He’d tried… Believe you me, he’d tried… Days and days he’d walked to the harbour, walked back, gotten rid of a little more and emptied his soul out trying to get it all out of him. He’d tried rituals to cleanse his heart. Meditation, yoga. Everything. He’d done it. He’d even resorted to Buddhism in hopes that it would help him figure out why he couldn’t just cut the ties and move on.

            Probably because that other boy, you know, the one that had crawled into the empty space in his life and decorated it with his bright smile, had taken everything he had and thrown it out into a shredder. All the paper hearts he had were bleeding as they were shoved through the razors of that machine. That ing smile had been a charade, a mask to hide the horrors behind.

            He’d had so many memories with this boy, so many ing memories and so many good times. Holding hands, sharing drinks, touching each others hearts and promise – PROMISING – to never, ever, never, ever ing NEVER letting go.

            He sighed, dropping the dish towel he held and crashing into a booth at the restaurant. His apron bunched up around his waist. Not a damn was given. He clutched his head between his hands and focused on his breathing.

            “Hey man, you okay?”

            “Fine, just… Need to catch my breath.”

            Pounding. Horrific, bloody pounding starting in his ears and spreading around the base of his skull. It enveloped the whole of his head, clawing at the backs of his eyeballs, trying to pull his pupils in to see the hell of a party they were throwing back in his brain.

            Damn it, why did they do this?

            “You’re pale bro.”

            “I’m fine.” Dangerous, growling, roaring on the inside.

            A wild fire. He was a wild fire killing everything he touched. That’s why he’d left. Everyone left. Not one person stayed. Because he may have seemed dangerous and exciting at first, that’s how everyone saw fire, that’s how everyone liked to look at fire. Bu then, oops! Uh oh! One slip and BAM! He was gone. Destroying everything in his path, unleashing a line of wrath on people who weren’t deserving of it. He’d done it to him. That’s why he was gone, that’s why he’d left.

            No, no, no, no, no, NO!

            He left because he was mean. Horribly mean with no heart. Well, yes, he had a heart. He had his. He was probably poking needles at it right now.

            “Seriously, you’re sweating all over… Are you okay?”

            “F-fine!”

            He was doing it now. Stabbing and ripping at his heart. Because when he’d moved out of his life he’d taken the big space that he’d moved into when they’d met.

            Pounding, ultimate pounding in his head.

            Were wrestlers battling it out in his head?

            He couldn’t think, couldn’t even feel… Everything was so shaky… Like it was caught in the wind. He felt like he’d just run a million hours on a tread mill. Reaching for him. He’d always been there. In front of him. Dangling like a bone a dog couldn’t reach.

            Where had he gone again? Hell? Heaven? He’d probably go to heaven.

            “God, he was great…”

            “Who was great…? Hey, boss! Come here! I-I think he’s sick.”

            “ing stop…” Whimpers. WHIMPERS. Because the roar had been taken out of him. Lions could only roar when they had their big, scary mane to hide behind. They could meow when they had it shaved. But when they were reduced to the size of itty bitty baby kittens, they whimpered and simpered in their own feces.

            Stuck in a pile of . He was stuck in a pile of crap. The universe had pissed on him and told him to find a way to swim out of the sea of urine. He’d show them. He’d show them. He’d show them.

            Where was he? Where…? Had he gone… He had never left… No he was there… He’d always been there and this was all a dream… A figment of his imagination… He was back in his room, tight in his arms, dreaming of all the things he was going to do with him… He could… He could… He would because he was! He was there! He was in his damn arms and he was snuggled up into his chest, breathing in his smell.

            He couldn’t pick himself up because he didn’t have to. Because he was there to do it for him.

            “Aghhhh…”

            “Hey, MinHo buddy, what’s up? What’s going on?”

            So much pain… His head hurt so bad… So, so bad… Touching the scar on the back of his head… It was as if just yesterday he’d been lying on the operation table while doctors took out parts of the lump on his brain.

            Pain, pain, so much ing pain…

            He understood… He knew… He… He… He… Where was he?

            “Where am I?”

            What was happening?

            “What’s happening?”

            “MinHo, MinHo, I need you to look at me… Call an ambulance… Go fast. MinHo, MinHo, can you look at me?”

            Falling. “I can’t see…” He couldn’t see where he was. Where was he?

            Buddha, now is the time to come and clean my body. Stick some bleach on my soul and take away all the lingering on there. That trip on piss island really wore me out.

            “He had an operation about three months ago and now he’s totally down and incoherent.”

            “MinHo, please, where does it hurt.”

            Spasms. Everything hurt. What kind of ing idiot wasn’t able to see that? His heart ached. It longed for him to come back and see him and hold him as he cried into his chest. As the ambulance came and took him away and it hurt to not have that hand in his. To kiss his fingers before he was hidden behind those damn ing ugly doors and, and, and, and.

            “Wester’s Bakery, yeah.”

            “N-need… Water…” Standing up hurt. Falling hurt too but lying on the floor felt food after.

            “Hey! HEY! Tell that damn ambulance to get here faster! He just collapsed!”

            Hmm… Maybe Peter Pan would give him pixie dust and he could fly since walking was challenging when you couldn’t feel anything but tingles in his legs.

            “Are you doing this to me?”

            What the hell was he doing with his heart? Stringing it up and sticking it in the oven? The least he could do was take the clips off his arteries so some blood could flow to his toes. He was cold. Oh so cold…

            “We’re closed!”

            “MinHo? MinHo?! What happened?”

            That voice… Ha. He knew that voice. That voice he hadn’t heart in months because the last words it had said to him were haha you’re a ing idiot, here’s your heart now watch as my cannibalistic side devours what’s left of it. Ha ha ing ha. Yes,  he knew that voice. And he wanted it. Wanted it so bad. Where had it gone? Where did it go?

            “Where’s the ambulance?!”

            “They’re on their way!”

            “MinHo, MinHo, oh my God, I’m so sorry… Don’t let go. Don’t let go. No, you have to get through this. MinHo, oh God MinHo.”

            “Buddha…”

            It was meant to be funny. Had he even said it? He thought he had but his face kind of felt blank…

            “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was thinking… Stay, stay!”

            “Buddha…”

            “MinHo!”

            “Where the is the ambulance?!”

            “They’re coming!”

            “We’re CLOSED!”

            “MinHo!”

            “Onew…”