It was sometime in the middle of the Sommerloch; that period in the middle to end of summer when everyone is on vacation, when the news and media have nothing to report on, that things really started to pick up for us. The irony, I guess; It was that time of year when the heat is so unbearable that by early morning its already hot enough for you to be sweating when you rise from bed.
That sort of heat where you lie down and your sheets feel different; it doesn't matter that you washed them a day or two ago, they feel like plastic... and the way they stick to your back when you're trying to get out of bed, god, I hate that feeling. I hated the summer, and I hated July most of all; the heat fucking sucked.
I was a winter kind of guy; having your breath turn to fog in the cold air, having to use extra blankets, waking up to cold feet, it was all stuff that I adored. Pumpkin spice wasn't my thing, but I adored the cakes that my mother would make during Christmas Time; she'd make one with pumpkin, cranberries, and walnuts. It was one of those things I missed so much...
The only thing that made this heat bearable was Albrecht; the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months. We'd shared that first kiss in... I think towards the end of May, perhaps early June. Save for the short... respite... between when that night happened and when I tried to kill myself and he came to stop me, we'd been together for a few months now.
They were slow months; mostly at my own request. I hadn't told Albrecht about the night terrors I had, and I was trying as hard as possible to get the memories of Erik out of my head. The few times we'd shared a kiss in the past few months, my head would suddenly be filled with memories of the time Erik and I shared together. I didn't want to move things too quickly for fear of something triggering a flashback. I hadn't had one of those in a long time, but I knew as I went further and further with Albrecht, they'd show up.
Come to think of it... I suppose this is the first time I've told you folks about... the nightmares.
I didn't want to put him through that; I knew that when it came, I wouldn't be able to control myself, and we'd likely go from some sort of passionate moment to one where I was screaming with my head between my knees and he'd be absolutely freaked out, unsure of what to do. Maybe I'd even accidentally turn violent, trying to protect myself from a danger that wasn't there. My worst fears told me that something like that would give him a reason to leave me.
That he didn't want to be with someone so broken he couldn't even share a romantic moment together.
I couldn't let that happen. I wasn't going to let the nightmares and memories steal this opportunity from me.
The more time I spent with Albrecht, the better things seemed to get. This feeling began to bubble up in my stomach that this was my life, and no matter how slowly it took, I'd take it back. No matter the fact that we'd only kissed four or five times in the past two months. No matter how long it took us to get from short kisses to passionate make-out sessions. No matter how long it took to get from those to...to something more.
He was patient. Though we never talked about it, he seemed to understand that after what happened with Erik, it would take time for me to be willing to do the things we wanted to do together.
I think it was a few weeks after I tried to shoot myself that I realized there was something on earth that was worth fighting for besides my country for the first time in... in probably my whole life. It was Albrecht; it was the feeling of his slender frame in my arms, the feeling of his lips against mine, the feeling of his hands running through my hair, Or his palms against my hips. His smell, the way he walked, the way he spoke.
The way he looked at me, no matter where we were, no matter if people were around.
His smile.
He was worth fighting for. He was worth staying alive for.
The way he begged me to spend time with him every chance we got. The way he opened up completely around me; he turned from the poster-boy that I'd grown up wanting to become, to someone so different yet still just as admirable. He loved art and literature, wrote poetry, and loved listening to older music. He'd sit and read passages out of books that I'd never heard of, from authors who died a hundred years ago, for hours on end, and I'd just sit in his reclining chair in his room listening to his voice.
It was all worth staying around for. Thats not to say that I still don't feel like ending it all some nights, and its also not to say that I'm... completely happy, I guess. But I'm getting there.
It didn't seem to matter to him that I often didn't understand the point of the story; everything he read had a moral undertone or was some sort of romantic novel. I loved things like the Lord of The Rings; they were the only books I willingly read when I was a child, everything else I read was required literature as I grew up. History books about the war, diaries-turned-epics about heroes gone by, fairy tales about knights saving the princess. I liked all of that stuff, but it wasn't on the scale of what Albrecht would read to me. He'd get so engrossed in it that I'd fall asleep and he didn't even notice.
That was precisely what I had done; it was a Friday night, and the heat of the summer was unbearable. It started on Monday, with the temperature idling around 32 degrees and eventually rose to what felt like at least 40 by this afternoon. Most of the guys had been pulled out by their parents for their summer holidays, but Albrecht had stayed around. I wasn't sure why, though I figured it had to do with me; he told me this was the time he usually went on vacation, but that he just didn't want to go this year.
I sat in one of his recliners as he laid on the couch and read from his favorite books, reading different passages, poems, and chapters for hours on end. He adored, no, loved, the classics; his bookshelf was filled with authors from around Europe. His favorite author, however, was someone I was embarrassed to have never heard of; Stefan Zweig. He was slightly chuffed at that, but explained to me his importance, and how before the Nazis rose to power he was one of the most popular writers in the world. He explained what humanism was to me, and how this guy's simplicity in writing style really helped with understanding the works he made.
