I Can't Place It

to see you again.

Through the years we weren't healing, but leaving open wounds to be infected. I'm ill. Sick of it all.

•
//Dan

We never went to college. We found jobs though. We bought a tiny flat outside the city because we couldn't afford anywhere inside of it; though that was our dream.

We weren't making a lot of money. I was angry all of the time. I yelled at you constantly for not bringing home enough, when I was making less than you.

I treated you like shit, Phil. Why am I just now realizing it?

You never wanted to fight, but I always came home wanting to yell at you. Angie was my main fuel for all of my anger. She was always calling me poor, saying that I should get a man who could provide.

She was posioning us, Phil. We were only nineteen. We'd been together for four long years. Yet, we were slowly dying because of my best friend.

"Phil, you're such an asshole! You sit here and nag about bills all day like I never even fucking pay a cent! You're the one that's rarely ever working!"

"Are you kidding me, Dan?! I work hours overtime to just pay for dinner the next day, and still keep this shitty place! I never even see you anymore!"

"Oh, fuck you! I work everyday too! And I'm tired of it, but I'm starting to be glad I rarely see you, when everytime I do you're complaining!"

"God, Dan you're so fucking selfish! All you care about is yourself! It's always fucking been that way since we met. I bet your friends were the ones that brought upon you fighting me today, aren't they? I wanted to go college, but I turned it down for you, remember? You said you'd miss me if I left! I bet you only said that because if I was gone who would fuck you? Why have I even been with someone so self-centered for so long?"

"Whatever, Phil. You're always trying to bring my friends into things. You're not making any fucking sense. If I only cared for myself I would have left you years ago!"

"Is that right?"

I sighed, running my hands through my hair, "Whatever, Phil. Whatever, whatever. You're giving me a headache."

Most nights were like this. For another year almost every night was like this.

"I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean it, alright? I love you."

You shake your head, "Stop lying to me, Dan."

"Come on, let's make up like we always do. I'm not in the mood to fight with you anymore."

But something about this night was particularly diffrent. The outcome.

I kissed you gently, but you didn't kiss back, and I tried tracing kisses down your neck, but you pushed me away.

"No, Dan. No more. I don't want to do this anymore."

I sigh frustratedly, "Phil, just love me tonight, and we'll be better in the morning. It's how it's always worked."

"No, Dan. It's never fucking worked. Look where we are! Just no."

I start pulling at your shirt giving you innocent eyes, "Don't act like you don't want to. Please, Phil."

"NO, DAN! NOT ALL PROBLEMS CAN BE SOLVED WITH SEX!" You say angrily, suddenly yelling at me.

And I'm shocked at you, but you don't seem to care as you sigh, and meet my eyes shaking your head.

"I don't want to be with you anymore, Dan. You're too conceited. Your head is so far up your own ass you've become intolerable. It took me so long to realize this. I'm so exhausted. All we do is fight anymore, and do what you want. I want a life, and a relationship, Dan. I want love, not to make love. I'm sorry to leave you like this, but I can't take you. I'll be gone tomorrow," you say solemnly in a quieter tone.

You know what had to be the saddest part about this night? It wasn't the yelling, or the fact that you were right, or even my ignorance.

It's the fact that you said, "I'll be gone tommorow." And I was so fucking sure you wouldn't be I snorted and said, "Sure you will. Can't way to see you come crawling back."

But I was wrong again, Phil. Because you were gone.

I was alone.