She lay motionless but awake, sprawled on the bed, tangled amongst the masses of gray sheets. A few strands of light made their way from the window into the dim bedroom, casting abstract shadows along the gray carpet; she surrounded herself with gray. It was the color of her life. She didn’t want to be awake, and she could feel the nerves behind her eyes buzzing angrily; they weren’t ready to be awake either. She’d taken a handful of Vicoden the night before, hoping it would do something to the effect of numbing her mind enough to allow her to sleep. It had been a pleasure she’d been stripped of for months.

At least that was the reason she kept in the back of her mind for if and when someone inquired as to why she needed the pain killers. The real reason lay deeper.

But it had only caused her to awake nauseated. She groaned and rolled out of bed, standing slowly so as to not lose balance, something she found particularly easy to do. She heard the door at the front of the apartment open and close again, followed by the jingling of keys and the rustling of grocery bags.

“I got the groceries,” Kyle called. Kyle was her room mate. Nothing more, nothing less. He was like a brother to her. They were dating when they first bought the apartment, and got along well enough after they split that they decided to remain living together. Although sometimes she got the impression he still had feelings for her, but she never acknowledged that fact. And she never intended to.

“Did you pick up my prescription?” She mumbled as she pulled on a pair of pants that had conveniently situated itself among the sheets on her bed. She could almost feel the frown descend upon his face. He looked her straight in the eyes and said “What prescription?” She quickly evaded his gaze and looked at the floor. Her stomach churned furiously. He knew what prescription she was talking about, he just liked to hear her point out her own weaknesses and admit to having addiction problems. He didn’t trust that she really needed the pain killers.

“There were 12 Vicoden in the bottle last night. What happened to those?” he asked, failing to hide the cynicism in his tone. He was beginning to sound like a mother.

“I took them,” she said, frustrated and angry that he had checked how many pills were in the bottle. “So I could sleep.”

He heaved a defeated sigh and proceeded to unpacking the groceries and putting them away. She sat on the couch and stared at the wall. He’s only trying to help, she told herself over and over in her mind, trying not to allow herself to be angered by his seeming desire to control aspects of her life that even she could not control. She didn’t need another parental figure to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. It may not seem like something a person should be easily angered by, but when you’re that low, when you can't see beyond yourself and your shattered, fallen-apart world, it’s the little things that send you over the edge.

A cupboard door slammed and her stomach lurched. Another wave of nausea traveled through her bowels. She ran to the bathroom, flinging the toilet lid up as soon as she reached it. She stood there, staring into the water, waiting for something to happen… But the pain lingered for at least 20 to 30 minutes without ceasing before Kyle asked what she was doing. She replied with a painful groan. She could feel the sweat soaking her hair from the tension and anxiety contaminating her insides. Kyle came in with a washcloth, ran it under cold water and placed it on her forehead. He sat with her for another half hour, holding the washcloth with one hand, and her hand in the other. He even held her hair when her body finally gave up the fight and allowed her to throw up. When she was done, he told her she should take a shower, and then go back to bed.

As he left the room, she peeled away her sweat-soaked clothes like a snake would shed old skin.

***

She couldn’t help but wonder why he’d helped her. And it wasn’t just that he’d helped her; it was the care and love he put into what he was doing that bemused her. Laying awake in the bed they used to share, she stared at the ceiling. She reminisced on the special moments she’d never be able to forget; those moments they’d spent together where everything around them seemed to melt away; those moments that made her ache to hold him in her arms again, disappointed that she couldn’t make them into anything more than memories. She could see those weary eyes gazing into her own as he brushed his lips gently against her cheek, moving up, kissing her ever-so-softly from her temple down to her ever-anticipating lips; their first kiss. A moment she swore she would never share with another man for the rest of her life.

She wasn’t quite asleep when he came in. He sat next to the bed on the side she slept and ran his fingers gently up and down her arm. She didn’t move, but his caress was so light that it almost tickled. She wondered why he was doing this. She realized then that she hadn’t been touched by another human since they had broken up two years previously; her entire body tingled with excitement. She also realized then that she’d desperately missed his touch. She missed his smooth warm fingers gently caressing her cheek and telling her things would be alright; she missed the way he ran his fingers through her hair, and the way his eyes sparkled when she looked into them; she missed how it felt to fall asleep in his arms and she missed the comfort of waking in them. She missed the nights they’d stay up so late talking on the phone that they’d both fall asleep without hanging up.

