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I don’t know if he cared or not, all I know is he left a lot of stuff in our apartment and he can never get it back…
“The whole truth is, I’m in love with him still.”
And as I walk around our old room we shared, the smell on his pillow fades, the cigarettes we shared still lay in an ash tray. We were never allowed to smoke in the building sure, but we did it anyway.
The stench of his cigarettes might stay like a Roman Colosseum, a dry and worthless monument to our… friendship? I don’t know what we were, and what that final visit meant. I only know I thought about it every day since.
Wham! I looked down at the object I just hit with my foot, a small bit of discomfort not pain that rattled in my head. Jame’s lighter. I remember the nights we shared on the rooftop smoking and laughing, crying and screaming. James fidgeting with his lighter anytime he thought of something you really shouldn’t think on top of a tall building…
I still have your lighter you gifted to me on my birthday, the year before I turned myself in for you.
I still have your book you would rant about for hours, the Shakespeare you hated but could never set down. I’ll have to read it someday, once the pain is no longer too much to bear.
I still have everything you brought but never took.
You knew where to find me, and I know where to look…
I remember what Pip said to me, when she told me the news…
“I was worried that if I told you, you’d never want to come out”
James is dead, and in such a way I know it was suicide. Tragically poetic, considering he killed Richard and we let him die, final cause of drowning. And Richard had tried to drown him too…
“I’m not a crook.”
James had forced out those words, some of the final ones I heard outside of my handcuffs.
But when I take a minute and think, was taking the blame ever a good decision? Of course it was. I would do everything for James… I can’t help but feeling guilty…
Opening the door to the rooftop, I stood on the ledge of the theatre we worked so hard at.
Staring off into the stars, I wonder what you wanted from me. That final visit, way back in prison… should’ve I told the truth? I couldn’t forgive myself, but… you’d still be here.
Standing on the edge of the building, I remember all the times we were here. I’m here now, but you, you aren’t.
I always came up here when something bothered me.
You knew where to find me, and now I know where to look…