Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Near Morning
Near Morning
A relationship only meant to last until sunrise turns into a series of unbridled events
?Blocked
Songs that are mentioned and/or in the story are on this playlist:
http://grooveshark.com/playlist/Near+Morning/89761178
And I think it's best
We both forget
Before we dwell on it...
The way you held me so tight
All through the night
'Til it was near morning
"You know, I've never done that-"
"With the lights on before?" He nodded. "I figured that much," A genuine chuckle rolled around in my tired throat. The cigarette dangling from the corner of my lips sparked a small flame. I relaxed.
"I'm sorry," He gave me that adorable apologetic smile that started from the right corner of his crooked mouth. I enhaled, succumbing to my everso constant nicotine craving.
"Don't be sorry," My bare thigh lightly rubbed against his as his eyes lit up once more. After everything we've done, he's still so innocent. It boggles my mind. "You were great," Taken by surprise from my own submission; it was genuine, though, I never complimented anyone...ever.
He lie his head back on the pillow cooly. Exhaling and sharply turning to me. Our hair toussled roughly, breaths still ragged with burned out excitement. It was time to think.
What was next?
His fingers brushed up against my pouted lips, grasping the cigarette and taking a thoughtful drag. He just stared at me, as if I was some wonder. I tried never to make eye-contact. I stared foward, blankly at the two lamps casting a dim light over him, the bed and I. I already knew what he'd been thinking, and it scared me.
He attempted to blow singular rings of smoke, it ended up one big cloud. The tension broke in a whirlwind of calm laughter. He would be the only one to do that; make me laugh.
I had to stop.
He took another serious breath out, turning over and stubbing out the cigarette. I sat up on my elbows, admiring the view of his slightly freckled back. The cover ruffled around his waist, giving minimal access to his ass. Before I knew it, we were eye-to-eye for the second time tonight.
Our eyes caught in a frenzy, and like clockwork, everything we'd been avoiding, laid itself out on the table in front of us. It started with the bewildered looks, the dry throat and then the God-awful butterflies. I wanted to be the first to speak. I needed to be the first to speak.
"You're going to say this isn't going to work," All of the hope and adventure left his demeanor, and it hurt. It hurt because I was the cause, the catalyst.
"You don't know what I'm gonna say," I retorted, and like a five year old, I made a snarling face. He laughed, shaking his head. I stare in pure wonderment. His laugh; I felt it rolling in the pit of my stomach and light the fireflies in my depths. Ew. "I... I don't have anything to say. You know how I feel about this. We agreed it'd be-"
"Strictly physical,"
"Yes,"
"Did you really think this could work without either one of us getting caught up?" I had an answer, it just wasn't an honest answer. I looked around the room to see our clothes withdrawn all around the floor, trailing their way to the foot of the bed. It wouldn't have been so bad if we were oblivious as to how we got here in the first place.
"I never said that," If it was one thing my mother taught me, it was to constantly deny the truth. No matter how obvious your drug, sex or alcohol addiction was, pretend like it never existed.
"Look Gerard," I swallowed hard, baring the taste of him still on my tongue, the tears that I've never shed and the trembling of every inch of my being just wanting to pounce on him. All of a sudden, something came over me. Like a cloud of black smoke, it swallowed me whole until body was no longer visible. It made my posture wayward and my words hard to find. My eyes were burning but it wasn't fury. My hands were shaking, but this wasn't my nerves setting in.
"Please, don't make this hard for me," I was pleading. I was confused. He was confused. He hadn't been forcing anything upon me, he hadn't struck a gun flush to my temple. What the fuck was wrong with me? What had gotten into me?
I lost eye contact.
"Victoria," And that was all it took; for him to speak my real name. the echo started in my head and then roared through my feeble body. And only he could do this to me. Only he could call me Victoria. My brown eyes met his hazel. His expression contorted and we both realized that I'd been...crying.
I wanted so bad to tell him why and why not. I had all of the right words, my verbal skills were destroyed and all that echoed through the room were sobs. This wasn't pretty crying, not the shit you see in movies. This was full-on chest wrenching sobs. Tears that I should have cried every night before I met him. I was borderline screaming, my fists clenched to my chest and my entire body shaking. All of the pain of six years, everything I'd endured from the ages of sixteen to twenty-two. The drugs, the bruises, the sex and deaths; everything came back to me in a wave. It was as if I was reliving my past in that one moment. And then there was him, and the nights we had, the talks we had and things we shared. He'd been the only man that ever respected me. His eyes were never judging, not even in this moment.
That night at the party, I was faded; I could have been with anyone, doing anything, but I was with him. I just remember coming down from it, and he giggled with me, kept me safe. Fully clothed. That night, he was the only thing I remembered. He was the only thing that was worth it.
