When I wake up in the morning I feel a little confused. I've woken up in a warm bed for the past week or so. But now I'm laying here in a dumpster, with a stolen, red blanket wrapped around me.
It takes me a few minutes to remember what happened last night, and why I'm here.
Oh right. Stan. After we slept together last night, after I topped him... I fell asleep. But I woke up again about an hour later. I don't know why but... Withdrawal became especially bad and I just couldn't take it. I just couldn't. Stan wasn't awake so he couldn't stop me either.
I remembered that last syringe I had hidden in my backpack just in case. I never had the intention to quit for real. I only tried to so that Stan would be satisfied, and because I was curious of how long I could last. 7 days is how long that I lasted.
I scrambled to my feet and went to the bathroom. I looked through my backpack to find that one syringe that I had completely hidden from Stan. I doubted if I should do it for a second, but in the end I still injected it in my arm.
It was the most amazing feeling. After longing for it for 7 days, after craving it with my entire being, I finally could have it.
I just laid on the floor for a while, feeling extremely happy and mellow. Until I came to think about Stan. Oh fuck. He'd be pissed in the morning. I really didn't wanna see the disappointment in his eyes... I wouldn't be able to stand that. So I came up with an idea that seemed pretty great at the time.
I picked myself up and took a long warm shower. I then put my clothes back on. The ones that had been discarded on the floor earlier that night. I also grabbed Stan's wallet off the table in the living room and took 20 dollars. I then went to the kitchen. I grabbed quite a lot of food items from the fridge and shoved them down into the backpack. After that I went over to Stan, still sleeping soundly on his bed. I just looked at him for a moment. He looked so peaceful while asleep. But in the morning he'd have a different look on his face... And it wouldn't be a happy one.
I put my hand on his cheek carefully and I caressed it.
"I'm sorry... I wasn't strong enough." I whispered to the sleeping form. I then leaned down and pressed my lips to his warm forehead. I pecked it carefully before I pulled back. I couldn't look at him anymore. It hurt.
I turned around, and I started to walk towards the door. On my way out I grabbed the blanket from his couch and I took it with me.
"Farewell." I said quietly as I closed the door behind me and then I was gone. I think I was crying at the time. I don't know why. Maybe because I really care about Stan and I didn't wanna hurt him. But I had to go. I couldn't stay. There was no way. I'm not strong enough. I'm not willing enough. So I can't quit heroin. That's how it is.
I'm a weak coward. So I stole his shit and bailed when it started getting tough. In the end I never did anything good for Stan. I just messed with him. I just played with his feeling, and used him for sex and comfort. I don't deny that. But I never really meant to. It just happened, cause I'm selfish and stupid. I don't think he could ever forgive me for this.
What happened last night was a mistake. All of it. Stan has probably woken up now, and he has noticed that I'm gone, and that there's still a syringe laying in the bathroom. I hate myself, cause I know that I've hurt him so much. And I think he'll continue to hurt for a long time.
I sit up and rub my tired eyes. I should get going. I need more heroin soon... And I need to get out of here... Wouldn't wanna bump into anyone I know again...
I decide that I should go back to North Park. It's not too far, and I know a guy there who sells heroin for a fairly reasonable price. I shove the blanket down into my backpack, before throwing it over my shoulder and starting to walk.
At least I learned something from this experience, even if it was at Stan's expense... You can't quit because someone else wants you to. You have to quit cause you want to do it yourself. Otherwise you'll probably just halfass it and fuck up. Like I did. I know that Stan just wanted to help, that he wanted to save me. But can you really be saved, when you don't want to be saved?
I fall back into my old habits. Drugs and prostitution. Same old, same old. Years pass by quickly. For a while I forget all about my encounter with Stan Marsh when we were 21. If you'd ask me at age 25, who Stan Marsh was, I wouldn't really know. It's like he just vanished from my memory for a while, like I blocked him out maybe.
But when I'm about to turn 31 I start to remember. I remember Stan, after 10 years. How I used to care so much for him. And suddenly I want to go back. Suddenly I want to be 21 again and I want to suffer from withdrawal. I want to be with that person and have something that's like a home. A place to go.
