12AM. 12AM was the time the slow creaking of the door was heard, the rustles of shoes being taken off, and the light steps as he walked down the hallway to their shared room. He wasn’t out drinking, nor was he with some friends, he was just out. As he approached the room where his love was lying, sleeping, all he did was try to remember. Try to remember what went wrong, what happened to them. They still loved each other, but the constant fights and yelling tired the both of them. Walking into the room, he saw his love, sleeping with tear streaks down his beautiful cheeks. Once again, his love, had fallen asleep crying for who knows what, because all they do now is just yell. When was the last time they spoke? Putting his head down in shame, he walks to their closets and gets some clothes. He heads to the bathroom to do his nightly routines.

            Leaving the bathroom, he decides sleeping on the couch would be the best choice at this point. There are already pillows and blankets from all the previous nights he’s been forced to sleep on the couch. As he’s following asleep, a lone tear runs down his face and onto the pillow as he enters a dream land of when things were good.

            He is awoken by the slight bang of pans from the kitchen. As his eyes slowly opens he can see into the kitchen. He sees his love as he cooks breakfast for the two, concentrated on making a good breakfast. As he gets up from the couch, he attempts to make noise by stretching his aching muscles and giving out a yawn, but he gets nothing in return. He walks to the bathroom to get ready for work.

After getting ready, he heads to the kitchen for breakfast. As he approaches he sees his love silently eating. When he sits down, no words are spoken, no exchange of glances, nothing at all. When he finishes his breakfast he gets up, puts his dishes in the sink, and heads to the door. Not giving one glance back, he heads out the door, missing the longing gaze his love gives him.

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            After getting off of work from the office, he heads out of the large building. He heads to the park where he’s been always going. This time, he had gone to the store and bought a couple of beers. As he sits in the park he wonders if his job got in the way of their relationship. Was it the constant stress he was under cause this mess? As he drinks away his problems, he loses track of time. Before he knows it, it is 2AM and he still is yet to be home.

            Its 3AM by the time he gets home. After much struggling and a few falls here and there, he’s at the front door. When he opens the door he sees that his love is sitting on the couch, watching television. Not even asking why, he just heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he emerges, he sees his love sleeping on the bed, frown evident on his face. Was it because he came home drunk? Pushing away the questions, he simply walks out.

            Its morning and he wakes up with the worst hangover he’s had in a while. Its past breakfast, approaching noon by now, and he’s late for work. Choosing to not go to work that day, he calls in saying he won’t make it. He makes a slow and painful walk around the house and no one is there. He wonders where his love is, but it quickly goes away when the urge to vomit emerges from his stomach.

            When he gets out, he heads to the kitchen to make some food. All he can do is spread some peanut butter over some bread and take it back to the couch to begin eating, not forgetting to take some medication for his headache. He sits on the couch and watches the daily drama running and it reminds him too much of what they used to be.

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            He hears the door open and he sees his love walking in with bags and bags of groceries. He sees this, but doesn’t help because it would cause more problems. When his love is able to see him, shock is evident on his face. He makes eye contact with his love and all they do is turn away.

            After putting the groceries away, his love comes to sit next to him, something that hasn’t occurred for such a long time, neither of them remembers the last time it happened. When his love sits next to him a small whisper of “Why are you here?” can be heard.

“I didn’t feel like going to work” is what he replies with.

“Why? Too busy getting drunk and coming home at ungodly hours to go to work now?”

            And this is how it begins. The shouting comes next, then the full blown arguing at the top of their lungs. This has happened way too many times and he’s sick of it. He’s so sick to the point that the words “break up” comes out of his mouth and he’s saying things before he can even think about it. 

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a/n: made some minor edits here and there. final will be uploaded soon.

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