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Source:https://lilliandcosta.wordpress.com/2012/07/15/when-it-rain-it-pours-in-goa/

Fiction

I miss you

The raindrops fall through the leaves and land on my back. I can’t feel the cold, even though I know I must be freezing. All I can feel is the rain, but I can’t bring myself to care.

I can’t feel the cold…all I feel is the rain.

I know I’ve said this to you before, but now I really mean it. All I’ve ever wanted was you. I’ve wanted you happy. I’ve wanted to show you how much you mean to me. I’ve wanted you to know how happy you made me, even being happy was the last thing I could be.

I remember every moment we spent together. From the beginning until the last time I saw you.

From when I’d wait up for you to message me and tell me you were safe, just so I could sleep because I couldn’t sleep without knowing you were safe.

To the times when you made me smile and laugh, when all I wanted to do was die, so I could forget all of the pain.

To the time you kissed me in the hallway in front of all your friends…who thought you were straight. The looks on their faces were priceless. And you kissed me there because I had just walked by, avoiding their gazes because your friends had always scared me.

I remember when you kissed me to get the tears to stop because I couldn’t handle the emotions alone anymore and the therapy wasn’t helping.

I recall the time you noticed the bite marks on my arms and how sad they made you. You hugged me tight and cried into my hair and apologized when it wasn’t you who’d done anything wrong…

I remember when you came to visit that night where I was wide awake and staring at the ceiling with the AC on in the middle of winter. You laid beside me and kept me warm and helped me fall asleep and told me the next morning that if I ever needed someone to help me feel warm to just call you. I knew you were sincere but I never took you up on your offer because I didn’t want to make you feel responsible for helping me with my problems.

I remember the first time you said “I love you” to me. I can’t think of anything that had ever made me happier than in that moment. Nothing compares to the feeling of hope I felt. Of course, I burst into tears and had barely been able to choke the words back out to you.

I remember you finding me in the rain a week later clawing at my face because of the feelings I’d been trying so hard to stop came back again. I remember how your very presence took the edge off and helped me return to who I was.

You helped me begin to learn to love myself. I’ll forever be grateful for that.

I remember the night you came home (you’d invited me to stay over for spring break) and found me asleep. The next morning you said you were so happy that I’d finally felt safe enough to fall asleep without knowing for a fact you were safe and that you’d always come home. You didn’t know that I’d had another episode and had fallen asleep out of a desperate attempt to not lose all the progress I’d made.

I remember last weekend when you didn’t come home.

It’s been a week now.

Where are you?

I feel like I’m slowly dying again and I know your friends don’t know how to help me. You were the only one who knew how to help. I can’t seem to get a full breath in my lungs, I’m so worried about where you are and if you’re safe. We’ve gone looking for you at least eighteen times, and still, you’re not here.

They found your body this morning. They don’t know what happened. I don’t want to know. I don’t think I could handle finding out…

I haven’t left our — no, not ours anymore. It was yours before but I guess it’s mine now — my room since I received the news. I keep sleeping the days away, hoping I’ll wake up and all of this will be just a bad, bad dream and I won’t have relapsed and your alive and here.

The funeral was yesterday. I didn’t go. I couldn’t face your family and I know they would’ve resented my presence there because they surely think it’s my fault you’re dead, even though I did nothing to them. They hate me and wouldn’t let me see you one last time.

I’m here now, though. Huddled next to your grave, with the rain falling down on us and the water landing on my back and seeping through my shirt, chilling me to the bone.

You’re gone. You are gone. You’re dead. Gone forever. This thought dances circles around and around my brain, tripping over itself and tumbling around like a bunch of puppies. The tears haven’t stopped since the rain started and I’m so cold now.

I can’t help but wonder who’s going to make me smile again when that’s the last thing I want to do. Who’s going to turn the lights off so I can sleep?

I remember one time, in the middle of our relationship where I’d been head over heels in love with you already, I just hadn’t told you yet, and I don’t think you knew it. But you’d had a long night of studying for an exam and we were just sitting in a local park underneath a big oak tree and talking about random things.

I noticed some storm clouds on the horizon and I’d heard a faint clap of thunder. I turned to face you and asked that if the rain came if you’d stay with me while it rained. But you’d fallen asleep and instead of waking you just to ask the question again, I turned to face the storm and said that even if the rain didn’t come, I’d stay with you forever.

And here I am. By your side as the world begins to spin and my stomach is queasy and I feel like throwing up. It’s cold — so very, very cold. I’m colder than ever and you’re so far from me now and I don’t think I’ll ever feel warm again. But I said I’d stay by your side forever and here I am.

I miss you.

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Written By

Brandon is a gay man from Cincinnati, OH who currently attends Ohio Wesleyan University. He loves fiction writing and sad stories way more than he probably should!

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