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Sometimes, a shower is where you curl up on the floor as you let the scorching hot water irritate your skin. Where you cry and cry until you’re too weak to cry or you have no more tears left. Until you’re so dehydrated that the world is spinning around you. Or, perhaps you’re spinning and the world is at a stand still around you. Maybe that’s it.
Tonight, Xie Lian had been the one curled up on the shower floor. He had stumbled in from a long day of ‘I’m sorry’s, ‘are you okay’s and gifted homemade casseroles. So many casseroles that he didn’t even care to play fridge tetris to try and fit all of those casseroles inside of the fridge along with his food from over a week ago that was starting to spoil. The milk went sour four days ago.
Xie Lian had tripped into the guest bedroom which was nothing but clean. Clothes littered the floor and the bed was a mess. Xie Lian weakly pulled at the tie around his neck, coaxing it to come loose so he could throw it on the floor to join the rest of his clothes. Soon his black suit jacket joined the chaos on the floor along with the white button up he was wearing and his black slacks. He stumbled into the bathroom, turning the water on in the shower to the hottest setting, not caring about what was comfortable or not. He had been uncomfortable for a while now. He lost count after two days. He stepped in the shower, the only thing left adorning his body was the crystal clear ring on a chain around his neck.
He couldn’t stay on his feet for very long before he shakily led himself to the floor. The water burned, but he quickly drowned it out. He couldn't tell if he was crying, or if it was just water running down his face. His eyes were already sore and puffy from all the crying he had done in the past almost two weeks.
It happened so fast, you’d miss it if you blinked.
They were on their way home from one of Hua Cheng’s art showcases. He was a very well known artist, surprising for someone his age. Xie Lian had attended every one since they started dating 5 years ago. He had only missed one when he had the flu and he beat himself up over it.
They were walking the same route as always, hand in hand without a care in the world. Maybe if Xie Lian had convinced Hua Cheng to say goodbye to He Xuan or if Xie Lian had gotten one more glass of wine, Hua Cheng would be okay. Instead of being on the shower floor, alone with sore red eyes, he would be in their bed, wrapped safely in his husband's arms. Wrapped in the warm scent of vanilla and maple. Maybe Hua Cheng would be the one still living if Xie Lian had been braver.
They were walking home, the same route as always hand in hand when disaster hit. Someone had drunk too much at a bar just down the street but had gotten into their car anyway. If he hadn’t gotten into that car, he wouldn’t have lost control and driven onto the sidewalk. Maybe if Xie Lian hadn’t been frozen in place, Hua Cheng wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. Maybe if Xie Lian had called an ambulance sooner, Hua Cheng wouldn’t have died on that side walk in his arms. Maybe the doctors would have been able to save him.
When he finally got home that night after hours at the police station breaking down and trying to give any information to the police officers about the accident, he walked to the bedroom he had shared with Hua Cheng. That morning, they were wrapped up in each other, sharing small good morning kisses before they had gotten ready for the showcase. Xie Lian stood there for a few seconds before he ran to the bathroom, letting loose everything he had eaten in the past 24 hours. He then closed the door to their bedroom and hasn't been in or opened the door since.
Today, they would both be on a plane to start their new lives in LA so Hua Cheng could get even more recognition for his work. But instead, Shi Qingxuan and He Xuan drove Xie Lian to his husband’s funeral. It wasn’t anything fancy, and there weren’t a lot of people. But somehow, somehow Xie Lian had managed to accumulate about 10 casseroles. 5 of them from Shi Qingxuan. He would never be able to finish 10 casseroles by himself. He never made his way to Hua Cheng’s open casket. He knew that once he saw him lying there, he wouldn’t be able to leave his side and would cause a scene. He wouldn’t admit it, but he regretted not seeing Hua Cheng one last time, even if he looked stiff and smelled of rubbing alcohol and makeup; nothing like maple and vanilla.
As Xie Lian laid on the shower floor, he swore he could feel familiar strong arms wrap around his waist and cold breath on the back of his neck in contrast to the hot water and steamy room. Xie Lian broke down again, his body curling on itself as his sobs caused his body to shake. He was trying to clutch onto the feeling and hold on tight, but he never quite grasped it. It was just far enough from his reach.
Sometimes, a shower is where you curl up on the floor as you let the scorching hot water irritate your skin. Where you cry and cry until you’re too weak to cry or you have no more tears left. Until you’re so dehydrated that the world is spinning around you. Or, perhaps you’re spinning and the world is at a stand still around you. Maybe that’s it.