Rydon. It's really sad.
With a gun in my hand, I stare into space, hoping you that would appear. I wanted you to see all the pain that you caused me. Situations like these can always be compared to a story of tragic lovers, one similar to that of Romeo and Juliet. I stared at the open door, seeing your face, a horrified expression drawn on it. You look at me, begging for me to lay the gun on the floor with your eyes, but I don't. You wipe away what appears to be tears, and walk toward me. You kneel down beside me, yet you don't speak. I can't stare at you anymore, so I draw my focus back to the windows. You stand up and walk out of the room, through the white, seemingly fragile door.
I sit there for a while, hearing you drop glass cups and slam doors. I think for a while, trying to understand your frustration. I place the gun on the floor and climb to my feet, walking downstairs. The house was clean, with no evidence of broken glass and you weren't there. I sigh, grabbing my keys off of the coffee table and leaving the house. I drove to your house. The green house that always seemed to be full of sad people dressed in black holding flowers, but every time you came into my sight, the mood changed. And this time was no different. I felt instantly happy as I saw you, as if all of my problems had been flushed away, as if they had disappeared. I sighed deeply as I kneel down, touching the engraving, tears burning in my eyes because I knew it was the only place that I couldn't pretend at all. I couldn't pretend you were with me, because the evidence that you weren't was directly in front of me.
So as I kneel there, trying to smile, conjuring up sweet images of you in my mind, dreaming up your voice, you appear. You kneel down beside me and smile. I've become used to you never speaking. I supposed it's just become a relief that I can see my angel in front of me. I reach out to touch you but you disappear, just like you usually do. I wrap my arms around the tombstone, never wanting to let go, before standing up and walking out of the cemetery gates.
After the drive home, I cried for a while. I just sat on the floor and cried. I cried because I couldn't conjure you up, no matter how hard I tried. And it hurt. The pain was unbearable. I knew that as soon as I lifted the gun to my head, fingers on the trigger, you'd appear, smash a few things and leave, which would make me feel guilty so I'd have to visit you. It happened a few times every week. But this particular day, I wasn't giving up. I wasn't going to let you persuade me to change my mind. And honey, you didn't. I went out and got your name tattooed all over my body. As soon as I arrived back home I thought for a while. I had to make sure I was one hundred percent sure.
You walked into my room and I pulled the gun to my head. Your eyes widened and you stood there staring at me. You knew this time, you could do nothing.
'I'll be seeing you in hell, baby, because I can't live without you. I love you, Ryan. You'll always be my Romeo' I smiled as I pulled the trigger.
I woke in your arms, lying under the summer sun. You looked at me with hate before kissing my head. You wrapped your arms around me, the smell of vanilla drifting around me. I smiled and nuzzled your chest, feeling your warmth.
'This isn't hell Brendon' You smiled.
'I'm confused, Ryan...' I sighed, staring around at the romantic scenery.
'Baby, you died, remember?' You sighed, staring at my face. I was right. I hadn't been dreaming. I was gone, as were you. We were gone, we were nothing but memories. But you were mine, and you still are. We're nothing but tragic lovers. You were scared the car accident would kill me, you thought it did. But it didn't, Ryan. You killing yourself killed me. We're just tragic lovers. We're the modern day Romeo and Juliet.