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I'm freezing. I always am. I'm standing at the window, watching the raindrops running down the glass, making the view blurry. Like tears distort your view. The rain is my tears. I stopped crying a long time ago.
I want to turn the heater on but I don't dare. You never freeze, you don't like hot rooms. I know you will shout at me if you come here and sweat. But at least that's some kind of feeling you will show towards me, anger. That one feeling that seems to dominate you when you're with me.
What the hell happened to us? Why did it turn into something like this? Why am I allowing all this? Because I love you.
Love. The few friends I haven't scared away yet call it obsession but I know it's love.
I remember the times when you said you love me. Times when we were a normal couple. We hung out with your friends, went everywhere together, you even moved in with me. You said you love me and that I'm your everything. And I used to answer that without you I'm nothing. I didn't know back then that I was so right!
I was so proud of you when your career started to take off. Success was what you've always been dreaming of and now your dreams came true. You had to work so much more, spent almost all of your time in the studio or on the road but that was ok with me. I know music is your first love, I'm number two anyway.
But then your time with me got less and less. Sometimes you just didn't show up. And after a while you even hardly called. You said there are so many things going on in your life now, it's so very hard to find time for me. I told you that I understand and that it's ok but I lied. I just didn't want to make you feel bad.
Then you left without a word.
I felt like dying, I cried my eyes out. My friends told me to forget you but I couldn't think of anything else. They said you'd never come back, you're living a new life now, with new friends and new women. I told them to fuck off.
Even after all the gossip in the media about you and all the other girls I knew you would come back. And I was right.
That one night you knocked on my door. There you were, leaning against the frame, wearing sunglasses and holding a cigarette in your hand. You smiled.
"Hey. Long time no see." Your voice was rough and darker than it used to be.
The second I lay my eyes on you, all you did to me was forgiven. I invited you in, I cooked you dinner. You told me about your new and exciting life. Your eyes were sparkling every time you mentioned the band and again I knew that I would never be your number one ever.
But you said you missed me and that I'm your everything. Besides your music, I thought, but better being number two than number three or four or five. I asked you about the other girls.
"Just some girls that crossed my way, you're the only one that means something to me," you said and kissed me. "Do you believe in destiny? You and me together, that's just the way it's meant to be."
I felt like the luckiest person in the world.
You were gone the next morning, again without a word. You didn't call. A week later I saw pictures in the newspapers of you and your girlfriend at an award show.
I felt like falling into a deep black hole. Again my friends told me to forget you and again I told them to fuck off. I told myself that you were doing all these things just for the media, that you wanted to keep your real private life a secret, your life with me.
And you came back. You never called but as soon as you were in town you came to my place. Mostly just once a week but still. I was so happy. I didn't care that you always wanted to stay at my apartment, that we never went somewhere else or saw someone else. I had you. That's all I wanted.
It was always the same. You came along, I cooked you dinner, we ended up in bed. But you never stayed for breakfast.
It took me a while to realize how much you had changed. What had happened to the funny and caring person you used to be?
All you were caring about was yourself. The only opinion that counted was yours. The only things we did were the things you wanted.
And then you started to hit me. You had become more aggressive anyway, I tried to blame it on the drugs you're taking. Deep inside I knew that this was you.
But I stayed. I loved you. Without you I was nothing.
You knew you had power over me and you started to find it funny to humiliate me. To tell me that I'm nothing, that I'm worthless, that the only thing that makes my life worth living was you. These words hurt more than your fists when you beat me. But the worst thing was, you were right.
Most of my friends had turned away from me by that time and the few who had stayed kept telling me to leave you. That you were destroying my life. And they were right.
You made me feel sick every time you left. I could hardly eat and if, I usually threw up afterwards. I started to loose weight, I looked only like a shadow of myself. I stopped caring about myself. Only when I knew you were in town I put on make up to make myself look pretty for you. I was freezing almost all the time, I felt numb when I wasn't with you.
But being with you also didn't make me feel better.
I took me a long time to realize that but now I've made a decision. I need to know.
