Hold Me

Hold Me

Darren slammed the front door and stepped out onto the street, he couldn't take the icy bitterness of the house. It was as though somebody had cast a shadow over the place. Maybe that somebody was her. Maybe that somebody was him. Maybe it was both of them.

It was a dark, dismal day and the clouds hung low in the sky. The city was filled with the sound of traffic and hundreds of people, some of them tourists, bustling along the pavements. The sheer amounts of people made his head spin. It was the sort of city that made you feel small, the sort of city that made you feel alone. It was the sort of place where you would be surrounded by people yet still yearn for human contact. Darren yearned for human contact. He yearned for someone to kiss him or hug him and tell him it would all be ok, he yearned for his own angel, but she was at home, mad at him, maybe even crying. Crying because of him. This made part of him feel bad, no, bad wasn't strong enough. It made him feel terrible, like a monster, a monster that had yelled at her and walked out. However, another part of him felt cold towards her, this part of him didnt want to make up, this part saw her as the enemy. This part of him would be glad if she was crying, after all, she had hurt him too.

A single raindrop fell from the sky and ran down his face like a tear. Then the heavens opened and the rain lashed down. He didn't even attempted to shelter from the rain, he just kept right on walking, it was almost as though the sky was crying, heaven was crying for them. He knew that the relationship wasnt working, they both did, but neither felt that they could end it; after all, they had been married for a long time.

He turned and walked down a side street, there were less people here, a few teenagers leaning against the wall holding cigarettes and wearing patched, baggy denim jeans watched him as he passed them. He could see the sadness in both of the boys' eyes; they could probably see the sadness in his eyes too. He passed an old man sat on the ground asleep, his tangled grey beard hiding his hungry mouth. His gloved hands clamped together, trying to mask the cold.

He sat down on a bench and looked at the floor, staring at his shoes. He couldnt allow himself to look across at the coffee bar where he had met her, he didn't need the happy memories right now, the happy memories were the ones that would always make him go home and apologise. He didn't want to apologise this time though, he was always in the wrong, even if he thought he was right he would apologise to keep the peace. Not this time, sure, he was partly to blame, but so was she. They were both as bad as each other.

He remembered how loud she had shouted and the look of hatred in her eyes. It was a silly argument, but a venomous one non-the-less. Some women looked sexy when they were mad, but not this one, she sometimes scared him. The worst was the bitter silence after the shouting, the silence that would bore through him, like a needle twisting in his heart. The silence where he would wonder what she was thinking, fear what she was thinking. He remembered how bright and full of life the house had looked when they moved in, they were just married and a young, happy couple, eight years on and the house looked dark. The bright white walls no longer reflected the light and even in the most romantic moments, the candles would flicker. That was their relationship, a flickering candle. He knew the candle was ready to go out.

He couldnt pinpoint the moment their relationship had taken a turn, but now it was on a downward spiral. What was at the centre, he didn't know. Maybe he didn't want to know; maybe he didn't want to see it through to the centre of the spiral.

The rain stopped, but the wind still whistled through the dark dingy buildings, the buildings that were staring down at him degradingly. He kept his eyes focused on the floor, trying to ignore the lonely, cold city. What was the use? He was about to go back to a lonely, cold home and lay in bed shivering as he feels the cold-hearted person beside him.

He sighed and took a white, folded piece of paper from his coat pocket. He unfolded it and stared down at the print. He had never wanted it to come to divorce, she had been the love of his life, but he couldn't take it any longer. It was only a matter of time before one of them would approach the subject. He knew he had to be bold. He picked a pen from his pocket and stared down at the dotted line before signing his name.

As his pen left the paper, the realisation of what he had done hit him. It really was the end. A single tear escaped his eye and ran down his face, dropping freely onto the paper. He stared blankly at it, at that moment, the only thing he desired was someone to hold.