Transcendental (Working Title) Completed First Draft Revising Rewriting Editing

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Driving Michael home was one of the longest, hardest moments of my life. He was dead silent, refusing to even look at me. When I pulled into the driveway and came to a stop, he didn't give me a chance to speak, he just got out of the truck, quietly closed the door and walked straight into his house without fan fair. I sat there staring at that closed front door for a while, unsure of what to do.

I don't know exactly how long I sat there staring blankly at that door, but It was long past the time to pull out of his driveway and leave, but I simply couldn't do it. I couldn't do anything but shut off my truck because I knew, somehow, it would mean the end of everything that was important to me. It would mean the end of anything having to do with Michael. My hand clutched at my chest as my heart actually gave me a pain filled squeeze at that thought. 

So I opted for the only other possible option and got out of my truck, walked up the driveway and into his house. His mom wasn't home, so I let myself in. Immediately upon entering the house, I heard Michael's heart wrenching sobs, which made my stomach clench painfully. I followed the sounds to their source, coming to an abrupt halt just outside of his open bedroom door, I could see him lying on the floor, just inside his doorway, curled up on his side, he hadn't even made it to the bed, his arms wrapped around his own shoulders as if he was trying to make a feeble attempt to comfort himself somehow.

As I looked down at him, I felt my eyes well up as my heart broke looking at him like that "Michael..." My breath hitched on his whispered name. Seeing him lying there broken and sobbing, knowing that it was my actions that caused this, made me feel small and ugly.

Slowly I lowered myself to the floor beside him and gathered him into my arms, pulling his sobbing limp form tightly to my chest, he didn't acknowledge my presence, but he didn't fight against me either. It was as if all the fight had left him and he was just, done.

"Fuck.. Michael... I'm so sorry." My heart was torn into pieces as I felt the weight of responsibility for this, crushing down on me. I knew he felt that I had used him to satisfy my own desires and had been ready to discard him.

I had taken things much to far without a care to how it might have affected him. I realized now, that when he had said 'I love you'. He had been expressing his hearts desire to me, and he had taken what we had done, into his fragile little heart and thought that we would be 'together' afterwards.

And why wouldn't he have, any reasonable person would have taken it the same way, if they were being intimate and those words were exchanged without either person stating a denial. I had been so self centered and wrapped up in what I wanted I hadn't even considered what I was doing to him emotionally. And then, I yanked the love he had so desperately wanted right back out of his hands, like a cruel joke. The thought made me shudder with nausea as I realized exactly what I had done to him.

I buried my face into his hair and squeezed him to my chest tightly. We remained like that for a few moments before he pulled back and lifted his face up to look at me, and the pain I saw on his face, almost stole my breath away. My heart twisted painfully inside my chest again. I had done this. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do this to you." I grated out, guilt making my words feel thick on my tongue. His lips trembled as he looked away from me, looking at nothing in particular, his eyes empty except for the devastation in them.

He never asked for any of this. Michael would never demand anything, he would just endure as he had always tried to do, but I knew he wouldn't survive this intact. That sweet optimistic innocence of his, it would be crushed out of existence if I left him like this. I could see it happening right in front of me and I had to stop it somehow.

I realized that it had been a long time since I had seen the carefree happy-go-lucky curly blond haired smiling boy he once was. I had to question myself, had I been solely responsible for doing that to him? Was it because he has been loving me from a distance for so long? Did that unreturned love slowly wear away on him until he couldn't really smile anymore? Was I responsible? I knew that I was, I had asked for too much and given too little in return, I had kept him physically close, but emotionally I had kept him at arm's length, never giving him what he really needed. What I had given wasn't enough to hold him together, I had to give him more.