My breathing wore ragged. You could hear every breath I took as I enhaled his scent. My ebony hair wild and carelessly draping over my shoulders, down my back, over his hands. His hands that held me close to him. Why was he holding me? It's not like I was his!
"You told me you'd never gotten attached," He whispered.
"I've done this before, and I never have," I wanted to add on 'except with you!' but my lips were much too tired.
"Except with me," I sulked defeated. "Maybe we could get away," The more he persisted, the angrier I grew, and for what reasons--I still don't know.
"And go where? And do what, with what money?" I retorted. Lying against his chest, I felt his heart palpitate in pain. Wanting to take that back, I looked up into his eyes. They were glistening red, with mourn. But there was this glimmer of innocence that I've never seen in anyone I'd known. He knew he'd already lost me and after this, there was nothing he could have possibly done. We could have taken a Greyhound bus to the moon and some how they would find me, and I would be right back where I was.
"This life isn't something that is easily acquired, nor is it a cake walk to get out of. If you leave, you leave in a bodybag," That was all I heard, it was everything I knew. He looked at me, gazing like he saw some sort of potential.
"I know I haven't seen the things that you've seen, or experienced half of what you've been through; I just feel like you deserve better," Was he tooting his own horn? A small giggle left my throat. Reality placed itself in front of us again.
"I have myself to blame for everything that I've seen and experienced. I decided to do what I wanted, when I wanted--at a young age and that's what puts me here today. I can't hold anyone accountable for everything that's happened to me," He didn't want to hear it. In his eyes, I was innocent and harmless. In his eyes, the world forced itself onto me at a nubile age. I was some sort of product of a broken home and I had no choice but to turn to the streets.
"This is something that is beyond fixing and I'm not leaving it up to you to fix it," I was Julia Roberts in his eyes and he was a lesser version of Richard Gere. He wanted to save me from this life he had no knowledge of, so I could sit up in his SoHo apartment getting high and sleeping with him, only him.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is, you deserve better. Someone that you can call on anytime, tells you she loves you and can give you children. That's not me, Gee," I saw his heart break in his eyes. He sighes, taking me with him as he lies down.
"Same shit, different week--I guess," He relaxes in defeat.
"Yeah, I guess," I didn't mean that. I mean, we did go through this every Wednesday we met but it's never been this intense. I've never cried...ever! Of course we both have our attachment issues, but tonight was different.
Tonight was it.
I was slowly awaken by the tremoring vibration coming from my phone on the night stand. My eyes eased themselves open, still puffy from all of the crying. My throat still dry from sobbing. This literally was the same scenario every Wednesday of every week. I reached out for my phone, knowing it was going to be Karley. Ignoring her call, I sent her a text; not wanting to wake him.
I looked back at him. He slept just knowing that I was going to leave before the sun could touch the earth, taking my belongings with me but leaving him with the best taste in his mouth. He even laid an extra pair of clothes out for me that he bought himself, just in case I had to stay until morning. I frowned knowing full-well of my intentions. I never wanted to see him again.
His sketch pad sat on the dresser across from the bed that the lamps sat on. Slowly peeling back the duvet, I swiftly swung my legs over the bed. My feet were sharply met with the chilling hardwood floors. I slowly walked over to the dresser, grabbing a 2HB pencil out of the cup that was covered in splashes of acrylic; filled with brushes of different widths and lengths like a real artists. I flipped through his sketch book looking through finished drawings, unfinished pieces and an endless array of ideas. Realizing how talented he was made reality set-in even more. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but I knew I wasn't healthy for him. I flipped through to an empty page and didn't hesitate to write:
Dearest Gerard (I chuckled),
I know how fucking stupid this is going to sound but, this was honestly the best three months of my short life. I haven't smiled or laughed like this in a while. Since we were kids... Like the time you and Mikey managed to set fire to your Grandma's kitchen. I used to miss those days, until I saw you again.
That night at the party, I assumed you wouldn't remember me. I didn't think you would be that same little boy, with the best intentions to fix the world and change things for the better. I guess I should start off by saying thank you. Thank you for not taking advantage of me while I was drunk or judging me for what I do. Thank you for protecting me, spending time with me and making me feel like I have ample reason to exist.
For once in my life, I felt like I was the only girl that mattered when I was with you. It took me some time to realize that maybe in this lifetime, I'm not supposed to feel this way. Earlier, I was telling you that you deserved better. Well, I meant it. Gerard, I can't possibly be good for you. I know you're reading this and you're asking yourself "Well, if not now, when?" The truth is, I don't know when. The fact of the matter being, I came into this life knowing that I wouldn't have lasted three months. I knew I wouldn't have a future. I went into this knowing that some faithful day, I was going to die. And having no one around to mourn would be okay with me. I had to accept it.
