A painter's game - Tom Kaulitz

Lovers from the past

***

He was sly, like a fox.

He had eyes in the back of his neck, or maybe he just had eyes all over me. He was able to control and plan what was going to happen to me. What had actually happened? What was supposed to happen? I didn't know, only he knew.

It was cruel, but so comforting in different ways, the control I was after, he held all along.

Nothing felt real, my whole existence, everything I've ever felt was for the reason for his existence.

I remembered everything, had he? If he did, what did he feel? What did he think? What was it that went so terribly wrong.

The dreams that I had, of the faceless man. Chasing me through the Forrest, only to found out he wasn't there. But feeling him stalk and watch over me as I worried he would catch me one day. Wishing I was someone else.

I felt everything yet nothing at the same time.

I've always created these detailed fictional worlds inside my head because this one was never enough for me, no, I needed these thoughts to wander inside my head, or else i would think of other things, that I wanted to forget.

Like the hands and crispy whispers touching my throat. I needed control, away from the feelings.

I was supposed to die, die before him. But the ghost that haunts me won't let me, I should've been gone, these thoughts should've been away long ago, but why? What's the reason he keeps me alive? Because when he leaves, I am supposed to die, so he has to be here, he just has to!

For him, I hold my breath.

My suffering didn't make me anything, I suffered and then I made myself gentle and kind, I made myself strong, and I made myself good.

I'll love you, him. Like a dog, and he'll betray me like a man.

I killed a part of me, to keep you alive. Yet you killed yourself to keep me alive, and I'm afraid. Because I know that he was so important, no one would ever sacrifice themselves like that for me again. Ever.

I feel guilty, for even thinking about you, why can't I forget.

But I'll wait, wait until I get to see you again, or even hear your voice.

I also know that we are alike, I didn't realise it. But I do now. I know I have to be careful because there is something self destructive within me. It's always been there, but now it's at its worst.

I never really had you. The time we had was so liminal, barley existing. But you understood me so well, we were heavenly, too good to be true. The cracks that we had consumed us. The cracks that could've been fixed, but it was too late, for they had already consumed us.

***

With a sharp breath, I open my so blurry eyes. I shake my head, trying to wake up in desperation. I see something, im not to sure what. It seemed like a place I've been before, the room was familiar, the smell, the air, familiar.

I saw this figure before me, blurry but there. It was shining, like an Angel.

"Angel?" I whispered softly. Desperate to touch this figure, because I wanted proof that it's real, or that I'm real.

My arms heavy with the sense of being watched. He was shining, so beautiful, it wasn't fair.

"I'm no Angel." The voice said, it was familiar, yet I couldn't think. I didn't know why, but I couldn't think?

I couldn't imagine anything, or anyone, only hear my thoughts.

I remembered taking a breath, being able to sightly talk. "You're shining." I breathed, trying to look. "How could you treat yourself like that" I continued, while swallowing harshly, getting my senses back.

The figure sat in front of me, he didn't seem calm. Yet he sat there, breathing while his chest moved up and down. His breathing helped me focus.

I tried to move, I couldn't, I didn't feel anything, nothing at all.

"Are you.." I whispered. "Real?" I felt like I wanted to stand up, grab this Angel and run away.

He moved the slightest, I could tell of the light moving, he was still shining so brightly.

I wanted to move forward, I wanted to so badly.

"My attachment to you is consuming me." He said, ever so gently. "I don't know how much longer I can take it, thats real." He said, reassuring me.

I chuckled, feeling so fake. Trying to see anything at all.

"Am I dreaming?" I scoffed to myself, I was afraid. Really afraid. It was my weakness.

I wanted it to be real, but something felt so wrong.

I lost you, but I also lost myself. I didn't know where to find.

I could never forget.

How he hurt me, because, I would always, and will always forgive him. No matter what. And I hate myself so much for it.

He was what was wrong with me, but how could I say that? How? I am what to blame? I needed to be quiet.

In the end, everything I am, is because of him. Every thought, action, and the way I speak is him. His tricks, faces will forever be in my veins.

What would I be without him?

Whatever he went through, I do too.

But they'll also fuck you up, they always do.

I kept breathing heavily. Humming a bit to myself. Nothing was worse than not feeling real.

I looked over to the figure, who seemed to come closer. Making me feel warm and safe, this nostalgic feeling consumed me, it knew exactly what it was doing.

"I'm scared." I whined to myself, I looked at him. What was going on?

I started to get a few memories back, like how I had been on my way to the train.

But where was I now? What had happened?

He walked closer.

I felt the préséance of nostalgia hit me. As his scent came back.

I looked up, while gritting my teeth.

I felt everything at once.

I now knew why he was an Angel to me, why he was shimmering so beautifully.

I moved my arms out for him, my eyes growing weaker. Wanting to melt.

Feeling my face again, I hadn't felt it like this.

I felt the warmth of his hand against my chin. His soft presence like a god.

I sat up with a deep sharp cry for a breath. "Tom."

***