I see you coming down the street, your head bowed down to escape the rain, your hands deep inside the pockets of your coat. You're quite slim, you don't look too good either.
I know your fans worry about you having too much stress. Little do they know! Sex and drugs and rock 'n roll, your health is just the price you pay for your lifestyle.
You knock. I open up. You don't say a word, just walk over to the table and sit down.
We start eating without talking. You stuff the food into your mouth, without recognizing the taste or the fact that I've been working in the kitchen for hours just to cook your favorite meal. I hardly eat.
You swallow the last bite and gulp down your beer. Then you lean back and look at me.
"It was too salty," you say with a dry voice. "Why didn't you eat?"
"I'm not hungry," I mumble and stare at my plate.
"You should eat more!"
I look up. Do you really care about how much I eat?
"I mean, look at you! You're just bones and skin! That's gross! I wonder how I can still fuck you, you look like shit! Hundreds of beautiful girls are just waiting for me to take them home! You should be lucky, I'm still sticking with you!"
No, you don't give a shit about me. How can I still love you if you say things like this?
"Stop staring at your food and get me another beer!"
I get up automatically, I stop thinking when I'm around you, I just work.
I pass you the beer bottle and stay behind you. I start massaging your shoulders. You're enjoying this, I sure know the right spots to make you relax.
"Next time you warm up your fingers before touching me," you mumble but you're liking this too much to make it sound mean.
Now or never. I need to know.
"Do you love me?" I whisper.
I feel your body turning stiff. You stare at the opposite wall. "What?"
"Do you love me?" My voice becomes a bit louder.
You turn your head towards me and stare into my eyes.
"What the fuck is going on in your sick brain?" you ask with a cold voice.
"You know I love you, I just wanted to know," I mumble and continue rubbing his neck.
You shove my hands off your body and get up.
"I knew I shouldn't have come here in the first place, I should have picked up that hooker down the street! I bet she's not gonna bore me with that cheesy talk about love and shit!" You look at me with disgust. "And I'm sure she's got at least some nice tits!" you add sarcastically.
I whisper your name but you just laugh and slam the door.
I feel like everything around me turns black, I have to grab the table to keep standing.
Has this been the answer I was looking for?
For the first time in ages I'm not freezing, only my fingers are still icy. I'm surrounded by girls, squeezed in front of the stage. You and you're band are performing since half an hour. The crowd is going crazy, they are celebrating you. If I didn't know you I'd probably do the same.
Last night has opened my eyes. I'm feeling numb since then but I've made my decision.
I'm watching you. You look so beautiful in this colored light. The way you sing the lyrics makes me think that you are really meaning what you sing. You look so sensitive, so vulnerable, so not like you.
Another song starts, a faster one. And there you are again, the kind of arrogant and cocky person, that want's to be admired and celebrated. You sing to the girls in the first row, make them feel they are the only girls in the world. Some of them wear your clothes and make up and I suddenly get an idea why you like to hook up with these fans. Cause they look like you. Maybe that's some sick form of having sex with yourself. Cause you are the only person you really care about.
And again your face is surrounded by that green light of the spot lights. You look so beautiful. I love you.
I try to push myself forward into the front row.
Suddenly I realize the lyrics.
"Like a bullet you can hurt me,
take me, break me
Like fire you can burn me
convert me, like a bullet you can hurt me."
When I first heard this song I thought you had written it for me and maybe you did. But I bet now you don't even realize what you're singing.
I reach the front row. You're still concentrating on some of your lookalikes. I'm staring at you, trying to make eye contact.
"I can't believe it when my friends say
Take it easy, take it easy, don't you worry about the rainy day
Like fire you can burn me
convert me, like a bullet you can hurt me."
Now you're standing in front of me, you're eyes closed.
My precious, my everything, without you I'm nothing.
My hand slips into my pocket and grabs the cold metal.
I love you, why are you doing this to me? There is only one thing left to do. We can't live on like this! And if I can't have you, nobody else can!
"Like a bullet you can hurt me ."
Your eyes have found mine, your beautiful green eyes.
"Please hurt me."