None of the stories he read were of gallant heroes, none of them were of soldiers saving the lives of innocents or defeating the evil enemies they faced in battle. They were poems and love stories, but also glimpses into the lives of people whom lived so long ago. To be honest, though interesting, I was more interested in Albrecht; the way he spoke so passionately about the authors, the way he recanted the passages from the book, the way he was able to rattle off facts without even having to think twice about whether or not what he was saying was true.
I liked the other Albrecht, the one who showed strength, stoicism, and grace, but I was falling in love with this one. As he continued to read from his book, I must have fallen asleep. How couldn't you with a voice as soft as his?
I must have been out for awhile, because when I woke up the sun was setting through the large windows on either side of his flat-screen television. The hum of the air conditioner was still going full-blaze, but Albrecht had gone quiet. I slowly sat up in my seat and rubbed my eyes, looking across from him. His eyes were open, so he was awake, but he was staring down into a closed book.
"Albrecht?" I questioned.
He didn't respond. I stared across at him for awhile, and could see his eyes move, but he didn't look up at me.
"Albrecht?" I beckoned a little louder.
He muttered something, but I couldn't hear what it was; his voice was too soft and too quiet. After awhile, he looked up at me and offered a smile.
"Everything alright?" I questioned.
"Of course. How was your nap?"
"It was fine." I replied, stretching in my seat. He smiled and I smiled back, and I'm relatively sure we just sat staring at each other for a few minutes before my stomach broke the silence and reminded me I hadn't ate lunch, not to mention dinner.
"I figure I should get on going now and find something to eat before the mess hall closes," I remarked as I stood up, looking for my uniform tunic.
"Isn't it closed already?"
"Uh, what time is it?"
"Around eight"
"They close at like... nine thirty during the summer, remember?"
"I... I'm not sure about that"
He gave me this strange look, one that I just... couldn't place what it meant.
"I can just get us something delivered... some real food, Chinese, Sushi, Turkish..." He remarked.
"I mean, I'd rather just go and get something from the cafeteria, its free after all..."
He rose up from his seat and looked at me. I could see his Adam's apple rise and fall is if he had just taken a large drink of water, and he rubbed the back of his neck.
"Albrecht...?"
"Is it about the money?"
Fuck...
"...what do you mean?"
He stared straight into my eyes, giving me a gaze that felt so heavy I had to look away.
"Is it about the money?" He asked again.
"I... no."
You're lying to him, Friedrich. He's been open with you, you know...
"It is, isn't it...?" he quietly asked. I didn't want to admit it, but it... it sort of was. It wasn't that I was unwilling to spend time with him, it wasn't that I couldn't afford it, though admittedly I couldn't afford to eat out nearly as much as he liked to. I didn't make a lot of money, and with most of it going back to my mother to take care of the family, I didn't have much left for myself.
He stepped closer, and though I could tell he was looking at me, I couldn't look back.
"Is there... a reason?"
There was. I never spoke to anyone about it, but... it had to do with what happened with Erik.
I... I guess I haven't been forthright with you; I haven't really... spoken about what happened with him outside of vague mentions and references to things that happened. I suppose it... its sort of important that I talk about it; its probably whats kept me from being... intimate with Albrecht, after all. It's probably why our relationship has been so dull.
I'm honestly surprised Albrecht hasn't given up on me already; after all, I'm not really giving him anything. I think from the way I've spoken about him in the past, you guys know that some shit happened with him.
He and I were more than roommates; though originally we were just friends, as we spent more and more time together I began to realize that I had feelings for him... sort of like the feelings I have for Albrecht. Not the same, and not the same attractions, but I was attracted to him none the less. It went unnoticed by him for awhile, until I apparently admitted to him during a drunken slur after winning a boxing match that I had the hots for him.
From there, things went... fast. I hadn't minded it at the time, he was the first person I'd been romantic with since I was around fifteen, but I didn't want things to move that fast. I wanted something real, not something wholly sexual in nature, but... apparently that's not what he wanted.
We had a fight one night that turned... bad... for me.
"Friedrich...?"
I looked up at him and sighed, looking around for a place to sit. I slumped back down into the recliner and ran my hands through my hair for awhile before looking back up at him.
"It's," I paused. "got to do with... um,"
I paused, finding myself unable to say his name.
"With what?" Albrecht interrogated.
I just... couldn't say it. I could feel my throat tightening as the memories of that night filled my head. I hadn't thought about that night, and what happened in so long, that everything started to flood back into my head. All those months of trying to forget what he'd done to me, rushing through the gates and breaking down all of the guards I'd worked so hard to put up.
