It was quiet. Too quiet. It was quiet because she was sleeping. He knew she was. He could tell by the steady rhythm of her breathing. Her breathing was all that he could hear.
So he listened. He lay there and listened. Listened to her breath. In the dark. In his arms. And it reminded him why he was here. Why he had come. Why he always came.
For peace. For comfort. And acceptance.
He came for them all. He needed them all.
That's why he came. Why he came to her. Because he knew she would give him what he needed. She always did. Every time he was with her.
And she had. She had given him what he so desperately needed. What he always needed. To be accepted. To be wanted. She had made him feel wanted. Made him feel content. Content to be here. With her. Beside her. In her bed. Holding her. And listening. Just listening to her breath. Slow. And steady. Soft.
And it soothed him. Her breathing soothed him. It soothed his pain. Soothed his fears. And his sorrows.
But it wouldn't last. He knew it wouldn't. It never did.
Not for him.
No matter how much he wanted it too. How much he needed it to. It never lasted. It would never last for him because he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve it to last. He didn't deserve to be content. Didn't deserve to be accepted. Or wanted. Not by her. And not by anybody.
He didn't deserve it because of the things he had done. So many things he had done. Too many things. Horrible things. Things that he didn't want to think about. Things that he couldn't think about.
So he pushed them away. Locked them away. Locked them away deep inside himself. Inside himself with who he really was. Because they were the same. Those things he had done. They were the same as who he really was. And he couldn't think about that.
About who he really was.
So instead he pretended. Pretended he was someone else. Pretended to be someone else. Until he couldn't pretend anymore. Until pretending hurt too much. Hurt too much to continue. And then he would give in. He would give in to his need. His need to be wanted. His need to be accepted. His need to be loved.
And he would come here.
He would come back to her. Like he always did. Like he did tonight.
Even though it was wrong. Wrong for him to come here. To come to her. To need her.
He came anyway.
And now he had to leave. He had to leave here. He had to leave her. He had to leave now.
Like he always did.
Every time. He had to leave before she woke. Because once she woke she would know. She would know that he was pretending. Pretending to be someone else. Someone better. Someone good enough. Or maybe just someone good.
And he wasn't.
He wasn't someone good.
Not now. And not ever.
He knew that.
So he had to leave. Before she would know.
He lifted his arm from around her. He lifted it off her body. He put it tight to his side. And he lay still. He lay still so he wouldn't wake her. Hoping he wouldn't wake her. Praying he wouldn't wake her. Because he couldn't tell her.
He couldn't tell her…
That he had to leave.
And he knew he had to leave…
Because he didn't belong.