Naked Wearing Shadows.

This wasn’t love anymore. What this was, was need. I didn’t apologise to Katya because it was best for me. I did it because her eyes summoned. In the cold of misery, I needed her warmth. Your morning coffee is the cigarette after sex is the prayer before you sleep. When does a routine become an addiction? When does love become a routine? When you spend your whole life being told to react a specific way to each situation, what do you do when your instincts pull you in the opposite direction?

Awaking in bed next to a sleeping girl, my eyes scrolled over her. Though my gaze fixed on the same specimen as it had always been, something had changed. Watching her, no fond smile formed. I felt no heavenly warmth, nor the uncontrollable urge to gently brush the hair that covered her eyes. What I felt was completely numb, yet despite this torpor, I knew there wasn’t anywhere else I’d rather awake.

What I’d last night thought was love, just didn’t feel like it anymore. Without her eyes to conjure up emotion in me, I saw with more clarity than I could earlier. Though, this clarity only extended to the love aspect. Still, as my gaze rested over her, I felt something beneath the numbness. She looked so warm and comfortable where she was; I felt a kind of pride that I could provide that sense of well-being for someone. This pride instilled a want in me to continue protecting the girl. But this wasn’t love, I was assured. I would harbour the same feelings if I’d found a bird with a broken wing in Damo’s yard and had nursed it to health.

For a moment, the pride I felt outweighed the guilt that had been coursing through me all night. The kind of guilt you can only feel when you know you’ve destroyed the one that loves you.

How I knew that my feelings had changed was the way I’d fallen asleep. Usually when I shared a bed with Katya, it was her who drifted off first, in my arms as I watched engrossed. This time, after fucking, I’d simply rolled over, turned away and closed my eyes, failing to even acknowledge Katya when she said Goodnight. With the morning light creeping into her room, that memory occupied my mind and refused to be dismissed.

And still I watched her, though not in the same manner as usual. This time more out of curiosity, as if her visage might somehow help to clarify my feelings rather than further complicate them. I didn’t know how to react when her eyes began opening. Half of me wanted to look away and avoid her, whilst the other half watched on fascinated, curious as to whether viewing her wake would affect me in the same way it used to. The latter half won as Katya’s eyes warily fluttered open. Instantly our pupils met and her enervated expression slowly formed into a grin. Warm with recognition, I could straight away tell she felt differently than I. Her eyes wouldn’t deny it. Seeing her emotions unfold before me, I felt terrible. Just as I’d figured earlier that her continuing presence in my life could only be a bad thing, now the roles were reversed. If she loved me and I only reciprocated with words but not with feeling, then I was leading her on and eventually the fall would be hers. Hen you open yourself up to happiness, future misery becomes an inevitability.

“Morning.” Katya greeted affably. I nodded without saying anything, a million thoughts running through my head yet none staying long enough to be realised. What I wanted was everything. I wanted the strength to end the relationship and to kick myself of the habit. To escape the routine. Also, I wanted the warmth I’d felt with Katya at the beginning. The magic of those early feelings was what made the lack of them now so hard to bare. What else I wanted was for Katya to stop feeling for me so it would be easier to break up. The mess of emotion within me was piling up, absorbing all positives in my life and confusing them. What I felt wasn’t unhappiness, it just wasn’t happiness.

A moment of clarity decided that if I was going to even begin to sort this mess out, last night would need to be discussed. What Katya said to me was still playing on my mind. Worst of all, I knew if this thing was going to be sorted, it would require me opening up to Katya and being honest about my feelings. Otherwise, any solution we came to would only be temporary. Problems involving two must always be solved by both. That’s why it’s better to be alone, I figure.

“We should talk about things.” I started vaguely, wishing I hadn’t, yet now committed to whatever words would follow. Katya didn’t say anything, just looked resigned, as if she already knew. “I mean, about last night. I figure we should probably try to work stuff out.” I didn’t know where to begin or exactly how I wanted this to end, so I waited silently, hoping Katya would say something. After seconds that felt lime hours passed by, she finally did.

“I didn’t mean what I said last night.” Came her words, seeming honest, though I didn’t accept them.

“Yes you did.” I hastily countered. “That’s the point. We always say things and dismiss them straight away if they don’t fit into what we want our relationship to be.” Katya appeared slightly shocked by my bluntness, as was I. Still, I continued. “Can you count the amount of times we’ve said ‘I’m sorry’ to each other and then never addressed the issue that caused the problem in the first place? It’s ridiculous.” My voice must’ve risen without my noticing because Katya looked the way people look when they’re being screamed at.

“I thought that was how we addressed our problems? I’ve never made a hollow apology to you, Owen.” She sounded hurt by my words – and maybe that was what I wanted. At this point, I was just saying things to try and clarify whatever. To fix the problems I’d convinced myself I was facing whilst hiding from the real ones. What I didn’t know, was everything.

What Katya didn’t know was my mind. Every word I spoke, every gesture I made was all just an impulse. All I feel is in my head, and the only one that will ever be allowed inside that is myself. Yet still I kept speaking.

“But how can I know that? You’ve lied to me about everything!”

“About everything?” she repeated incredulously, anger seeping into her.

“About Jessie.” I said plainly, now in a state of forthright confrontation I’d never considered myself able to reach before Katya flung back suddenly, as if a volcano had erupted within her.

“Is this about Jessie?” she cried. “I’ll stop, Owen!” and by her voice I knew she was serious, though something inside me didn’t care. The same thing that wanted an argument.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Why?” I mumbled back.

“For you, you cunt!” A tear wrote a line from her eye to her chin. I just looked, out of myself, controlled by the words that usually contained themselves inside.

“Don’t do it for me.” I responded coldly. “I wouldn’t want to turn you into something you’re not.” Then I kissed her, on the cheek, like a routine I’d never noticed, before I left bed. Without looking to her again, I exited the room. Naked and proud. Like her humiliation was a trophy. And when I exited her room, I again had to hide from my insanity.

I was standing in the hallway of Damo’s house.