I was about to open the door back into the bedroom. All set to get back in that bed that was calling me. My hand was on the knob. Then I heard a chirp, that isn't something you hear in the city to often. The light danced and I let the coolness slip from my hand and followed the sound. As I walked down the hall I saw all that I didn't how ever long ago before.

The room is huge, it's a loft type place, but open and sterile. There is minimal furnishings. The furniture is all high end but sparse. The kitchen is basic high end but black and white with stainless steel. The stools are chrome and leather, there are only two. The rest of the space is open and void of art or pictures. In the corner is the chirp I heard. I beautifully ornate cage hanging in the corner with a white and sky blue parakeet in it singing away. I stare at it for a moment or two chirping away in it posh home. It is relaxing watching the small movements. I pull away to check out the rest of his home. There are open windows fitting the style of the building that I could imagine a few chairs at. I could see how it would be a peaceful place to read or listen to music. But it is bare just the blinds bouncing in the wind. The only furniture in the room is a leather couch in black with no blankets, no pillows just the clean sterile lines. Then there is a glossy white coffee table. Pristine with no books or nick knacks. Only what has me boiling. I can feel my muscles tighten one by one as I go closer. I have no idea when I reached the table or how it wound up in my hands but it is there. Cold and full. The end is covered in an orange cape making it look medical and all but I am no idiot. I can put two and two together.

My rage has me seeing red even as I leave the light and thud down the dark hall. There is no fucking way after all we have gone through. Through all the work he has done. I can't even hold it back. Me the king of keeping it soft and mellow, keeping my head even in the face of all the shit. There is no stopping the rage now.

I see the fear on his face but I am so pissed I can't find the give a damn to stop. I screamed at him, I knew how big and pissed I must look but I didn't stop. I screamed, not even knowing what I was really saying and if it made sense. I saw him bolt up right. His eyes went from me to my hand I could see that much. I could see how he clutched the pillow as if it was some sort of protection. Then I heard my self.

"Do you think I have put up with this much crap for this long," my words were fading as he bolted from the bed to a door I hadn't seen before. It opened and closed and all I head was retching. Over and over. No splash sounds at all as I put my forehead to the door and listened. As I turn my back to the door and slide down it I finally hear no more but I make out heavy breathing and I think sobs. My knees come up and I put my arms to them. Leaning forward I let the needle fall and lean my head down and let my own sobs flow.