Chapter 5
So...it's almost 4 in the morning here...and I'm going home for spring break tomorrow (thank goodness!) but I just got inspired to write some more. So here's chapter 5. I hope you enjoy it! And to everyone who reviewed, thanks sooooooooo very much. I appreciate so much that you take time to read my story and comment on it. I don't even know if thanks is a good enough word to use, but, until they come up with a more suitable word...just...thank you! Now, on with the story!
Precious Little Meltdown
About a month later
Roger's P.O.V.
I don't know what to think. Sometimes I think he's getting worse, sometimes he seems so happy that I have to doubt that he's depressed. The bad days are far more often than the good though. I know what he's feeling by how much I hold him in a day. On his better days, he usually leaves the loft to film, after giving me my good morning kiss and my reminder to "take my AZT and eat something". He's gone for several hours, and when he comes back, he shows me what he filmed and it's just so...nice. I love sitting with Mark for hours, watching what he filmed that day, cuddling, kissing, just being together and being happy.
Those days come few and far between though. Usually, I end up just holding him for a few hours, and re-assuring him that I still love him and that it's okay and everything will be alright. I wish I knew that for certain though. I don't know how to fix him. I hate to see him depressed and sad. I know there's things in his past that he needs to talk about. It hurts like hell to think that maybe he can't talk to me about it, but I have to get over that.
I should try to talk to him later though. He's usually more willing to talk about some of his insecurities on his bad days. And today is a bad day if ever. When I woke up he was huddled next to me in tears. Right now, he's in my bedroom, just lying there, waiting for me to bring this damn tea that I've been fussing with for the last couple minutes. I wanted it to be perfect for him though. I just want him to be happy is all.
When I walk into the bedroom he's curled up into a ball with his face buried in my pillow. "Hey Marky, here's your tea. Come on, get up and drink it, it'll make you feel better love."
"Mmm...Roger...thanks. I love you, you know that don't you? You'll never leave me because you think I don't love you or something like that, right?"
These things always make me so sad to hear, I hate that he doesn't have the confidence in us to know that I won't leave him. "Mark, I know you love me. I'll never leave you for something as silly as thinking that you don't love me. I swear." I think that was the right thing to say. He gives me a sort of sad half-smile and starts to drink his tea. I guess now would be a good time to try to get him to talk. "Marky, love, I want to talk to you about something. Well, actually I want you to talk to me. If you can, I think it would be good for you."
" 'Bout what Rog?"
"If you can, if it's not too painful, could you tell me...well...could you tell me some of the other reasons why you cut, or why you started? Something, anything would be good babe. I just want to know, so maybe, I can try to make it better."
Marks P.O.V.
I almost snort my tea when I hear his request. I'd love to tell him, it would be nice to have someone understand, but I'm so scared of what he'll say when he hears. What if he doesn't love me anymore? What if he thinks I'm just stupid and childish for this? I look at him and study his face to make sure he really wants to know, so I know he's not just asking for the sake of asking. A good 10 minutes passes before he says anything else.
"Mark, if you don't want to tell me, it's okay. I just want you to know that I'm here. I'll listen. I promise, I'll listen and I won't say a word until you're done. Ok? Please baby, just try to trust me a little bit though. I want to help you. I want to understand. I love you more than anything and I just want to understand you. So help me, if you can."
I almost started crying while he was talking. I should tell him, he said he'd listen. He really does love me. I just don't think I can speak without him holding me. So I ask him too. And he gladly does it, so now, we're lying on his bed and I'm in his arms and I'm trying to think of a place to begin. This is gonna be so hard, but I guess I'll try to get as much of it out now as I can. Maybe it'll be easier that way. "I guess...I guess this all started when I was in 10th grade in high school. I didn't fit in. No one liked me. I was that boy who always got thrown into the lockers, who even the freshman made fun of. I got good enough grades and everything, except for in gym. Gym was torture. I was so bad at it, and the other guys made me feel like shit every class. I was the last one picked, and the team that had to have me always got to start out with an extra point or two. I hated it, it got worse and worse every day. Home wasn't much better. My dad thought I was gay, and my mother didn't try to convince him otherwise. He picked on my constantly...and made me wish I was never born. If I weren't such a coward, I would have killed myself off then, but I couldn't. I was too afraid of what would happen, I'm still too afraid. I thought college would make me feel better, make me happier...but it didn't. It was the same as high school, except, now instead of being made fun of, I was ignored and forgotten about by people who called themselves my friends. Filming made me happy...it gave me a place to run away too, a reason why I was ignored or forgotten about because I had my hands full or I was too busy for something. My parents made my life more miserable after they found out I wanted to make films for a living instead of being a doctor or whatever they wanted me to be. Boy..what a fight..what a whole shitty day it was actually."
I'm silent for a while as I think back to that day. That was probably the worst day of my whole life, which is saying a lot. I don't know if I can continue or not with this. It's so hard. It does feel kind of nice though, to be able to tell someone about it.
Rogers P.O.V.
He's told me so much, my angel, but he still hasn't told me how he started with this nasty habit of his. I have a feeling that it started on the day he fought with his parents about filming, but I'm scared to ask him about it. What if asking pushes him to far and he refuses to talk about it anymore? I don't want him to keep all of this bottled up. It's been bottled up for a long time from the sounds of it too. I'm almost positive that it's not healthy for someone to keep that much shit inside for so long. It can't be if he's cutting himself because of it.
I'm so sad for my love, but I don't want to talk until he is completely finished, so I just hold him closer to me and kiss his forehead. He's been really quiet for a while, and I'm almost positive that he's asleep...but that's when he started to speak again.
Sorry to cut it off here guys, but, I'm running out of ideas for tonight. I'm trying to figure out if I wanna have Mark just describe the fight and the aftermath to Roger or if I want to have a flashback to it as well, so that you all can see what happened. Any suggestions? As always, if you enjoyed it please let me know, and if you didn't please let me know what you didn't like! If I like your suggestions then I'll probably end up changing the chapter around. Hope you all have a great day!