------ I never felt this story was finished so I am continuing on…

"No Collins, he isn't home yet… I will, I promise, Collins, I will call you the second he comes through that door. I'm sure he understands why you can't be here… yup… uh-huh… ok! Don't worry, I'll call you… fine, I'll talk to you later." I hang up the phone and go back to the window and looking out for Roger. I don't know how he will get here or what direction he will be coming from, but I stare down at the front door. The phone rings again.

"Hello? Oh, Maureen, hey… no he isn't here yet… I don't know what time… no, it would probably be best if it is just me waiting here for him… ok, well have fun with Joanne then. Yeah, I really want to meet her too,… ok, I love you." She hangs up the phone before I can get the I love you out. I tangle the phone wire around my finger as I stand staring out the window.

A cab pulls up in front of our building a few hours later and Roger steps out. He looks different, better. He got his hair cut, so it is back to its usually short spiky style, and the facial hair is all gone. I watch him pay the driver and I silently debate if I should go meet him at the door or not. I go over to our mangled sofa and sit and pretend to flip through a magazine, but as I hear his boots climbing the stairs I get up and go and open the door to our loft.

"Hey, welcome home." My smile is miles wide, I am unable to hold in my excitement.

"Hey Mark. Thanks." He gives me an awkward hug and walks further inside. "Uh, I'm going to go shower and change."

"Oh ok! Do you want me to get some food or something?" My voice is high and my speech is fast.

He just shrugs, "It's up to you." He disappears into his room and then a few seconds later into the bathroom. So this is what I was waiting for? His big return to real life. I knew it wasn't going to be easy, I just hoped it would be.

I fall back into the couch and close my eyes. I really don't know how to act or what to say. I hear the water in the shower go on and I decide to run out and get some food. I grab my coat and go to the corner store and buy two sandwiches and get back just as the shower is turned off. I find two clean plates and put our lunch on them and carry mine to the couch. Roger comes out of the bathroom, dressed, grabs his sandwich and he sits next to me. We sit in silence for a little while.

"So, how was it? How are you feeling?" My voice is soft and timid, I'm afraid to bring up the conversation.

"I'm ok, it was ok. Well, no really it was the hardest thing I ever did, but I survived." He takes a bite of his sandwich, "I'm glad I went though, I don't think you could have handled seeing me like that."

Now it was my turn to shrug, "I'm sure I have seen you much worse."

He nods, "There was just a lot of shit all at once, you know… April, AIDS, withdrawal, I didn't think I was strong enough."
"Well, I knew you were, I mean, I know you are. I'm glad you went though, not that I wouldn't have been there for you, but it was probably good for you to get away."

Again he nods as he finishes his sandwich. "I had a lot of time to think, a LOT of time. I don't know… I think I am my own worse enemy, you know? I am terrified to go out there again and face all those people I used to hang out with, my old band, the people at the clubs. I know how easy it would be for me to shoot up again, and I know how good it would feel. But I can't. My life wasn't worth shit when I was using." I sit and silently agree as he continues, "I also know, I will never go through withdrawal again, so if I do it once, that is it for me." That last statement scares me, but I still remain silent. He gets up off the couch and goes to the window, "I know what I have to do to get better, so don't question me, ok?"

"Sure, ok." I can tell that the conversation is now over. "Collins wanted you to call him when you got home. His number is next to the phone."

After Roger and Collins' brief conversation, Roger comes back to the couch and sits down and closes his eyes. I don't know what I expected, but this wasn't it.

"Hey, do you want to get out of here? Go to a movie or just walk around?" I sit down next to him.

He shakes his head, "No, I really just want to be home for awhile. You go though, I'll be ok."

"No, I want to hang out with you. It's been… well it has been a long time." He looks at me sternly, "Why don't you get your guitar and we can play cheesy 80's band or something?"

He looks over to where his guitar sits, cobwebs attaching it to the wall. "No, not really interested." He picks up the old Village Voice I had lying around, "Look Mark, I really don't want you hovering over me. I'm ok, really."

"Oh, ok." I get off the couch, getting the point. "Well, I'll go to Maureen's for a little while then. If you need something call me over there." He hardly responds to me, just nods. "Roger, you sure you are ok?"
"I'm fine, just go, ok?" I grab my coat and stop at the door. I'm about to say something else, but I decide not to bother and leave him behind. Something worries me, the determined look on his face, as if he had something planned. What he said before, about never going through withdrawal again keeps reentering my mind. I hope he is strong enough to stay away. I wish there was something I could to do to guarantee it.

Arriving at Maureen's place, I let myself in with her key. It is empty and then is when I remember that she was going out with her friend Joanne. I walk around her place, studying all her belongings, things I have already memorized but still enjoy looking at. There is a picture of the two of us sitting on her desk. I recognize it as it being taken by Collins on one of the first days we met. It used to be in a frame, but now it is just lying on the table. I pick it up and study it. It was two years old already, her hair was darker then, so was mine actually. She is facing forward and I am kissing her cheek, a perfect example of our relationship. I put it back on the desk and absentmindedly open the top drawer of her desk. A notebook is sitting on top and I take it out and open it. It takes me only seconds to see that it is a journal, so I quickly close it. Then, curiosity over takes me and I open it again, shutting it almost immediately. I put it back in its place, and grab my coat and leave before I let myself read one word.

All the way back to the loft, I fixate about that journal. I can't help but wonder what is written inside and why has she never mentioned to me that she keeps one? I know it isn't exactly my business, but all the time I have spent there, I have never seen her write in it. I get to my loft when I realize that I never did leave her a note, and convince myself to go back. But I know why I'm going back, so I make it to the end of the block before turning around. I run up the stairs and practically run into the loft, Roger is exactly where I left him. "Do not let me go back there, I can not be trusted."

"What are you talking about, and why are you out of breath?" He puts the Voice down on the floor and kicks his feet onto the couch. I rattle off my explanation about Maureen's diary and he shakes his head at me. "You need to learn to mind your own business. Oh wait, that wouldn't be you, would it?"

"Nope, not at all."

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Ok, more to come, I'm just tired and want to post this so…