Though to many I’m aware that I seem a free spirit, eccentric, unpredictable, only Ryan knows me well enough to have figured out that I live by a rhythm and I put all importance in having control over everything. It is from this that sometimes in the past we have argued; I felt threatened later into our joint musical careers and due to feeling an intense need to be in control of the music as we grew older, it caused a rift in the band and that is why, for years, I have worked alone. Or, I did work alone- I can’t remember the last time I sat down to write or play the piano or even dared to sing a note for fear of it not sounding like the voice I am used to. 

I am terrified, because I am not in control. I have never really been in control. Every time I seemed to be getting better I was just fooling myself when really it was just my addiction creeping into the shadows for a while, pulling me into and uneasy security, until it crept out and took its tight hold on me and decided to go back to ruining my life.

And Ryan’s life. I glance at him almost distantly, feeling my throat close up. He deserved- deserves- someone so much better than me. His entire life has been spent looking after me, walking on eggshells around me like I’m some kind of helpless case. Which- well. I suppose I now am. Inhaling and exhaling shakily, I feel my heartbeat quicken only slightly and I make a move to hide my face in Ryan’s chest but he holds me before him and I hesitantly meet his eyes. But only for a second. I know what I look like. I don’t like that he can see me like this, I’m [i]sick[/i] and [i]ugly[/i] and though I avoid my reflection these days it is all I am aware of when I gaze into his- gorgeous eyes. Honey-gold. They are the last thing I want to see before I die, I decide, not that I had ever considered anything else.

He pulls me in and I choke back the feeling of being close to tears against his shirt, wrapping my arms desperately around his waist, clinging to him like he is my lifeline. My heart only beats for you, I think, and he is breathtaking enough then to stop me from being all somber and depressing as I am all the time now. Instead I grin, stay stood there swaying slightly as he shrugs of his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. He always did this, even when I didn’t visibly show signs of being cold or ask for his coat. He just knows. I remember what I look like and drop my eyes to my feet, but I am still smiling. [i]Despite all the songs about it.[/i] [b]”Well, you always were a romantic,”[/b] I offer, raising an eyebrow just a little as my fond smile wavers gently. 

[i]And growing up on the West Coast. I’m a walking contradiction.[/i] Laughing, I shrug one shoulder weakly and lean into his side as he wraps his arm around my waist, and we fit together so naturally, so easily, we’ve walked like this thousands of times before. [b]”I’m just proud to say that I’m the one who took your ‘seeing the sea in real life’ virginity.”[/b] I try to joke but it’s lame and I shake my head, smiling at myself all the same. At least I haven’t lost my shitty sense of humour yet, right? 

We aren’t really- both walking. I thought I was strong enough for this and I grow frustrated that I have to lean most of my wait into Ryan, but I say nothing, unwilling to show weakness even now as I stand, a dead man walking. I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I begin to taste blood and it is like metal on my tongue, bitter and sharp. I grimace at the sand but then Ryan is kicking his shoes off and I realise we are by the shoreline and Ryan brings us to a stop. Watching as he stoops and rolls our pant legs up in turn, when he finishes I seek his hand and lock our fingers together, butter again that I must rely on him so much. He is the only person I would let take care of me like this and even with the only man I have ever loved it is mortifying.

I stare at him until he looks away and we walk on a little, stepping into the wet sand and then into the shallow line of water is it ebbs up and down the shore, the tide soft and gentle on my skin. It’s cold. I’m so cold. I say nothing, I suppress a shiver and grit my teeth and stop again when Ryan comes to another halt, leaning into his side. I barely notice the birds, or the people further along the beach. He is all that matters to me. He is all I have left.

[i]Brendon.[/i] I know what’s coming and look sharply at him, my eyes narrowing, still somehow mustering up some defiance. I don’t need his pity or misplaced guilt. I just need him to be with me. [b]”Don’t.”[/b] My voice is not as harsh as I intended it to be, more hoarse. [i]Brendon, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do anything sooner, I just.[/i] I let go of his hand and move to stand in front of him, the water now lapping at our ankles and the light breeze stirring his hair. My eyes search his face intently. He is so beautiful. I need him to know that this isn’t his fault. [b][i]”Stop,”[/i][/b] I insist, pressing my hands against his chest and leaning against him again, tilting my head back slightly to look at him. [i]I let you down, baby.[/i]

[b]”No,”[/b] My voice is faint, distant. I’m tired, weak, I can’t muster any more fire than this. Instead my voice is hushed, but pleading. He can’t watch me die thinking it is his fault. [b]”I have nobody to blame but myself.”[/b] I can’t die knowing he blames himself. [b]”All you’ve ever done is love me, and- and you stuck to our vows, can you believe it, in sickness and in health- I love you-“[/b] I start to choke on my words and to try and suppress that I lean in, moving my arms to wrap desperately around his neck, and kiss him. Gentle. He is so, so gentle. He can’t live the rest of his life after I die thinking what if, what if. I won’t let him. I pull back and rest my forehead against his. [b]”I love you.”[/b]