Smother (Kellic)

Amends

I ran my fingers over the pages as I reread the words of each poem, trying to remember the way I felt when I read them for the very first time.

I remembered the way I felt when I saw him at first, the stranger brave enough to read a poem in front of a room full of people. A breathtaking, painful poem that changed everything. That day did change everything, and at this point I'm not sure if the change was good or bad. Oddly enough, I would give anything to go back and see him there again.

I often wonder what it would've been like if he never thanked me, if he never had dinner with us that night, and If I didn't look into those green-blue eyes of his.

I try to imagine a world without Kellin, and it seems like the coldest and darkest place.

Much like the world I'm in now. It's had to have been a month since I've spoken to Mike or Tony, and of course Kellin. It's been weeks since I've left my house.

I heard the front door open and close, and so I closed the book and left it on my nightstand as I turned out the light and turned on my side, looking at the wall numbly until Jaime walked to the door, and then I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.

After that night with the wine, we haven't ate together, and he's been working later. I don't know if we've had an actual conversation in quite awhile. We avoid each other for the most part, if we don't do that we are arguing.

Things are back to normal, the way they were before Kellin.

Only this time, it is much more painful because I had the opprotunity to know him and see the difference he made to this world.

Jaime undressed and got into the bed beside me, and we laid there beside each other but not touching.

Most of me wishes that Jaime had never saved me that day.

***

I crawled out of bed when Jaime left, shutting the door behind him and leaving me with my solitude. I got up to take my medication, only this time I realized that Jaime had left the key to the locked box on top of the box. He's letting me get my own medication now.

I grabbed the key and unlocked the box, when I opened it I saw all of the medications we owned. Everything from left over pain killers from when Jaime broke his wrist, to cough syrup.

My pill bottle was on top, and I opened it and took what I needed to.

I guess he trusts me not to kill myself anymore. That, or he doesn't care if I do anymore.

I shut the box and locked it back, leaving the key on the top without a second thought or long stare into the abyss of things I could use to kill myself.
Wouldn't that be ironic? If I killed myself the day he finally let me get my own mediaction.

I shuffled down the hall and to my desk, wondering if there's any part of me that is able to write at this moment.

The answer is no, of course.

Ever since I met Kellin, writing about love has been easy for me.
So easy that it makes me feel like shit.

My body ached, and I tried to remember the last time that I smiled even the ghost of a smile.
I don't know. I can't remember.

Over the last month I've thought a lot about love.
With Jaime is comfort, the only home I've known for years, stability.
With Jaime is everything that I need, everything except for love.

I've grown to accept and realize that I am undoubtfully in love with Kellin.

When it first hit me it was like a ton of bricks, but I can't blame myself for loving, can I?
I already gave him up, and I think I regret that more than I would've regretted losing Jaime and Mike and Tony, because I've already lost Mike and Tony.