For three years.
You didn't know, did you?
That she never told anyone, that she kept it all to herself. For three years.
Imagine that. She did it all for you, she did it because she loved you. But you couldn't see, wouldn't see probably. Were afraid to see.
It's understandable, what with the life you live. Never get too close to anyone, because they might get hurt. I was never worried about that, and you knew it. But with her, ah yes, with her, you couldn't her give everything. It was too much of a risk.
But did you know, that this way you hurt her even more? She was unhappy, she lied to herself to stay alive. All for you. For three years.
You should feel ashamed. You should feel sick, angry, and above all, you should feel sorry. No, don't look at me like that, I can't help you now. Mind you, I never helped you, but you chose to believe so.
She is gone now, gone from your life, but the guilt remains. I still see it in your eyes. I'm not put off by that, as you make me happy now. Sometimes I think you are going to leave me because of her. I wouldn't even get angry if you did, because I love you. Yes, I do, but you don't know, you don't see. You're blind to everything.
Did you know that she never said a word, that she ignored everything you said? She didn't wince when you screamed my name in the dead of the night, dreaming about me. She never complained when she had to wash the sheets yet again. She kept to herself mostly. For three years.
I can tell you're still not over her. And who would be? She was beautiful, the perfect wife, the girl every man wishes he had. And you had it, and were too blind to see. Was that because of me? Tell me, was it because of me that you did what you did? You didn't give her love, never in those three years. And still she stayed by your side. For three years.
Didn't you hear the people talk about you? Didn't you listen to your friends? I don't expect you did, you never listen. You don't listen to me, and you didn't listen to her. You didn't fulfil her needs, you didn't give her the love she wanted, or the sweet words she begged for with her eyes.
Her eyes were green, did you know? The same bright colour as yours and just as beautiful. Both had seen so much, and yet, they were different. Hers shone with love, with faith, with hope and with sadness, mostly. Yours shine with anger, with lust, with passion and sometimes, dare I say it, dare I hope it, love, for me, or for the "cause", maybe. I tell myself it is for me, just like she must've done. Somehow I understand her, know how she feels, though we are so different.
Is that what attracted you to me the first time? That I was so different from her? She was light, I was darkness. You are a dull grey, not fitting in anywhere. I expect you came to me because this is easy, though not many people would agree with you on that. Luckily not many people know. She knows of course, and some of your close friends know. I haven't told anyone. Maybe I am too ashamed by what I feel for you. Maybe telling someone would put me in danger. Maybe it would safe me. I will never know.
Did you know that she kept your family photo album with her, to remind her of the person you were, the person she was in love with. You never missed it, never asked her where it was. You were always busy. Always busy. For three years.
Now you sit at home mostly, staying with me. It's more than I could've hoped for. We sit next to each other on the couch, not talking, just looking around, thinking. You think of death and war. I think of hope and you. Sometimes you get so angry, by just sitting and doing nothing. Those times are the best, because then you give me attention. You hurt me, yes, but it feels nice. You touch me and I get to touch you.
Did you know your skin is soft, as soft as her hair was? But you wouldn't know, as you never touched her hair. You touch mine; you pull at it when things get rough. I never get to touch yours, but if your skin is anything to go by, it must be soft, like the clouds in heaven.
She tried to teach you how to love, teach you what love exactly is. Three years were too short for that. I took over from her, because she asked me to. At dawn, when I know you're awake, I teach you. Speak soft words, whisper sweet words that mean nothing in your ear. I hope you will learn sometime. To show me that you listened and that you really do love me.
I could leave you, you know? I really could, and I would, but I doubt it would make me any happier. I've always wanted you, ever since we met. Now I have you. No, you have me. But at least I'm with you this way.
You must love me though, because why do you still scream my name when you sleep? Why do you gasp when I touch you? And I know you used to love me once, in our schooldays. You told me then, right before you left. When I next heard from you, you were engaged to her.
I told you once, that I wasn't sure if I could live this way. If I could stay alive this way. You laughed, and pecked me on the lips. That was the first sign of affection you gave me after you left her. I was so happy then. Maybe there was still hope.
And yes, hope there was, because finally the day came that you gathered me in your arms and stroked my hair and put a wet kiss right next to my lips. I looked at your eyes and they now shone with love, this time really for me. Something had changed inside of you, and it showed on the outside.
I will always remember that day, as it was exactly three years after you left her and came back to me. And you have been true to me ever since that day, even though you were not your real self. And I know now that you loved me and still do. For three years.
Fin.