Love Hurts
If I talked to you would you talk back me? Or would you screw up your face and simply walk away. How many times have I tried but choked coming within a few feet of you? It doesn't matter that you don't notice me; only occasionally catching my eye as my attempts to engage you fail time and time again; but of course you never wonder who I am either, or recall my face from yet another failed attempt. I once considered writing you a letter or two but then recoiled at the thought as I persuaded myself that a letter these days would probably get me arrested as a stalker. Maybe a gift would be better than a letter then; a gift would show admiration after all yet I imagine that you'd simply be content for a while guessing which friend of yours had kindly made the gesture as you'd done previously before. No, that wouldn't do either. What if I maybe wrote you a song and played it for you at some place that you'd have no choice but to listen; like a club or one of your hang outs like the Coffee Cove or the Marina Bar maybe. Then again I guess you'd probably not be listening to the music anyway being such a socialite and such and if you did happen to listen to the words and watched me sing those words for you you'd have no reason to believe I was singing them for you and probably laugh at the rough looking fellow in the corner strumming on his guitar. Maybe the words would take you back to a summer romance or into the arms of a lover who once shared your bed with, that wouldn't do at all, besides, you've walked past me on the street before whilst I played my songs for you on your journey to work but not once did you stop to stare. I never could play that well anyway. Who'd ever have imagined that one man filled so full of compassion for one woman and whose passion constantly erodes away at his heart until it all spills out onto paper cannot bring himself to say I love you so dearly'? The irony of it all frustrates me so. Weeks pass by so quickly in your presence and all the time I spend with you brings me more and more in love with you. The flowers that I bought for you are littered about my flat now, in vases and pots and whatever else I could find to hold them in. They wither as the days pass by and the chocolates keep melting but I have to apologise as I couldn't help to eat quite a few of them. I wish you'd have got at least one bunch of them but of course that's out of the question. Today as you sat at the Marina I watched as you took your make up from your bag, the one with the little dog sown into the side, and took out your little mirror and began to apply your eye shadow. I do like the green on you don't get me wrong, but I definitely prefer the blue but green will do all the same; you look beautiful in both after all. I remember thinking your hair still looked nice that colour, even though you'd made such a fuss about the stylist dying it a rather darker brown than you'd hoped. You seemed quite content with it now as you brushed it three times on your left and two times on your right as you always did. I didn't notice right away but the dress that you were wearing was rather dressy compared to what you'd normally be wearing to the Marina on a regular Monday afternoon and come to think of it you weren't normally on your own. Maybe I should sit next to you at the bar, maybe say hello and start a conversation with you; this could be my chance. I simply know I'd be lost for words if I had to stare at your face and say something intuitive and charming. What if I made a fool of myself? That would never do, my heart surely could not take the strain of rejection, I'd have to close my eyes and imagine a smile forming on your face like the one I often love to gaze upon. When I first felt that feeling of electricity across my back streaking along my spine from the ends of my fingers to the very tips of my toes I knew I was in the presence of an angel. I'd almost choke as the sides of your mouth gently began to rise letting your glistening smile creep through in the corners eventually leading to a small crescent moon of ivory perfection upon your face. The sheer happiness I see in your eyes when you laugh is the happiness I long to give to you if only you'd let me. I noticed you constantly staring into your small diamond encrusted watch; the birthday gift that you'd so wrongly assumed had been placed in your apartment as a mistakenly nameless present from a friend or family member but at least it was on your wrist I so I suppose that will do. Looking at your watch now to remind yourself of the time I also had the concept that time was constantly running out, as was my time to take this opportunity to talk to you so I stood up and walked towards where you were sat. The bar was pretty full I thought so maybe if I sat next to you it wouldn't seem that out of the ordinary. I quickly sat down and breathed out a huge release of nervous relief. Our backs were almost touching and occasionally I felt your arm touch mine; the same electricity I'd felt before once again shuddered through my body each time your arm brushed against me. I turned slightly so that I could see the side of your face; I was so close I could see the dimples forming on your face as you looked down at your phone and I noticed an uneasy look of your face; almost as if you were disappointed about something. I immediately panicked thinking you were annoyed at me for sitting so close to you and my nervousness returned so I hastily turned back around. Suddenly I had a moment of courageousness or maybe madness as I found myself quickly turning to speak