on complications

I am just a worthless liar. I am just an imbecile. I will only complicate you. Trust in me and fall as well...- Tool (Sober)
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It's like this cruel thing you do to yourself. You know it's going to hurt- you know you don't want to hear it, you know you just want to walk away and go to bed and maybe it won't seem so awful in the sunny daylight, from the warmth of my own bed. But that's not now, and now I have a slight buzz, it's pitch black, and i'm irritable. I have tried so hard for you- what else can I do? Who else can I be? There is nothing I can do, is there? I'm at a loss.

Just tell me what you want me to do-

I can't tell you what to do.

You have to. I'm telling you to- because I can't just stay like this.

I can't do this-

can't do us?

Yeah.

At first I cannot cry. I'm willing myself to- just do it- get it over with, the tears are inevitable. It's this shock. You won't look at me and it breaks my heart. I think that maybe if you do- maybe if you see the pain in my eyes, you would change your mind, you wouldn't be so willing to walk away from me, from us. I place my hand gently on your arm, your head is in your lap-

look at me-

He looks up, and his eyes are bloodshot and I can't tell if it's because I think he's about to cry or because inevitably he was smoking before I found him tonight. Still, no tears come. My voice is hardly a whisper-

can I have a hug?

And as we awkwardly sit there on the steps of the basement of this hotel that is being renovated, I start to cry. The tears at first silently roll down my cheeks, dropping onto his neck as I clutch him like there is no tomorrow. I start to pull away- I start to sob, and he holds onto me, not letting me go. This is my final straw- I can't do this. I can't be strong, I can't be there for you, I can't be happy, I can't be anything but heart broken right now. I finally wrench free, turning away from him, sobbing into my arms, as I try to gather myself.

Composure, I think. Just be composed. Don't let him see how much this hurts you.

I tell him I'll be right back- and I walk down the hall to where I know a bathroom is. Earlier that evening I stood in front of the large mirror, meticulously fixing my hair, making sure I looked nice when I saw him. Now my eyes are bloodshot as a I stare at my unhappy reflection, and I try to take a moment to breathe. Why do I always have mascara on when I cry? I grab some paper towels to try and clean my face off. It doesn't help much. It's still obvious that I'm upset. I take a deep breath, and I go back out to find him.

I can be the bigger person.

I walk up to him, he is still sitting on the second to last stair that leads to a fire exit, and I stop just right in front of him. He looks up at me, and I grab his arm, pulling him up into a hug again. I'm not ready to let go just yet. We hug like there's no tomorrow, and my tears start to come again. God it sucks to have a fucking cold and be crying, my nose is runny and I feel disgusting. I wipe my face and pull back, just looking at him. He leans against the wall.

Don't be a stranger okay?

My voice sounds foreign to my ears, strained and cracking- trying to hold it's composure.

Of course.

I reach out and touch his face, smiling faintly. I run my hand along his jawline, as he stares at me, looking so forlorn. I want to memorize his every feature-

I'll be really hurt if we don't stay friends.

Keep me up to date too-

You know I will.

We grab eachother again, hugging as if we're a couple about to be separated for months, who's hearts are breaking. I know mine is- but I can't understand him. We pull away again, and he looks at me, kissing my forehead. I step back, placing my hand on my hip, trying to laugh the situation off.

Jesus, the guy I'm in love with breaks up with me, and I'm trying to pretend life is great? Fuck.

What do you want me to do?

He looks at me, questioning me.

I'm not ready to let go yet-

And he grabs me into another hug, before the words are even entirely out of my mouth.

You're going to have to walk away from me, because I can't walk away from you.

It seems like he doesn't want to hear this, and yet it is the truth to me. I can't walk away from him. It's just the cold hard truth in my mind at that moment. I step back again, glancing at the stairs where his blue cap with the big orange H sits. I sit next to it, picking it up to play with it.

What's the H for?

Houston.

Oh, right. The 'Stro's.

A faint smile plays on my lips, as he too sort of smiles. They're both sad, but we're trying.

Well, I'm going to go.

I nod, begrudgingly handing him his hat. He looks at me one last time, and walks away.

I break into sobs again, as I sit on the stairs, alone.

I never thought it would end quite like this.