A pleasure pain rushed over him as the man’s lips left his cheek. Pleasure he had wanted this for a while now. Pain the knowledge that it was far too quick, that he couldn’t have him it ran over him like ice water on the hottest day of summer at 2pm.   

Why was love so hard, a year spent admiring, loving and cherishing him for one little peck on the cheek that spoke volumes. He wanted him just as bad, yet didn’t have the courage or the will to end his already long relationship with his current girlfriend.

It was agony for him, watching the one person he thought he cared for most of all being with someone else; someone who treated him like , like he was only there to do her bidding. Though it’s also tough to see and understand both sides. He understood why the girl kept him there refused to let him see his friends. After all once you catch a unicorn you don’t let it out of your sight. 

He sighed with frustration and pain as they went their separate ways knowing things would never be the same. “I’m such a horrible person” he told himself for the millionth time this week, “how could I even be so selfish to want them to break up, who the hell am I?” He shook his head trying to clear it. When he got home His mother started in on him “Can you do this for me, and that, and don’t forget this.” All he wanted to do was to die; did she even see him as more than a butler? He sighed and just like she wanted fallowed her instructions till finally he was able to go to the comfort of his room. 

He blasted his music and went online, no one was on, he was utterly alone in the darkness, and he thought of the kiss, one which seemed almost as severe as the kiss from Judas before Jesus was taken to be crucified.  He sighed longing for death, longing for a way out wanting numbness. He grabbed the closest available sharp object which happened to be a pair of small scissors opened them up and dragged the cold steel across his arm multiple times abusing himself for liking him, punishing himself for wanting what could never be his,  punishing for not being good enough for anyone;  Not even his own mother.   

Numbness and guilt slid over his conscious for the bloody act as he looked in fascination at his bloodied wrist and arm, it always surprised him how so much hurt so little. It made him want to do more but the guilt stopped him.  He just stared up at his ceiling and listened to his music which was the only constant in his pathetic life. His one and only savior.