Disclaimer: Yup, I own them. I keep them tied to my bed and have fun with them at night. No…really.
Dedication: To Morgan, because she took the time to beta read this for me and, though she doesn't know it yet, she also gave me the idea for a sequel!
If I cut up my body and showed you my heart, broken in pieces with a shape of you right in the middle, then would you know the pain that I feel? The longing I face? The desire I have? Just for one second, couldn't you forget the fact that I'm your best friend, think past the present and into the future? I'd love you like no other, I'd worship you and treasure the very ground you walked on. I'd write you poems and hold you close to me as we lay on the beach late at night, watching the brilliant stars fade with the first glimpse of sunlight. Oh, to only hold you, to have you like I know I never could. I would give nothing more than to just have one night… Just one night with you, holding you in the warmth of my arms, protecting you from the bitter cold and pain of the rest of the world. What would it take for me to convince you, for me to show you? You hold my world, my heart, my very soul in the palm of your hand, and you know this, yet you continue to abuse your power and break these things at any given chance. You, my love, my best friend, my worst enemy… So much love and so much hate wrapped into one person. They feed off each other, this love and hate. They coexist, refusing to give in fully to one or the other. I love you with a heart that's pure and a need that cannot compare to any other, and yet I hate you at the same time, hate the way you toy with my emotions and feed off my confusion. I've told you time and time again the way I feel, but somehow I don't think you understand… Because how could anybody understand these things? I'm not even sure that I do. They are beyond words, beyond comprehension. Love=pain=death. I've known this since the moment I first came to realize what my feelings were for you. But never before has this realization been so clear as it has these past few days. Love=pain=death. Love? I do, I love you so fully and so wholly that at times I myself am shocked at the purity and depth of my emotions. Pain? There is that, without question. My whole life has been centered around pain, and this pain has only grown enormously in the years I've gotten to know you. And death? Yes, I am this too. Emotionally, I am already dead, have already died long ago. When you broke my heart for the first time my life shattered into a million pieces and these pieces have yet to be put back together. Since that first night you've tried to put me together, tried to glue the pieces of my broken soul back together, but the bond is weak and always breaks again. Finally, after fifteen years of thinking and writing and filming and watching and breaking and pining and hiding I've come to the realization that no matter what, I will always be a broken soul… A painting never finished, a song without a tune. Without you I am, and never will be, complete, and this understanding has led me to another: I cannot go on like this anymore, and so I have decided to finish the mission I started on so long ago when I came to love you. Love=pain=death. Love, pain, and now death. Physical death. I love you Roger, I always have and I always will… Even if you could never find it in your heart to love me.
Always,
Mark
Stay tuned for the sequel: What happened "that night?"