No, I'm Just Delusional (Phan) RE-WRITE IN PROCESS

Good Guy, Bad Guy

Dan -

It used to be so simple. I was the bad guy, and he was the good guy. I was the bad guy the one who would be merciless to people who had never done a thing to me, he was the good guy, the good guy who got beat up everyday by that merciless bad guy. I was so used to being on top, being in charge, now I have no idea. Everything is so, so fucked up.

I sit there knowing what I am going to do. It is so selfish but right now I am beyond reckoning. I get up off my chair, walking slowly over to Phil. I know I can't leave him but I can't live without him. I can't face another day without those sapphires, another day without his broken demeanour, another day without his shy smile. Another day without him. Another day dreaming of events that will never come to pass. I have given up hope. I lost that small shred of hope when I awoke, only to find that my mind had yet again, fooled me into thinking that life was good again, that I had a purpose again.

I just can't deal with the constant reminders that he's not here. He is not looking around with his big bright eyes, observing the world and the wonders it contains. He will never see the sun rise again. Or the dark contrasting shadows that consume the sky at dusk. He will never see the leaves fall and the snow rain down on the tin roofs. He will never again observe the way the rain falls in the wind, or the way the trees shake when there's a storm coming. He will never see the stars shining so bright up in the sky or the way the moon shines on the streets at night. He will never see the clear sky and cloudy days. He will never again see the smile of his brother, who had once meant everything to Phil, no, not ever again.

Phil was brave. Alex told me, he told me that Phil did everything for him. That he was the best big brother in the whole entire world. When I asked about the man I had supposedly thought was Phil and Alex's dad he got quiet. He didn't look at me and I noticed small tears on his cheeks. I remember scooping him up into my lap, rocking him back and forth and singing him a soft melody. It was one my mother used to sing to me before I grew up. Before I was turned into this monster. It was when I was carefree. And I could tell by looking at Alex that he was not. He didn't have the innocence that all 8 year olds should have. He held a darkness inside of him I couldn't comprehend. But as much as I hurt Phil, I knew no matter what, I would look after this little boy. Phil was there for him and I took him away. I took the only light that Alex had in his life. I will never forgive myself for that but I know I have to try and make up for that. I will be there for Alex. I remember thinking, he might not need me but I need him. But I guess thats all changed now. Now I need no one.

When my feet finally manage to carry me over to Phil's bed I don't know what to do. This hole, this ever present fear of loosing Phil has become to much, I can't do it anymore. I don't want to do it anymore. I don't want to look at him any more. I don't want to see him with the same expression and in the same position as the last million times I checked. I don't want to torture myself anymore. I wan't to end it.

Over.

Done.

Fin.

But its never over. I should've known that.

Standing there shaking my head with tears once again consuming my face, I am lost. I am so, so lost. The only thing I am sure about is how I feel. I love Phillip Lester. And I can't bring him back. Flashes of the dream cut through my thoughts.

The screaming. The doctors. The cold, pale body in my arms. It was so real. His heart stopping. Then suddenly the heart monitor. Beeping. Turning only to find that he wasn't dead. He was alive. But he didn't remember. He didn't know who he was. Who I was. So I lied. And then I woke up. And then I broke.

It was so painful. Yet so real. Maybe I wasn't dreaming. I mentally slap myself. Of course I was. How many times have I had dreams like that? A couple dozen? But I can't help it, that small tiny vessel hope seems to be squeezing through a non-existent hole to my heart. For mentally I don't have a heart. It broke to many times, it shattered into to many pieces that only one person could tape back together, but they're not coming back. And they never are.

I look down at my hands and then up at Phil. "I love you Phil, so, so much. That's why I'm doing this. I can't live without you. I never could. Meet you on the other side." I say my voice sounding so delicate and soft. I place a kiss of his forehead, wiping away the stray tears that managed to fall on his cheeks.I stand up my legs wobbly and heart non-existent. I take a few steps backwards, keeping my eyes on Phil. I take one last look. His dark black hair clinging to his face with ginger roots seeping up. His face so calm and peaceful, as if he's sleeping. I guess he is, he's just never going to wake up.

I look down again, sighing. I guess this is it. "Goodbye Phil." I whisper. "I love you." My voice breaks and i put my hand in my mouth to keep from screaming or breaking down. I turn around, struggling so hard not to turn back around and curl up next to him or fall on the floor and never get up. I take a painful step and stop dead in my tracks.

"I love you to."