to you and get it over and don't with but as I did so the bar tender leant across and asked me what I would like to drink. In annoyance I quickly brushed him off and I turned to say nothing thanks and then looked back to you but as I did you jumped down from the stool and ran into the arms of a man who I certainly did not recognise. Were you actually dating this creep? I mean look at him in his leather jacket and his longish blonde hair and stupid red jumper. Why would you pick this stranger over me!? The electricity that once filled me with joy turned my whole body into a rage; the pleasurable stimulation now turning into sharp stabbing pains in my chest and throughout my whole body. So that day in the Marina I pushed my stool away sharply sending it crashing to the floor and rushed past you and your boyfriend; no doubt you wandered who that strange person was who ran out of the Marina that day; no doubt you actually didn't care at all. That was then and this is now mind, all is forgiven and I realise I acted irrationally; for all I know that could have been just a childhood friend or a work colleague; nothing special about that is there. I was sorry to hear about his recent death though and my deepest sympathies to you and his parents. Timothy Valentine, aged 21, Doctor is killed in tragic mugging last night; or at least that's what I think the papers said. The police are saying it was a mugging and that there was no apparent motif; just a plain mugging. I just think; how can they possibly think it was simply a mugging when nothing was taken from him; there was still money in his wallet for Christ's sake but I guess that's just the police for you isn't it. I saw you crying at the funeral; in fact most people were crying but then again it was a funeral wasn't it. You looked beautiful even dressed in black from head to toe; your hair up in bun and a black hat sat perched upon your head and I couldn't help but stare into those tear filled eyes of yours; I longed to comfort you. I also remember thinking that anybody who owns a suit could just walk into a funeral, a wedding, or any formal gathering of people and not be asked any questions; nobody seemed to care who you were but simply assumed you were an associate, family, long lost friend or whatever. I know I certainly wouldn't want strangers hanging around when they put me in the ground; the thought chills me to the bone but what are you going to do; you're dead. After the funeral I over heard you explaining how you didn't feel like going to the wake and that you'd probably just head home and go to bed which I agreed with; I didn't know anybody here anyway. I admired your brave face however; the one you always had even in the event of a crisis; constantly smiling at people and always a careful listener. What were you talking about with Timothy's parents I wander; ok so I was wrong to be mad that day in the Marina, how was I supposed to know he was simply your gay school friend from out of town; he could have been anybody but then again couldn't we all. You and everyone else were too busy to notice me climb into the back of your car; I closed the door gently as to not make too much noise; that would never do after all. I'd always thought your car complimented your personality but only in ways I found hard to describe. It just seemed right when you were driving it and you looked so stunning in your sunglasses and singing away to your favourite music. I always enjoyed our trips together; riding with you made me feel alive. Sometimes I'd pull myself up just a little to sniff your hair as it hung down over the seat; it occasionally had a scent of something tropical which always made me take a long deep breath; that was the smell I liked the best. People's consideration for security these days was appalling to say the least; Imagine if some murderer or thug came along to steal the car or maybe even rob the flat or worse; it bears not to be thought about. As you got into the car I took my usual spot and carefully lifted your yellow jacket to my nose; the smell was so pure and natural; your own; always I thought how angels ought to smell. I remember when I took your scarf from the car one winter night. I felt bad because I watched you look all over for it and I had it all along, but at least I got it back to you; yet you'd swore blind that you'd searched the car a thousand times; and indeed, you had. The car pulled to a gentle halt outside of your flat and you switched off the engine. I wandered what you were doing because you sat there for a few minutes and did not move; I wandered if you'd seen me and my heart began to beat quickly. My hand moved for my screwdriver but you calmly reached into the back and grabbed your jacket I'd placed back onto the seat. I breathed a sigh of relief; I didn't want to hurt you after all; that most certainly would never do. I felt stupid for considering it at all; I felt bad so I slowly took the screwdriver from my jacket and cut myself just above my wrist as I watched you walk up to the flat; the pain helped with my disappointment. I thought it best to make sure you got to bed safely; you can't be too careful these days after all. I didn't want to get blood on your seats so I got out sooner than I normally would; once again quietly closing the door. Crouching in the juniper bush I noticed your watch fall from your wrist as you fumbled with your bag which landed in the flower pot that sat next to your door step. I assumed you'd not noticed it because of the plants which cushioned its fall; not once had you watered those plants