It felt like it was all happening again; I was shaken from my slumber by Erik hovering over me, his hands holding me down by my wrists as he kissed my neck. The way he talked... and the way he snarled when I told him I just wanted to go back to sleep, that I didn't want to do anything that night. I... I still wonder if I should have just let him do that, that maybe if I had gone with him, he wouldn't have done what he did next.
"Friedrich?" Albrecht questioned, seeming agitated. I couldn't help but flinch; I didn't even raise my hand to defend myself as I backed away from him.
"I... I'm sorry, please don't..."
Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder shaking me, and a deep, agitated voice that seemed all too familiar filled the air around me.
"Friedrich!"
Out of the blue, I found myself suddenly falling to dizziness; I tried my best to prop myself up on the arm of the chair, but could feel myself falling back into it.
"Please..." I begged as my vision started to blur.
There was this... this strange smell of smoke in the room; not like marijuana, but like tobacco. It smelled like cigarettes, like the kind that... that Erik smoked. I looking around the room, and before I realized it, I found him standing in front of me.
His fist was already half-way to my face, and I didn't even have time to try and dodge out of the way. It felt like a fucking train hit my jaw...
"You son of a fucking bitch... I'll teach you not to tell me no" Erik spat.
"No, please," I cried, trying to fight him off "I'm sorry, we can do whatever you want, just please, not again"
I rose up and tried to dart out of the room, but he grabbed me, and before I knew it I was pinned up against the dresser and...
His voice filled the air, it was agitated and angry as he gripped my boxers and pulled them down.
"Come on now, you owe me. Think of all those times we went out, all those restaurants we went to that I paid for. You owe me... and its not like there's any other way for you to pay me back, unless you have all that money..."
"Please... I'll pay you back, just give me time..." I pleaded.
"No, we've taken this slow for long enough, now its time for me to get something I want. Either you pay me back now, like this, or with the money."
"Please"
"You have it?"
"You know I..."
Suddenly, my head was slammed into the wooden drawer. It hurt so fucking much...
"I thought not. Then this is it."
And then... then it started. It hurt so fucking much, and he just wouldn't stop. The way he pinned me against the dresser, the way he laughed at me when I started to cry. It felt like forever, but I knew it wasn't. It just...
I don't know.
It hurt, okay?
It wasn't the first time I was supposed to have...
He... he finished, and pulled out, and I slumped to the floor in a pool of my own tears. Everything was a blur for what felt like ages.
The next thing I could see was him pulling his pants up and moving to walk out the door, a lighter in his hand.
"Oh come on, you got off on that just as much as I did" he said, staring at me.
"You didn't even fight back, so you must have."
That sentence hurt the most... because maybe, just maybe, it was true...
Maybe it [i]was[/i] my fault.
"Friedrich, please, say something..." a soft voice pleaded. It wasn't Eriks, I knew that.
Maybe I [i]did[/i] deserve it...
I just... I wanted to feel something, alright? Was that too much to ask?
The smell of smoke subsided, and I could feel bright rays of sun on the right side of my face. It didn't hurt anymore.
I wanted to be close to someone for once. I'd lost my family and my friends, and finally there was someone who was like me, and who liked me...
"Friedrich, please..." A voice quietly said close to me. I looked up to find Albrecht sitting in front of me, his hand gripping mine. He looked terrified.
'Oh no...'
"Friedrich..." be begged, trying to get my attention.
'You fucking did it, Friedrich. You ruined this relationship too. Good job you fucking moron, if only you had actually defended yourself against him, maybe you wouldn't be such a sack of shit like you are now'
I looked him straight in the eyes, but couldn't say anything. I knew what would happen.
I knew I couldn't go back.
Nobody wants someone with as much baggage as me. Nobody wants someone whose gone through what I've gone through. Who can't offer that first time without being terrified.
I tried to say something to him. I tried to beg him to forgive me for what had happened, but I couldn't. The more I tried to say anything, the more my throat clenched up.
"Are you alright...? You were screaming..."
I just ruined everything... with someone that actually seemed to care. With someone that was willing to go as slow as I needed to, all because I couldn't fucking defend myself from someone pinning me against my own dresser and pulling my boxers off of me.
"...about Erik..."
"I'm sorry," I cried out, trying to shield my eyes from his gaze.
"Friedrich..."
"I should have defended myself... I should have fought him off..."
'Maybe if I had tried, I would have...'
"Friedrich, you don't have to justify what he did to you without your permission..."
'He doesn't want you here, just go' the voice in the back of my head demanded. All of the work I had done to try and move on... gone in an instant.
"What did I do to deserve this, god..." I muttered.
"Fried-"
'You fucking ruined it, Friedrich. You just destroyed the one good relationship you were ever going to have, just because you couldn't fucking defend yourself, and even after that, you couldn't keep the memories from fucking flashing back...'
"I...I...I," I stuttered, "I'm gonna go."
I rose up from my seat and yanked my hand away from him, heading for the door. I had it open and was half-way down the hallway before I heard his voice again.