Simons pov
I stare at the cup of now cold tea, a mindless tv show playing in the background.
Just some attempt at drowning out the emptiness.
I close my eyes.
It never works.
I open them.
Here I am; once again left to think.
No distractions.
No friends.
No lover.
Just me.
A shaky hand reaches out for a cigarette, the other for a lighter.
"Cant hurt" I mumble bitterly.
I light it and bring it to my lips, taking a deep drag.
It burns.
"And theres nobody to care if it does.."
Im stuck, all alone in a house that is far too big for one person.
Im alone.
Thats what happens when you get greedy. I guess.
Focusing too much on fame and money; never enough on what matters in the end.
Not on what saves you from this.
When you are too cowardly. Always fearing for some stupid repuation; not for happiness, of others and your own.
My head feels like its spinning.
I curse at myself; rethinking every foolish decision I have ever made.
Dumb decisions leading to losses.
Thinking of people I miss.
People who dont miss me.
And who can blame them.
I stand up, my body feeling old.
I am old.
68.
With nobody to celebrate with.
Nobody to be with.
Nobody to talk to.
I walk to the balcony, flicking the half finished cigarette over the edge.
An empty laugh rings out; maybe that should be me, maybe I should just flick myself over the edge.
I stare blankly; not focusing on anything.
I hear a knock; startling me.
Who could possibly be knocking at my door.
I make my way down the stairs, quick as I can. Which really could be quicker.
I open the door, ready to tell whoever it may be to scram.
I dont.
Instead I stand completely still. Unable to process what im seeing.
He clears his throat and smiles.
"Hello Simon, Im taking you out for dinner and you cant say no"
I stare at him, is he serious? Is this some sick joke?
We have barely talked for months, if not a year.
I halfly am not even aware what date it is.
"I dont think-" my voice is awfully hoarse, as im not used to talking to anybody really. He cuts me off.
"What did I say dear, you cant say no. So unless you want to go looking like you havent looked yourself in the mirror for months I suggest you let me in and get yourself fixed up."
He looks at me, still with that bloody smile and a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.
I stare at him. Still unsure.
"Why"
He rolls his eyes "Have you got dementia? Its your birthday"
Hes just feeling bad, hes just taking you out because he pities you.
"And I miss you"
And I look at him, really look at him. Hes dressed casually, still good enough for a dinner. But judging by the bags under his eyes, small cuts on his jaw from shaving and his hair combed back but still a mess; it becomes clear to me how disheveled he looks. How last minute this seems to be.
Hes not okay
And neither am I
But, maybe we can be.
"..Okay"
That hopeful glimmer in his eyes returns along with the brightest smile.
And as I lead him in, despite the mess of my entire living state; I dont feel so alone.
Because he is here.
Ofcourse he is, he always is.
Im not alone.
I have him.
(uhhhh i just kinda based this off of alec benjamins song "settle down" (which yall should listen to if you havent), yknow the whole "And no one is there who will care / When He's 71 / If only someone / Filled the spaces / He might Settle down" so yeah,, i hope this isnt the worst return after not posting for a whole month holy crap anjdjiojiokdi)
