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I loved him.
I loved everything about him. I loved his stupid clothes and his stupid sunglasses, that wouldn't work on anyone but him. I loved the way his lips puckered up when he was angry or sad. The way his eyes shown every time he looked at me.
I loved him.
But then came the drugs.
And then came her.
And then he changed. His clothes became messy and worn. His sunglasses cracked. And his beautiful lips stayed like that. And his eyes lost their shine.
And suddenly he wasn't so beautiful.
But I loved him.
And I always will.
--
She was talking. She did that a lot. I wish she did it less. But Josh is always with her and if she's talking and I can hear it then I am with Josh.
I wish that happened more.
So much beauty lost and he still looks so amazing. He leaned in toward us and sat like it was he we were listening to. And that we must follow and do what he tells us we must. And I would. But he didn't say a word.
She was arguing. Something about money.
Mike was yelling. He did that a lot lately. I wish he did it less.
Josh laughed. I don't know at what. But it was beautiful. As was he.
It happened so fast. A glance. A nod. And her hand was in his coat. His beautiful, uncleaned coat. And a gun was in her hand. And a gun was pointed at me. And a brief case was in his hand. And Josh gave a nod of his head to us. And they were gone.
And he was still so beautiful.
--
Matt said we needed to find them. He drove. I rode next to him. I wanted to find him, too. I was mad at him. We all were. I was the most. But I wasn't mad at him for the money. I was mad at him for leaving me and leaving us.
But I would get over it.
I always do.
We found them. I don't know how. I saw her running away, but Matt didn't care about her. He jumped out of our car and pulled Josh out of his.
I helped Matt. I was mad.
We beat him against a fence. He wouldn't let go of his briefcase.
Then she appeared. She still had his gun.
He leaned against her. I was mad at him. I wished he leaning on me.
But I beat him up.
I had the chance to get him back into my arms. I could have pulled Matt away. I could have kissed the blood from his lips. We could have taken his car and left Matt and left her and left the money.
But I beat him up.
I was mad at him.
--
The next time we saw him he was laying on the desert floor, soaked in his own blood. He was dead. Or maybe he was dying. I didn't check. I wanted to. But I couldn't.
Maybe it was the stares of my friends who never knew the truth of our relationship.
Or maybe it was the shock.
I loved him but I let this happen. I could have prevented this. But I loved him. And I didn't want to pull him back. Because then he would run away again. And he would run to her and he would stay with her and I'd never have him back.
But if I waited for him he would come back.
If he had the choice.