You and I went somewhere, I don't remember exactly, and we were with
Brian, my sister and her husband, and two older people. We got there
at night, and we seperated to four rooms: the older couple, my sister
and her husband, you and Brian, and me alone. I was on a white double
bed in a room with white walls and light blue carpets. A fine white
porcelin sink and a mirror were on the wall away from my bed next to
the door upstairs, which was on the left. You were in the room next to
me on a little gray cot. The walls were biege, the carpets were brown,
and there was a double bed in your room too, but I knew where you were,
and what you were doing. During the night, I woke up and noticed that
you had moved your cot into my room, and that you and Brian were asleep
on it. You were under several layers of covers, but didn't appear to be
wearing much. Later, it was morning, and the black alarm next to my bed
went off. I noticed that the time was wrong, and so I started to reset
it. Brian woke up and said something, and I told him that I had built
the clock myself. You said that you had done that before, too. Then I
turned around, and Brian had gotten up and was wearing only his underwear,
and he went and put a towel on and headed upstairs for breakfast. You
then got out of bed wearing nothing at all, and started talking to me.
You told me that he was really good last night, and that he brought
you right to the edge and held you there for an instant, and that it
felt so good. (!) You said that he broke your 'class' (?) and that it
was funny that none of 'us' had ever managed to do that.(!) Then you
told me that since he broke your 'class' (?) you had to go change the
sheets and iron them, so that's why you moved the bed. Each time you
told me something, it would sting like getting shot, but then the pain
would disappear because you were happy. Then you put your arm around
me, and drew me close, but when I moved to put my hand on your cheek,
you pushed me away in disgust, and when I went to put my hand on your
shoulder, you just laughed at me and let it slide off. (!) I went over
to the sink and blew my nose, and you sniffed a lot and then opened your
mouth to show me, and then closed it laughing. I said that it was gross,
and you said that I shouldn't say anything, because you had to put up
with a gross mouth from me for so long. (!) You then started to cry, and
said that Brian raped you just like everyone else, and I was horrified
and I tried to comfort you and let you cry on my shoulder and tell you
that everything would be OK, but you just pulled back and laughed at
me. (!) You said that I was silly, and that he wouldn't really do
that. (!) Then you stood up on my bed and jumped on it and laughed some
more. Then someone upstairs said that it was time to eat, and so I held
out my arms to catch you when you jumped off, and you held out your arms
to catch me, but when you jump, you jumped away from me so that I couldn't
reach you. You laughed some more.(!) Then we started upstairs. I smiled
because you were so happy.
It was hard for him to say this out loud. Fortunately he is alone. Of course, he knows that it really doesn't help him to say things in comfort of his own room, but he's afraid to tell anyone else. He looks around nervously, suddenly concerned that someone might have come into the room while he was talking. The room is empty. Only he is there. He breathes a sigh of relief. He wants to tell her, but he knows that she doesn't want to here it. He remembers that she used to want to hear everything he thought. After so long, it almost seems a dream, but it was not. Once upon a time he used to live in a world of love. That world came crashing down.
He remembers that she used to love him. He still thinks she does, but everyone tells him he's a fool. He doesn't care. She loves him. A tear slides coldly down his face. She loves him. No matter what everyone says. The tear reaches his chin. She loves him. She has to. The tear drops. She loves him. She told him that she would forever. The tear hits his desk. She loves him. No one else ever did. He looks down at the tear. Where did that come from?