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« … Why didn’t you tell me? »
« … »
« Robert? »
« What? »
« … Didn’t you hear me the first time? »
Just a sigh. That’s all he can do, for now. He does not have an answer. He wish he had one. So much.
There’s silence on the other side for few seconds, a waiting silence, expecting to be filled. He knows that but he just can’t speak. It seems as if all the words have escaped his brain, all of a sudden.
When those moments sum up to form a minute, the posh English voice is heard again.
« Honestly, after all this time, I still… sometimes you still are a mystery to me, you know? It’s like… I try and try and try to find a goddamn sense as to why you act the way you do, I tell myself, he has to have a reason why he’s doing this, because otherwise, really, I’m at completely loss, the only answers I manage to give to myself scare the shit out of me! »
He can hear his voice out of breath now, and in his mind he can easily picture him, shaking his head, his right hand tracing invisible lines on his slowly aging face, a face that has always been untouched by none of the many plagues which always used to throw parties with him instead. And he knows for sure that if he only left his eyes fall closed, the image of the other man would appear so clear and so present to him that he would try and reach for his fingers, to pull him close to him. It would hurt, oh, so bad. He just can’t afford it.
A weak grin with a touch of acid brings him back from his thoughts.
« Want to know something funny? When I first met you, I was so… damn fascinated, god knows why, that I used to think there really was a reason for everything you did, every… every single, tiny action of yours, I was one-hundred percent sure there was something beyond my possible imagination which held the key to understanding it. But the sheer truth is, you are a creature of chaos, you’re irrational from head to toes, and most of everything, you are a selfish prick. I tried and hide this from myself, believe me, Robert, I really, really tried, but it’s been six fucking years and when it comes down to the stuff that counts, you still treat me like shit, again and again and again. And then… Then you just come back and I say yes like an idiot each and every time, because I’m so damn good at making myself miserable, it’s astonishing, really… »
He can hear the other man’s tears way before they reach his voice, and a slow shiver quickly informs him of his very own fate, not a long way coming. In the silence forming again, he struggles to come across something to say, to possibly deny the heavy and painful truth that has just been pronounced. When he finds nothing, all he can do is calling his name, and the sound that comes out trembles of a fear so deep and instinctive that it could be mistaken for the wail of a dying animal.
« Jude… » he whimpers, and after that the wall finally crumbles down and words start to flow like wild birds kept in captivity for such a long, painful time. « Jude, please… Please… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, I… There were so many things to do, and I was so hurt, but I had to stay strong because that’s what’s expected from me, every time, and I had to arrange for my dad to come as well, and… » he shakes his head, closes his eyes, and swallows before continuing. « And what else I could possibly tell you? I’m fucked up. Like, big time. I can give you hundreds of reasons why, but it wouldn’t change anything in the end, would it? »
His voice gradually fades out, and in the new stillness that follows a resigned but nevertheless painful awareness finds its place inside his soul, that maybe they have finally reached the end of line, the ultimate station of their troubled relationship. Time to empty the carriage.
« You’re right, Jude. » he says then, fighting against his racing heart to keep his body together. « I’m sorry, but by this point you must have had enough of eight years of my apologies, they must sound all the same in your head. I… I’ve hurt you so many times it’s frankly amazing that this moment is coming just now. I… The decision is just yours, I… I’ll accept it, whichever it might be . I swear I won’t try to change it, or talk you out of it, I know I lost that privilege, so... » he swallows, and it’s just then that he realizes there is no one left at the other side of the receiver. He stares at the deadpan device for a couple of minutes, silent, secretly and desperately hoping that it was just a mistake, maybe the line gave in or his phone died, but deep down he just can’t ignore the simple truth of it, no matter how hard he might try.
That’s why he closes his eyes now, and lets his subconscious have what it’s been craving for the past fifteen minutes, while the darkness slowly conquers him all, feeding itself up with sweet memories of their shared past, and leaving behind a thick trail of pain with a broad sense of loss, and he founders and flounders in this deep ocean of sorrow, until there’s nothing left of him to be rescued.
Peace of mind, honey I’ll treat ya kind,
Treat you kind, sometimes
But I’m a selfish man
Put my head in my hands
My head in my hands and I’m crying for you.