“One of these days,” he said the next morning as she swallowed 4 Valliums with a swig of Sam Adams, “you’re going to overdose on that shit, and I won’t be here to save your sorry ass.” He’d donned the tone of an older brother, making her bottom lip twitch in anger. His brows were furrowed and his eyes glistened with worry and frustration, two feelings that she seemed to spread to those who remained in close proximity to her for long periods of time.

“Maybe then I’d learn my lesson.” She snapped and rolled her eyes, hoping desperately that this conversation would come to an end. She knew she was wrong to snap at him and that she should be thankful to have someone looking out for her like he did, but she’d never been capable of revealing any signs of appreciation. She feared he would misinterpret and assume she wanted him back. Not that she believed he was really that thickheaded; she knew the power love could hold over people, especially Kyle.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked when she entered the room. She ignored him. She was thinking about the other night, and how it felt when he’d touched her…

The phone rang, and she subconsciously jumped. Kyle answered before the first ring ended. She noted his eagerness. “Hello?” he said breathlessly.

“Oh hey! I didn’t expect it to be you.” He said. She tuned him out as much as she could, figuring it was just another one of his girlfriends. When he got off the phone she realized she’d chewed the skin on her fingers until they bled. She frowned. He came into the living room and sat next to her on the couch.

“That was Marion. Do you mind if she comes over tonight to watch movies with us?” he asked like an innocent toddler. Her eyes lowered to the floor, surprised by the sudden jolt of electricity that was shooting through her veins. Is this jealousy? She asked herself.

“Yeah, sure. I can go downtown and hang out with my friends so you two can have some ‘alone time’,” she said sarcastically. He looked at her from behind the few strands of hair that always seemed to fall in his face and give him that mysterious look about him that she loved so much. He felt the cold pang of her words as they sunk in, and he recognized her sarcasm. His eyes were sad, watching her curled up with her knees to her chest and her gaze plastered to the gray carpet. He felt terrible for even asking…

“You made some new friends?” he asked. She shot him a glare full of so much anger and emotion that he was taken aback.

“No, Kyle, I don’t have friends.” She said, looking away.

“I’m sorry…” he paused to sigh. “Would you like me to call Marion and tell her not to come?”

“No, you guys go ahead and do your thing. I hope you have a wonderful time.” She waited a few moments before standing up and looking him square in the eyes. “Do you still love me?” she blurted, without thinking. She kicked herself subconsciously for saying it.

His eyes widened at her forwardness, something she’d never shown before, but she couldn’t see through his usual blank expression. Her gaze dropped to the floor again, along with her hopes and her fantasies. She turned to leave.

“Wait…” he started. She froze. “I… I’ve always loved you. I’ve never been able to stop loving you. I think there are things about you that I wish I could change… and that’s why we broke up. I’ve tried to push it away so I could move on, but when I did, I felt more and more detached from myself. I felt I was losing it… That’s why Marion and I broke up… because I still love you.” His eyes sparkled with tears he desperately wished to hold back. He wanted to compensate for his weakness in not being straightforward with her the whole time by appearing to be strong. No, he didn’t just want to appear strong; he wanted to actually be strong… for her.

Her eyes filled to the brim with tears. Her knees gave out seconds after he’d finished, and she collapsed onto the floor. He went to her, lifting her up so that her back lay against his chest. He couldn’t stand to see her like this… so helpless, so defenseless.

She was utterly shocked by his answer. She couldn’t decide if that’s what she wanted to hear or if this would just complicate things more. A part of her wanted to turn and pull him into a hard passionate kiss, but something held her back. Part of her was scared to death of opening up her heart to another person and loving again.

He turned her around and lifted her chin to look into her eyes, which were wet with tears and closed in embarrassment. “Can you look at me?” he whispered.

“Why?” she whimpered.

“Because I love your eyes… and because I need to see them when I ask you this next question…” She opened them and looked up at him sadly. “Do you love me?” he asked, being sure to hold her gaze. She closed her eyes, allowing two tears to escape from her eyelids.

Do I love him? She asked herself. So many thoughts were buzzing, twisting, spiraling in her mind. You are incapable of love! You don’t love him, you just love the pain of being in love. You have nothing worth being loved. Don’t lie to yourself, of course you love him. You’re just going to hurt him again.

“Only here in his arms do I feel I am where I belong; only with him do I feel complete, at peace, and sure of myself and the future ahead.” She answered her own thoughts… not realizing she’d said it out loud.

“Who?” He asked.

She opened her eyes. “You.”