I never noticed how damn big this house is...at least it feels that way now, with the lights all off and only moonlight to see by and not a sound breaking the deafening silence of a house that used to be a home...but isn't anymore.
Because no place is home without you, Matt. Nowhere can ever be home again. Chris said he'd contact his realtor for me if I decided I wanted to move...I suppose his way of showing support, but then, you know Chris was never very good with emotional situations.
I can't bring myself to go into our bedroom yet. Our bedroom. The words ring in my head and mock me. My mind is filled with thousands of memories of you, me, us in that bedroom...and it's killing me because I wonder if you knew how fucking much you meant to me.
See, that's why I yelled at Adam that first night after we buried you. Cuz nobody knows. They think I lost a brother. Only I know I lost a brother and the only man I'll ever love in one fell swoop. How could anyone understand that??
I can't even cry anymore...the burning is there, just behind my eyes, and the clogging in my chest fills up but no tears...I've gone dry and now I'm like the cracked expanse of some stretch of sun-baked highway in Arizona.
So, since I can't go into our bedroom, I'll just curl up here on the sofa and do what I've done every night for the past week...stare at the ceiling and wish to wake up from this goddamn never-ending nightmare.
Cuz I think I've partially convinced myself that it hasta be one, ya know? It hasta be, because the love of my life wouldn't leave me...ever, not even if god himself came to drag him away. I know it, Matt, I know you wouldn't do that...so it has to be a nightmare.
I just wish I could wake up.
********************************
It's fucking 4 a.m. and I suppose if I'm ever gonna wake up, I'm gonna have to fall asleep first, right? But I can't sleep. Oh, I want to, I'm so tired I know it'll be just a few hours before I pass out from it. It's the only way I've been able to get any sleep at all, unwillingly. Because I can't go to sleep...you haven't kissed me goodnight yet.
Remember that night a month ago when you were coming home and got stuck at the airport in Dallas for 3 hours, so it was 4 am then, too, when you got home? I remember. I remember you looked so startled when you came in, trying to be all quiet, and I was sitting up in bed, trying to stay awake watching The Crow again.
You looked surprised...you're so cute when you're surprised, baby, the way your eyebrows shoot up almost off of your head and that gorgeous mouth forms this perfect little 'o'. I told you that night that I'd had to stay up...I couldn't go to sleep because you hadn't kissed me goodnight yet.
And the way your face, so pinched and tired before, melted when I said that...oh, that one look was worth staying up for, Matt. You just dropped your bags on the floor, stalked to the bed and, without breaking stride, crawled up my body and gave me that kiss...but neither of us got any sleep that night, did we?
That's a good memory.
They're not all good, though. I remember how you wanted to tell a few people about us, said you were tired of hiding, that if I loved you then I'd be tired of it too. I was so stupid, baby, so stubborn and afraid and stupid and we fought over it...we fought long and hard over it and finally you got sick of fighting, called me a selfish prick and let it drop.
But I knew it wasn't forgotten...knew it every time we'd steal a kiss in the dressing room and stupid me would snatch away from you at the slightest sound from the hall. The look in your eyes broke my heart...like you thought I was ashamed of you. But I wasn't, Matt, never. Just stupid and scared and weak.
That's a bad memory.
But, bad or good, I cherish every single memory I have of you. Except one. I'd give everything I have to be able to erase one memory from my mind forever...the one of you lying outside that damned ring.
But that one is the most vivid, it's burned into my cornea, tattooed on my psyche. I remember the smells...slightly acrid from pyro, sweat and the metallic scent of blood from my own cut upper lip, the smell of popcorn as the vendor peered over the barricade at us. The sounds...Rico yelling at me not to move you, him trying to get you to keep looking at him, to not close your eyes, the sound of the wheels of the stretched being raced down the entrance ramp, and the sound of you, your breathing at first harsh and panty, slowly tapering off, growing shallow and weak. The sights...only one sight. Your eyes. Your eyes staring up into mine, neither of us hearing Rico shouting medical shit, our eyes locked and I swear I heard your voice in my head the instant your eyes glazed over...I heard you say goodbye.
Well that's not good enough, baby, sorry. Goodbye is too goddamn final...I won't take it from you, so you just take your goddamn goodbye and shove it, ok? Cuz I don't want it. Take it back and come home so I can finally sleep...
Please? Oh god, Matt please, come home...well, lookie there, I guess I do have tears left...dammit.
This isn't funny anymore, Matt, seriously, come home...I can't do this by myself...I know it, they all know it, even you knew it. So why are you making me?
The tears are running fast now, the pain as fresh as ever, and I curl in on myself, feeling wounded inside. I almost savor that pain though, because I'm so damn scared I'm gonna go numb soon, numb and won't feel this pain that reminds me every second that you were real, you were mine, and that if this is a nightmare and only in this nightmare world were you ever mine...then I don't want to wake up.
I can feel the exhaustion, spurred by the tears, taking over and I welcome it, wrapping myself in it like a blanket on a winter night...like your arms as we curl in our bed.
And just before the darkness claims me, I see you...oh god, I see you and you're so beautiful I wonder if I'm dying too and you're my angel.
You smile and shake your head, leaning over me to gently brush your lips, strangely wispy and cool, across mine. I think I hear you whisper "Goodnight", but I'm not sure because then the second has passed and you're gone and I'm asleep.
Not passed out. Asleep. I got my kiss goodnight.