either and look at the kindness they show to your watch now. How were you to know? I couldn't take the chance of it raining in the night and ruining the watch so I decided maybe I should make sure it got back to you safely. I waited until you were inside and listened for the locks; first the top and then the bottom. I quickly crept up to the flower pot and picked up your watch then turned and began to walk when I wandered to myself; you'd be asleep in a matter of minutes so why not return the watch now? I looked around before peering into the small room at the end of the apartment; it was dark as usual. I'd not seen it used much since your boyfriend up and left you. You'd been so upset; telling all your friends how you thought nothing was wrong in your relationship and how it was horrible that you'd just disappeared without a word or any of your belongings. It's funny that, but I guess people disappear all the time though; that's life as they say; whatever will be will be. Sure enough the window came open with a little bit of pressure from my screwdriver as it always did. I quickly and quietly climbed inside and closed the window trying to keep the blood from my arm from staining your carpet. Opening the door a jar I watched as you searched frantically through your bag on the kitchen table. Where the hell is it I heard you murmur frustrated to say the least, yet no call for such blasphemy; especially from an angel such as your self. Your watch of course; you'd noticed and now you were panicking. It was obvious you'd thought the watch was a present from him yet he told you over and over again that it was not; you always thought he was being sweet. Not so sweet now is he. I knew you wouldn't rest until you had found it and sure enough you slipped on your jacket and shoes and went to look in the car. I walked into the kitchen and placed the watch on the side so you'd definitely see it; at least then you'd be able to sleep whether you knew it was from me or not. You raced back inside and must have seen the watch straight away as I heard you mention that you must be going mad but thanking God all the same. Now little cherub isn't that better? I waited in your room mate's bedroom that was empty as it usually was on a Sunday night. I knew that you wish she'd stay here a lot more as you often got lonely without her in the house but never mind; you've always got me to watch over you I thought smiling to myself in the dark. I think you'd heard me at times when I was accidentally too eager and made a door creak or I'd banged into something as you'd called out his name as if hoping he had returned but pray, you never came to check; you'd just sit and listen. I heard you walk down the hall and enter your room; the door never properly shut behind you and I waited a few minutes before standing by your door. I heard as the taps came on and off again and peered through the small gap in the door. You were undressing so I looked away as usual as it's not appropriate to watch a woman without her knowing at such times. I stood back as you came close to the door to turn off the light and came forward again as you got into bed. It was the same old thing night after night; every time you'd climb into bed and sob a little before falling to sleep often with a small note in your hands. I'd never once bothered to read what was on the bit of paper but I thought I knew what it was anyway and cared not for such wasted affection. It only took a few minutes before you fell into a deep sleep from which you'd never stirred; even at the loudest of noises which I guessed which was due to one or more of the pills you took before you went to sleep each night; this boded well for me. Slowly edging my way into the room I felt the air was cold yet again so I turned the radiator on once again to keep you warm. I did not know why you never turned it on but I always turn it off before I leave to respect your wishes. Usually I'd stand around and watch you sleeping for an hour or two, the silly faces you pulled in your sleep always made me smile, but today had been a busy day so maybe I'd just lay with you for a while; I hope you don't mind. Before laying down I silently ran my screwdriver across my arm once again just below the gauge on my left upper arm; it was excruciating. Such pain in your presence surely shows how much I love you? My heart fluttered rapidly as the cut began to bleed so I softly slid onto the bed next to you and closed my eyes. I moved my hand and found yours cold to the touch; the heater had probably not warmed up yet; in fact the whole room felt unusually cold tonight and it made me shiver slightly. You moved your fingers to entwine with mine as if I was a lover you'd shared your bed with for so long you were comfortable with even in sleep. I used my other hand to move the hair from your face and stroked your forehead gently. You looked so solemn laid there peacefully in slumber far away and dreaming of something more pleasant than the turbulent lives we have to lead. I wanted to watch you all night but I felt so cold so I thought I'd better leave; you looked warm enough under your thick blankets. With one last wish goodnight I knew it was time to leave; I knew deep down that I'd never feel the softness of your hair again or feel the warmth of your skin against mine. As I left you there sleeping that night I can honestly say I have never loved some one so much as I did you but I'm sorry for the way we had to meet. Nobody wants to wake up to a dead stranger by their side laid upon blood soaked bed sheets; no; that will never do.