Drowning In Your Love

Crazy In Love

Love

He didn't think the word was enough to describe the feelings he had for his boy. Love fell short, inadequate to capture all that he felt for Tine, his Tine. People loved but he breathed Tine, he lived Tine. He didn't even remember what his life was before he met the boy. Was he even living then? Probably not. He felt dead inside, going through days on autopilot with nothing intriguing enough to excite him. From the moment he saw Tine, he had come alive. He had new purpose, something to live for. How could he ever describe such immense feeling in mere words? He scoffed at the stupidity of confining his sentiments with triviality. These people won't get how important Tine was to him. How his entire existence revolved around Tine. His Tine. Always his. God had created them for each other. They were soulmates if you were into such stuff. Destiny. Fate.

Obsession

A disgusting word for such pure feeling. He wasn't obsessed with Tine. No, not at all. How could such crude description ever justify his love? People would never understand. They are limited by their own shackles. He doesn't plan to stay within his, he was going to break them. He giggled at the picture of Tine he had snapped outside his apartment. He had lots of them. It wouldn't be overstatement to say that almost every wall of his room were covered with Tine's pictures. Even that didn't seem like enough. He wished he could stare at his boy all day long, every second could be captured by him, each giggle and laugh could be his to hear. Maybe not yet but soon enough. He'll make sure of that.

Delusion

Not what people think he has. He's not delusional, not in the least. He knows Tine likes him, loves him. He can feel it in his bones. It's all fault of that scumbag, Sarawat. If not for him, Tine would be his. In his house, in his arm, making love in every corner. He shuddered at the mental image of all things they could do together. All the things that Tine was doing with Sarawat apparently. It made his blood boil, whenever that jerk touched what was his, what has always been his. Sarawat was sullying his pure little Tine. People like Sarawat should only dream about someone like Tine, he didn't deserve Tine, not in million years. Only someone like him could appreciate a beauty like Tine. Only he could love him in the right way, the way he deserved. He was sure that Tine would realize that soon enough. Tine would see sense in his ideas and ways.

Voiceless

Gulf gritted his jaw. He's still unable to form words, unable to release them from where they're trapped deep inside his throat, piling up on top of one another. Mew can see the frustration building up in his boyfriend. He can see it in the rigid tension of his body, and in the way his shoulders are creeping higher and higher. They're so high now that they're almost grazing his ears. It's okay, my love, he aches to say. It's okay, my darling. My baby. My brightest star.

"Please, don't get upset with yourself," Mew settled on instead, his voice gentle and warm. "You don't have to say anything for me to understand you. You don't have to speak to be heard. Not by me. You're okay here, Gulf. I promise you.

You're always okay with me and with the others. Don't try to force anything. It's alright if you can't find your voice. It's alright if your words are getting stuck. I can still hear you. Loud and clear, my love. I can still hear every single thing you're trying to say to me, Gulf."

"Mew." Gulf whispered, his voice a little scratchy. It's the first thing he's said after the incident.

Mew had to force himself not to overreact, he felt like bouncing with happiness. Instead, he nodded in agreement and said, as normally as he could manage, "Yes, I'm here for you."

"It's.....I-I-I am sorry."

"Babe, don't apologize. Please don't do that."

Gulf felt tears prick his eyes, he tried to stop them from flowing, all he had done these past days was cry. He wanted to stop. He had cried enough, now was time to take action. He had debated a lot with himself, how should he approach this matter, whether his silence would be better or should he warn his friends and boyfriend. He was scared and at this point he was tired of being scared. How long should he cower in fear? How many more people would terrify him? Until when could he pull away from everyone?

It reminded him of the time when he attempted suicide. He had felt so lost and hopeless. He remembered what Tine had said to him. He had survived all that to be here. He wasn't going to let a worthless psycho ruin it all. Never. All four of them had seen the worst that world had to offer and they had come out of it with broken pieces. Yet they had picked up those pieces and had stuck them together. They weren't complete, they weren't perfect, they still felt the phantom of past lurking in the shadow (Reference to Taylor Swift song, 'Ours') but they were trying and they'll keep trying.

Whoever this piece of trash was they would fight him like they had done with everyone else. Wallowing in self pity, questioning everything, wondering why only they had to suffer like this, why were they always struggling, wouldn't solve a thing. No one would answer their cries. Maybe God hated them if there was one. Maybe they should let him know they could take care of themselves, whatever he threw at them they would come on top of it. Gulf looked at his boyfriend, all he could see was love and affection. He deserved this. He deserved this love. No one could tell him otherwise.