MR. BAD GUY (ENGLISH VERSION)

LOVE SCARS YOU FROM THE START

For weal or woe, in sickness and in health.Till death us do part. Isn't it like that?

It always was like that. They've been in sickness all their marriage life. The question of the sickness was far exceeded.

Tarek had found himself forced to accept the rules of the game as he had done ever since he met Enzo. His great love for him was far above everything else. Therefore, he tried to face the test he proposed like an heroic act of supreme love. If he wanted to speed up his deterioration process, who was he to stop that?

The first few days he chose the farthest corners at home to cry alone. He took advantage of it while Enzo dozed. Lately he had plenty of periods with little naps or drowsed and he barely left his bedroom.

That house was not the same since he didn't walk around it. Each one of the nice rooms turned into simple grey and silenced spaces. It doesn't matter all the beauty unleashed in each Marygold Alley's corner, without Enzo all around, it missed all its character. He gave the definitive ingredient of beauty to a room, a situation, a conversation.

- Oh, I'm sorry. I came to...

Duncan stood staring at the doorway not daring to walk into so far. He saw Tarek kneeling with his forehead over an armchair, his shoulders shuddering with his sobbings.

Tarek found himself in Duncan's room fullfilling Enzo's task to build him up the white Canadian maple wood shelves. And he felt that familiar distress going up his throat and that beautiful room was so good as anywhere else to give vent to his pain he must refrain to not disturb Enzo.

- I just came to see how it was going with the shelves... excuse me -he apologized softly ready to leave.

- Don't you go -Tarek stood up wiping off his tears in a flash.

- I'm sorry. I think everybody in this house finds his moment to cry at one corner sooner or later.

- Sometimes I wake up with my mind so positive -he wiped off his dripping nose with the back of his hand. Duncan offered him a handkerchief-. Today I've slept so well, only I woke up twice. I've had a cup of tea and went downstairs to work. But I couldn't pass by without enter to see Enzo. I've walked nearer to the bed on tiptoe and he slept peacefully like a baby. And I needed to bring my hand nearer to his lips to feel his breath. My heart was racing and I thought distressed if he was dead, if he had died all alone... -he brought a hand to his mouth while his tears filled his eyes again.

Duncan pulled him into a big hug against his chest and Tarek snuggled his forehead on his shoulder, not refraining his sobbings. The difference of height looked more visible still with Tarek's obvious fragility.

- And when I felt that breath war... warming up my hand -he mumbled trying to express-, I felt myself grateful and at the same time I felt guilty, distressed, I felt real fear of my reactions. Because it's not healthy, right? It's not healthy thinking each minute in his death's day.

Tarek pulled out of his hold and sniffed loudly his nose. Duncan had no words of comfort for him, he was still trying to come to terms with it the best he could. He was his great friend, the person with whom he had confessed a million times and who knew a lot of his deepest secrets. They had been together so long like an old couple and they had lived through different situations. Some of them really bizarre and outrageous, but nothing could prepare him to support and understand his friend's decision.

- They use to say that no matter how many people are around us in our death bed, one dies alone. We got no book to manage it. That's the truth. We just have to be sure Enzo is being loved and cared. That's all we must care about.

- It's really hard for me having that intelligent reading about it like yours. Maybe grasping tighter to him it might be not a good idea. I don't know...