Mourning for Tyrell Wellick

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"I can't let you die"

He is mad at me and he is hiding it so hard that it's physically painful, he said that we're going to work together without lies and manipulations and yet, here we are ... what is so fucking wrong with us? With me?

-WHAT IS SO FUCKING WRONG!! TELL ME, SAY SOMETHING ... just say something-

Sometimes we forget that being the bullet it's more painful than being the shooter and yet we can't do anything to stop the numb feeling that accompanies the denial.

He doesn't answer violence or anything and he won't.

The fire is going out.

"I'm just gonna go for a walk"

Is that? Is guilt? Is the helplessness? The Understanding that you were paralyzed when you should have acted?

He is still silent, absent ...

-I should've ... - The words are falling down like the system between us -it's weird to even when I don't really know him, he ...- my face is getting colder than before I tried to warm it with my fingers and the touch is familiar as the presence of tears...

-Shit, you, you ...- his tears, my tears? -Loved him- And it's so clear like fucking obvious shit.

-No. I didn't love him- I almost yell in disbelief but he turns right to me.

He finally faces me.

-I love him, I do, I do- then he comes back to his absent state but is it him? Or am I? Whose side of me is really absent?