I have to fight tears for almost the entire trip, but I don't change the music, like I want to prove something to myself. Maybe I do.
I see you from the window. I feel a bit nervous. Not because of you, though.
Breakfast passes so fast that it feels like a dream, slipping away from my fingers in the morning.
When I step in again after, what? Almost a year and half? When I step in again after so long, one of your dogs comes to greet me like I never left. Oh, sweetie. God bless dogs for being above these human things.
Your other dog barks at me and runs around to avoid any attempt of petting. Silly boy.
Your parents greet me like I've only been away for a while. Like nothing ever happened. Like they weren't the reason I promised to never come to your house ever again. Like they still care about me, like their affection didn't vanish that afternoon when you told them the truth.
Your mother asks me if I have a cold. I don't tell her that I'm keeping my voice low so I can keep my pain and anger under control.
When the door of your room closes behind my back I feel a bit less tense. We chat. We cuddle. Ever since we started hanging out again you can't keep your hands to yourself, as if you need to make up for all the time we spent apart. As if my body is water and you've been in the desert for months. I don't mind, I'm always touch starved - but why now? Where was this affection when I needed it the most?
You shower my face with kisses. I know you're not going to kiss me properly. The only time it happened... was for the sake of nostalgia, we agreed. It's better if this doesn't happen again.
A quick peck on my lips. Uh. Another one, as if a peck won't make you feel guilty. You start apologizing. Here we go. I shrug. I act unbothered. I wouldn't say this bothers me - I'm just confused. Your mouth's on mine again, but it's not a peck this time. We're kissing. We get up from your bed. Your hands are all over my body. My hands are all over your face. You pull away just to say "kiss me" and then we're on your bed again and you try to start something else but - I can't. I want to, but I can't.
You say you need to learn to control your impulses. So this is all it is? Nothing more than physical desire? It's you, after all. Under the baggy clothes, behind the now longish dark hair... but you're wrong. I haven't been myself in so long.
I shrug. I nod. I let you talk talk talk. You ask me what I'm thinking about and I shrug again. I'm thinking that nothing matters. I'm thinking that I'll be dead soon anyway. Nothing matters. If you could see that nothing matters, perhaps you'd stop consuming your brain with so many questions. Perhaps you'd stop caring so much about opinions and you'd start living your life the way you want. Isn't that what you desire?
Lunch. As we wait for our food, I look at the sun shining behind the trees. When the light hits my eyes, I think about the fact that I haven't seen them sparkle in a very long time. They took the light behind my eyes. I'm sorry, Gee.
We get ready to leave. You hug me and I look at you and I feel something I shouldn't feel. And yet, it's there. You see, your love left, but mine never did. What stayed is your soul, while mine left so many times and never came back the same. It's worn out. Maybe it's dead. Perhaps I'll never be myself again. I'm just the ghost version of who I used to be. I haven't lived in colour since May.
I don't tell you any of this. I say that the sky is pretty, because it is. And you're still pretty, too.
We go on with our day as if the morning never happened. As if it was a dream we both had, a dream showing our deepest, hidden desires, that we will never tell each other about. A dream we will pretend not to remember.
But then, in the car, as you take me to the station, you hold my hand with so much tenderness I choke on tears again. You hold my hand like you're holding my heart. I know I'm still alive only because it's beating, there, in your hand. Crush it. Crush it again, crush it once more, crush me one last time. Break every single part of me that isn't in pieces already.
I have to run for my train, even though all I want to do is wrap my arms around you and never let you go. I want to forget everything we've been through and go back to our carefree summer days filled with laughter, when you used to handle my soul like it was the most precious thing you'd ever touched. I wish I could be someone I can never be again, so you could love me again. So the old you could love the old me again.
But I run. I feel like this could be the last time I see you. And maybe it's better this way. Maybe we've haunted each other enough.

"When I am finally dead, maybe I'll come back as someone else
And after all this pain, I can love you in the end"