A/N:Hey my lovely readers, As always I hope you enjoy even though this chapter is a bit dark.
It was cold. Freezing most likely, but I couldn't feel any of it; I was numb to everything around me. Everything but my pain. It devoured every inch of me, day and night to a point where I could barely stand being alive. I would endure, somehow. The last few days had been such a blur to me I couldn't even remember how it happened. I took it hour by hour trying not to cry, trying to ignore the hurt. Sometimes I think hearts are stronger than they should be. Why don't they just stop when they're broken? It doesn't seem fair. Then again, nothing about this situation was fair.
I put my head up and looked around, it was snowing now. Falling down from an almost black sky, on to the equally dismal looking grave yard. I never liked grave yards, Mark did, he said they had a sad beauty about them. I looked from tomb stone to tomb stone; there was no beauty here. Any beauty I had in my life now was gone. I watched the snow...it reminded me of him. Another pin in my heart, everything reminded me of him. He loved watching the snow from our window, the first snow fall of winter he would get so excited. It would make him smile so broadly. I loved his smiles...a now I'd never see them again.
They were all over there, putting down flowers or giving their last respects. I would not go over, no, I would stick to my stone cold bench. At least until they left. I couldn't bring myself to talk any of them even though they were my friends. They blamed me. How could they not? And what if they didn't, what would they say? They knew I was taking this the hardest. What if they tried to comfort me? They couldn't, he comforted me. No one else could do it right but him. He always knew what to say, when I never did. That's one of the reason I chose not to speak. I just couldn't do it.
They left one by one. Angel stayed the longest, she was a mess. Eventually Collins pulled her away and they were gone. I got up, walking slowly. Not wanting to see what I knew was there. Like I would get there and it would say something else, it would all be a mistake. It wasn't. When I saw it I sank to my knees no longer able to support myself. Everything about this was wrong. I closed my eyes tight an opened them again staring straight at the grave...his grave...Mark's grave. I heart hurt beyond the point of braking. Everything was darker now, my head was spinning. I didn't know what was going on. Was I dying? Fine, I didn't care. I tried to speak but nothing would come out. What words could sum up what I was feeling anyway? With shaking hands I folded his scarf, the one he was never went without and placed it at the base of the stone. I couldn't see anymore, eyes too blurred with tears. I tried to stand but I started to fall, I reached out for support but found nothing and fell.
I fell to the floor, my heart pounding out of my chest. Oh God, what was happening? I had to calm myself, I was shaking almost violently. I took a deep breath and looked about. I was in the loft. Not in a grave yard. My arm was hurting form my tumble from the couch. I had fallen asleep; It was dream. Heart racing I ran into my room. He was there, sickly, shuttering, and still alive. Suddenly I let out the most ghastly noise I had ever heard and slowly sank to the floor, crying harder then I had in a long time. Nothing had ever scared me so bad in my life. It felt so real. But he was here, he was still here. I had to keep saying that over and over again. He was still here ...but for how long?
I needed to be nearer to him. I stood and climbed into bed with him. I sat up, carefully wrapped the blankets around him, and held him close. He was shivering badly now, I leaned his head against my chest. I kissed the top of his head telling him that everything would be fine. This scared me almost as bad as my dream. This scene was so wrong; it wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be the other way around like when things were bad.
This reminded me of when I was going through withdraw. One night I felt like I was going insane. I was mad, screaming about everything I could think of. Then sad, crying on the floor, trying to claw my eyes out. Mark was always there. Even if he got no sleep for days, he would never leave my side...even when I pushed him away. One night I yelled at him, I even hit him a few times. But every time I sent him to the floor he would simply get back up and keep trying to help me. Even after this abuse, when I had gotten board with him and took to crying on the floor, Mark came over to me and held me. I loved it, even though sometimes when he tried this I would hit him away. He would just tell me that everything would be okay, that he was here. And that was all I really needed to know. At those times he was the only thing that seemed real in the world. I had never felt as much comfort as I did those nights in his arms.
Something Mark said to me, made me think about just how twisted all of this was. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Mark was the one to survive. I had never told this to anyone, especially not Mark, but I knew how I wanted to die. It may seem morbid, but when you have HIV it crosses your mind a few times. When I had to die, I wanted it to be like one of those nights. Me in Mark's arms. I'd be in pain but everything would feel so much better if I was with him. I think that would be the only place where I could die happy. And now this. This sick backwards reality I was in. What if it was really happening? What if Mark was dying in my arms? No! He was the one to survive, not me. He was the one to live a long happy life, not me. He was the one to hold the man he loved as he died, not me. I couldn't handle this, I liked the other way better. I whispered over and over how much I loved him, hoping that if I held him tight enough death wouldn't be able to catch him.
A/N: sorry if I scared you...
Soooo, how do you like the story so far? Good? :)
