My Collection - 3. The last time broke my heart

"What are you doing?" I heard the fading voice while cutting the old magazines into little pieces and throwing them right out.

 

"Reading" I answered, and that was the end of the conversation. As he went back into his room I packed up all my things and I left without saying a word. This seemed to be the only good decision I could make, I couldn't bear staying another minute at that place, I craved a change more than anything else, there was nothing to comfort me in this town anymore.

I got to the point where it psychically hurt to look at lovers. I wanted to make a change before I dissapeared.

 

I remembered the empty hotelroom I left behind a long time ago with the little note with the title "The most important". It was something I never payed much attention to but remembering it now I realized that it was more than cheap cliche, it really was about me at some point in my life and it really put a and end to my childhood. "The most important: Love and understanding. The child grows up, becomes independent and we support them. They are still our children and sometimes we have to treat them that way. Bear it, because we have to bear the fact that sometimes they step over us as well. This is life and this is what we teach them. Don't forget that the one who's got love, loves you with all your flaws, and we love You. How about you?"

How about me? There is nothing about me anymore, I'm just one of those people with the long forgotten tragedies in their lives. I ran away so I could feel it better, so I could grieve, so I could breath in the polluted air of the huge metropolis around me and get sucked into the addictive, poisonous lifestyle all around.

"I would get fucked by you anytime you want me." she gasped as she kissed my neck and I pushed her right away.

 

"I will never want you. I want to fuck, and not you." But we ended up having sex on the sofa inside the cheap appartment, eying my brother's portrait while screwing his girl. She was a good artist but the worst kind of person, I sat next to her as she cleaned up her thighs and put the belt around her arm to shoot up.

 

"Why wouldn't you die for him?" I asked her while zipping my jeans up, she looked at me with glassy eyes, holding the empty needle so tight it started to crack up on the side.

 

"He never died for me. Why should I die for him?" I left the appartment and I never went back again.

I kept leaving places and people until I got tired of running away all the time. I wanted to be the person people run away from. I walked past a bar, he looked at me and I stopped. I smiled, he came up to me, there was something about the way his clothes suited him, something about His messy hair, his half smile.

"Don't put your clothes on." He said, he devoured me with his eyes. At that moment I realized; I was there to stay. His warmth kept me close, his fingers ran through my body lovingly. I was lost to him and he kept finding me, for a moment I tought I could start it over.