A painter's game - Tom Kaulitz

I will always love you

***

My foot taking a step onto the hard wood floor, making a sound when I step inside. The floors and walls left in ruins. My heart pounding in my chest when I breath in.

I look around, knowing that I've had memories I want to forget but also remember.

It was like I was stuck, not knowing when I'd be able to get loose.

I blink at the beat of my heart. Opening them again only to see the empty room get smaller. All the furniture was gone from the house, only left in my mind.

I swallow slowly, feeling the lump in my throat. I never knew when I would be able to escape, if that was even possible.

All the memories in graved into my brain like a tattoo. When I closed my eyes, that was all I saw. When I breathed in, that was all I could think of.

You can think you've run away from something, but actually, you've been carrying it with you this whole time. The thought of him stuck with me, well, forever.

The sun covering half of the room, seeing the broken glass of the window shine under the sunlight. The grass outside tall with flowers. It wasn't stuck in time but everything in my mind was. The house was still the same house, the same house were everything happened. The same place, but it was strange.

I bit my tongue as I feel my eyes water. Looking up the stairs. Tossing my jacket to the side.

I didn't feel like I had control of my life, I couldn't stop shit from happening, everything is so fragile.

I don't feel like myself in my body, it wasn't like normal.

I could still hear the music, still feel the movements and life from them. Feel their warmth against me like they were here.

I breathe heavily in a shaking tone, looking up the stairs. Feeling my legs get heavy as I make my way up the stairs. Seeing some broken staircases, glass and dirt on the floor as I walk up.

I see graffiti painted on the walls, reading the letters carefully. "Murderer." Or "kidnapper" and even "abuser". I swallow harshly as I press my fingertips against the wooden walls. Feeling the dirt grind against my skin.

He wasn't like they explained him, in fact, he was the opposite.

I felt so alone, it wasn't fair. He was supposed to be here, he promised!

I was cold, tired.

I turn around while I look around the cold hallway, only the sun shimmering through the windows. Or what was left of the windows. Broken glass shattering beneath my shoes.

I flinch at the sight of my old room, seeing it being left in ruins. Only the cupboard left. Dust and dirt covering the floors with graffiti painted on the walls. "Well deserved" I read the black text covering the once white wall.

I grit my teeth reading it, maybe stuff happened that shouldn't have happened, but I didn't deserve that. I didn't deserve to be raped, abused and left alone. He should've stayed.

I feel my cheeks getting red and my eyes water as I my body winced. The sun glimpse on something, I turn my head to look at the cupboard and see the watch.

I quickly grab it and feel the leather watch between my fingers. Touching the glass gently as I rub some dust off.

"Please come back home" my shaking voice wince of a tear drop falling down my cheek.

The watch was the only thing I had left of him, again.

This house wasn't the same, not just changes, but without him, nothing was the same. I didn't feel real anymore.

I breath in heavily, I didn't feel real. My skin, my body, my soul, was just atoms. But when I was in love, I could only feel real. I just felt so alive.

Every time I close my eyes I try to think of something else, anything else at all. But I can't. It's stuck with me. All I can see is his face.

Why didn't he just let his sorrow pour on me. I never wanted him to leave, never at all.

I just got lied to. "I'm here now, nothings gonna hurt you." But he did, he hurt me, he hurt me more than he wanted to, the punches was nothing, but his actions and words hurt and destroyed me in ways I can't explain. He promised, why did he do that.

Maybe in another dimension he never killed himself, maybe in another universe he let me love him. Maybe he would've never gave up.

There were so many places to go, but did we even have a future, could it ever even work out.

I look up from my watch, breathing heavily from the tears streaming down my face. Hoping I could've fixed him. There was so much regret.

What do I do with all this regret. What do I do.

I slowly walk out to the balcony, the chair still being left there, the metal chair that he always sat on with a cigarette between his lips.  I look at the ashtray on the small glass table, seeing an old cigarette left, picking it up with my fingers. Seeing the small lipstick mark left on it, knowing that it was the one cigarette we shared.

Our love burned like a cigarette.

It hurt seeing something of him left behind. Something so small yet so big. But the signs of him of him once alive, knowing we spent a summer beneath the trees, learning from each other and growing in love.

Knowing that we had loved each other in this house.

I would never see him again, I had now out grown him, I was 22, and he was still 21.

I wanted to die, I was going to kill myself, he saved me, still he didn't fight for himself. He died to save me, but all he did was loose me.

I knew that I would always love him. Forever.

***