He paced around the room for a final lap before sitting down. The pen was shaking in his hand, tapping the wooden surface as it always did during times of intense emotional turmoil. His leg was shaking up and down. He needed to calm down or else he was never going to get this out of his system. He took a long breath in and exhaled slowly. It helped minimally but something was better than nothing. He put the pen down to steady his hand before putting pen to paper. If he wasn't completely focused then maybe that would defeat the purpose of all of this. He needed relief so everything had to be just so. He opened his favorite notebook and allowed the pen to flow freely. As it glided and created the words that were not new but being finally expressed out in the open he began to feel more free. For the first time letting a caged bird spread its wings. And just like that it was over. All the words were out. It felt cathartic. He peered onto the page to see what actually had come out, since he had thought so many times before about what it would say. It read:
"Missing someone that I've never been with.
Dreading being around someone who is not them.
He can't compare.
It isn't his fault.
He tries but can never know what is truly needed.
I feel in a space a comfort being alone.
But that may be in the ridiculous notions of what could be and never will be.
He's not him and never can be."
He reread the page again and felt sadness envelope him. It wasn't fair to anyone that life was like this. Himself, his lover, and his obsession It was painful to suffer in silence. He felt the all too familiar ache in his chest. But this was the way it had to be. He took the pen and made one final note to title the work 'Unrequited Love'. The door creaked open jolting him from the depressed solitude.
"Hey Michael, are you ready to go out tonight?" said a familiar voice. A melodic voice that he was used to singing in tandem with.
"Oh yeah, just let me put away my notebook," Mike responded.
"Oh I love it when you write, Babe. You have such a beautiful mind. What is this about?"
Mike sighed as he closed his notebook and tucked it away in a drawer. He felt guilt well up in him. There was no way he could let the person that loved him most know that he was writing about someone they were both close to. It would hurt even more. It already hurt him more than if the circumstances had made the situation with any two other, random guys. It was too close to home.
"Just something that's never going to come to fruition."
Mike put his arm around his companion and headed out the bedroom door, swallowing all the depression and guilt that would eventually come back.