That's when I make a decision. I think I'm ready to be saved now. I think I've done enough of this. I'm sick of it. I go back to South Park.
Stan doesn't live where he used to live. I knocked on the door but someone else opened. Some old man I've never seen before. Turns out he'd been living there for the past 5 years. This night can't possibly get much worse, can it?
I don't have any heroin now. I'm already starting to suffer from withdrawal again. Why did I show up? It's not like Stan would want to see me again, even if he would've still lived there. Not after what happened 10 years ago... I still don't think that he can ever forgive me for that.
It's raining tonight... It's freaky, how similar everything looks to last time... I end up sitting at the same spot. The goth kids old hangout. I'm drenched and it's cold. Oh, how I miss Stan. For a second I think I see him. A tall, black haired guy with a red umbrella walks past. I say hi.
"Kenny?" The boy asks in a strange voice that can't be Stan's. When I look closely at the boys face I realize that the guy is a Canadian.
"Ike?" The boy nods.
"What are you doing here?" Ike asks me. He looks pretty surprised.
"I wanted to visit Stan..." I tell him.
"You sure that's a good idea?" He asks me carefully. "Kyle said you messed him up pretty bad last time..."
"I know I did..." I answer, sounding sad. "I want to try and make it up to him... But I don't know how..."
"I see..."
"Uhm... Do you know where he lives now?" I ask.
"Yeah... Just over there." Ike points to one of the houses further down the streets.
"Thanks." I say and stand up. Ike shakes his head.
"I don't think you should go there quite yet though." Ike tells me. "I'll call Kyle and tell him that you're here... He'll inform Stan... I think he's the only one who could talk to Stan about this. If Stan shows up here, he wants to see you. If not then you should stay away."
"You're right. Thanks a lot Ike..."
"No problem really..." He says with a smile. I smile back. We say our goodbyes and he walks off while calling Kyle...
I wait. For 15 minutes. Before I stand up and start to walk. I'm in front of the school building now... But just then... I see the door to Stan's apartment opening. He still looks the same, but the umbrella is old and very worn out now...
For a second I think that Stan is gonna turn left and come to meet me. But no. He doesn't even look in this direction. He takes a right turn and he walks along the streets. Further and further away from me. I stare at him in disbelief.
It hurts. He really doesn't want to see me... Tears form in my eyes and I start to cry.
I wonder... Do I love him? Did I love him? A long time ago I told him I did... All along I thought I just got caught up in the moment and just wanted to have sex but... Maybe that wasn't it? Maybe I did love him. He meant something to me. He still does. That's why I showed up.
The rain stops falling now. I walk for a little bit, and I stand in front of Stan's front door.
I look through my old backpack that's now almost falling apart, and I find what I'm looking for. Pen and paper. I sloppily write a small note and I place it on the door.
I'm sorry. That's all that I wrote. Afterwards I decide to hide behind a bush and just wait... I'm still crying and even the note got stained with tears, but I don't care.
If he doesn't want to see me... Then at least I can tell him that I'm sorry like this... It's better than nothing. I'm waiting here, only because I want to see him read it. After that I'll leave. And after that I won't come back ever again. I won't continue to haunt Stan Marsh's life. I promise.
A few minutes pass, and then he's there. Stan is standing right outside the door, and he stares at the note for a moment. And then he smiles. He smiles at it, before he looks through his pockets, and he fishes out a pen of his own. He writes something down on the note. After that he walks inside and closes the door behind him.
I stand up and walk towards the door. Why would he write something back? Why would he bother? If he doesn't wanna see me...
I look at the note, at what he wrote.
Very well... One more time. Just don't mess up again.
I just stare at it. No. Stan, you can't be serious. Even more tears spill out of my eyes, and I sob in a desperate manner. Another chance. He gave me another chance.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
The door creeks open. Stan knew. He knew I was here... The man in front of me smiles at me gently. I smile back, through the tears. This time I can do it. I won't hurt him like that anymore. I won't.
"I... I think that I really do love you, Stanley." I say honestly, before I continue to sob loudly. Suddenly arms wrap around me in a warm embrace, and I cling to him desperately. Thank you.
The End