world. They are holding hands, laughing and they only seem to see each other. I know how it feels. I still can remember it. It used to be like this with us. When I looked into his blue eyes, when I heard his soft laugh. It always felt like nothing in this world mattered anymore. Just him.
And suddenly I know what I have to do. I stand up and start to walk. I don't have to think about it. It just happens automatically. My feet find the right way whilst my head is completely void of any thought. I have no idea what I will say when I am there. I have no idea what I will do. But right now I just know that I have to see him. I have to see him with an urgency that almost takes my breath away. I can't wait any longer. It feels like I am an addict who needs his next fix. Did he feel like this all the time?
Suddenly my short journey comes to an end. There it is. The big blue door that leads to our flat. I know he is there. I can see the light in the living room. I can feel his presence in every fibre of my being. Just one more step and I am home. One more step. I am just too afraid to make it.
Part 7
I can't believe that he is here. In my arms, in our bed. I don't even dare to close my eyes. I'm so afraid that it will all be just a dream and when I wake up again he will be gone and I will just have this cold, lonely bed without my life and soul.
It was such a nice spring evening when he finally knocked on my door. I had just come back from my counselling session. I was in a good mood. The session went pretty well and I could finally admit that the sessions were really helping. I should have gone to see a counsellor ages ago. Maybe it would have saved me, saved him.
I was so deep in my thoughts that I almost didn't hear the soft knock on the front door. It took a second knock for me to notice. I don't know why but in this second I just knew that it was him. My heart started beating so fast like it was trying to escape my body and flee to him. My legs were shaking when I slowly made my way to the door. I gently laid my hand on the handle but hesitated.
I knew that he was on the other side of the door. I could feel him. I could almost hear his breathing. I'd prayed and wished for this moment for such a long time but now when he was finally here I was so afraid. What if he just came to end things properly? If he was just here to take his stuff with him and leave me and my life forever?
But when I finally opened the door I knew why he was here. I could see it in his eyes.
We didn't say a word when he came into the flat where we shared our happiest but also saddest moments. We just looked into each other's eyes. There was no need for words.
He gently took my hand and led me to our bedroom. He slowly pulled down my clothes until I stood bare before him. He touched my body, so gentle, so tender that I almost started to cry. And after I did the same to him we just stood there and watched each other.
We were bare, exposed and vulnerable. We were naked. Just us. And nothing else left.
And while I looked at the man in front of me, the man I loved with all my heart, with all my soul, I could feel the tears slowly rise in my throat. They burnt and stung. They desperately fought for a way out. I choked and blinked, tried to fight them back. No more crying John Paul. Be strong.
But then I could feel his hand gently on my cheek. His thumb stroked over my skin. And this simple gesture was enough. The tears were falling. Free and wild. For the first time since my sister died I cried in front of him. Let him see how hurt and bruised I was. Let him see the real me again.
This night we spend together. Not in a sexual way. We just lay in our bed together. Him with his strong arms around me and me with my head on his chest. But our eyes never left each other.
We never spoke a word. It is as they say; there is a time to talk and there is a time to be silent. And tonight there were no words necessary.
Because tonight was the time to feel.
Part 8
The sun slowly makes her way through the curtain and falls on his wonderful face. His hair shines in an angelic, almost celestial way. He looks so peaceful. His eyes are closed and his breathing tells me that he is still fast asleep. I just take my time to look at him. To see every single feature of his face. He is smiling. Just a little bit. Just like he is having a wonderful dream. Just like he did all the time before all the nightmares started.
I ask myself how long it's been since we last spent a night together. When was the last time he lay here in my arms and spent the whole night with me? When I recognise that I can't even remember I can feel this hard and sudden pain in my chest. The same pain that has consumed me every day for the last few months. The same pain that has followed me since the moment I walked out of his life.
The tears are slow and heavy when they start falling down my cheeks. I can't even bring myself to wipe them away. I just let them fall. I don't really know why I am crying. I mean, I am here now. Here with him. Here in his arms. But what does all this mean? Are we back together? Can everything ever be alright again? Can we start anew? And I am so afraid of the answers that the tears just start falling heavier.
When the first tear touches his face he turns a bit and tries to wipe it away. But then he opens his eyes and I can see so much concern and fear in them. What does all this mean?
He slowly raises his hand and strokes over my cheek wiping all the tears away. His voice is trembling when he finally speaks to me.
"Why are you crying?"
But I just look at him. I don't even know why I'm crying. There are just so many feelings in my mind right now. Fear, happiness, sorrow, joy, pain, love. So many things just running through my head, my body. And I have no idea how to explain it.
"I… I can't… I mean, I really want to tell you… But I don't know how…"
I'm just rambling, stuttering. And I mean it. I have no idea how to explain. Where...
But he just smiles at me. A simple encouraging smile.
"Just start at the beginning."
And so I start. I tell him everything. I tell him how afraid I am. How many tears I've cried over this and how hurt I am. I tell him how terrible everything was without him in my life and how nothing made sense without him next to me to share it with me. I tell him how angry I was most of the time. Angry at him for hurting me like this. Angry at myself for hurting us like this. I tell him how I slowly got more desperate every day. And I tell him how I feel about him. I tell him that I still love him, that he is everything in my whole world and that I just want him to be happy. Just want him to be his old self again.
And when I finish my side of the story he starts talking. He tells me everything about the last few months. Some things are just too hard to listen too. Some things make me cry. And some things just make me love him even more.
And then he goes quiet. He has told me enough. He just told me everything.
Now we are here. Naked on the inside and the outside. Like small children. Innocent and pure.
And we are ready to make a brand new start.