When I seen you that night, I didn't know who you were. What I did know is that I wanted you, and I was determined to get what I wanted. The fact that you've seen me fully-clothed surpasses the amount of times you've disrobed me, simply amazes me. I think I got attached to the fact that you wanted to do more than fuck (I know you hate when I use it but it's what I know). You listened to me, you made me feel comfortable and you didn't care what I did for a living. I guess, in a way I'm still thanking you, but you should know how much I appreciate...you and everything you are.
I want to get on with flat-out saying that I don't love you, and I'll never be what you're looking for out of someone you could spend the rest of your life with. You're fortunate enough to find someone who will support you spiritually, as well as financially in everything you want to do. You need someone who can inspire you and be there on your every beacon call. A woman that you can show to your parents as a prize to let them know how great of a son they've raised. Share your life with a woman who'll give you gorgeous babies with your beautiful green eyes, someone who doesn't have a past. It hurts me to say, but 'm not that girl. I was never wired or programmed to be her. And I know it's grim, but one day, some day, you'll understand.
--
I hear the covers softly rustle as he rolls over in his sleep, I smirk.
--
It honestly pains me that you continue to love me, when you know I can't love you. I admit how horrible of a person I am for taking you up on this idea and thinking that we both wouldn't fall for one another. It hurts to know that I won't be able to share every moment with you again. That I can't hear your voice again, see your face again or feel your skin on my skin again. I'm not doing this because I got attached, I'm doing this because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything ever happened to you.
I've never felt the way you've made me feel before.
But I know it's not love.
And the girl you want is not me.
Goodbye,
Victoria
X
--
I signed the letter. Checking the time, I looked around the room; bidding a silent goodbye to my surroundings and to Gerard who was still turned on his left side. I quickly gathered my clothes and shuffled them on. As I stood up and realized this would be the last time, I watched the short-lived memories of us play out like a movie. Maybe we were like Julia and Richard. Who was I kidding?
I grabbed my bag, throwing it over my shoulder and fished through the keys. I unhooked the key to his apartment and placed on the dresser on top of the letter. I stopped at the foot of his bed, gazing down on his peacefully slumbering being. I bent down to give him a thoughful kiss on the cheek. I was going to miss him and I couldn't live with it in that moment, but I would find a way.
"I know you're awake because you never move in your sleep." I smiled against his cheek.
"Goodbye, Victoria." He whispered.
We bid each other a long and dreamy kiss goodbye. We both pulled away and something got the better of me. I don't know what it was but it made my heartstrings strum, my toes curl and my palms sweat. The way he cooed my name, my actual name, made me different inside. I found my subconscious doing flips with a proud smile on its face. And for a moment, I pondered; maybe I could be that girl. So I took the note, folding it quickly in the pocket of my denim shorts. Never to be seen by anyone
"Maybe I'll see you around some time..." His lashes fluttered in awe and excitement. With a face that lit up like a Christmas tree, fully lit and on fire; how could I resist?
"Yeah. Maybe."
Returning to normalcy.
Victoria wasn't reality. She wasn't real and she sure as hell, wasn't normal.
Baby was reality.
Just like the movies.
I dived into the hard Brooklyn air, wanting more for myself, wanting something I never had. I headed out that night with a different attitude; knowing I had it.
Then I remembered, it was only near morning.
http://grooveshark.com/playlist/Near+Morning/89761178
And I think it's best
We both forget
Before we dwell on it...
The way you held me so tight
All through the night
'Til it was near morning
"You know, I've never done that-"
"With the lights on before?" He nodded. "I figured that much," A genuine chuckle rolled around in my tired throat. The cigarette dangling from the corner of my lips sparked a small flame. I relaxed.
"I'm sorry," He gave me that adorable apologetic smile that started from the right corner of his crooked mouth. I enhaled, succumbing to my everso constant nicotine craving.
"Don't be sorry," My bare thigh lightly rubbed against his as his eyes lit up once more. After everything we've done, he's still so innocent. It boggles my mind. "You were great," Taken by surprise from my own submission; it was genuine, though, I never complimented anyone...ever.
He lie his head back on the pillow cooly. Exhaling and sharply turning to me. Our hair toussled roughly, breaths still ragged with burned out excitement. It was time to think.
What was next?
His fingers brushed up against my pouted lips, grasping the cigarette and taking a thoughtful drag. He just stared at me, as if I was some wonder. I tried never to make eye-contact. I stared foward, blankly at the two lamps casting a dim light over him, the bed and I. I already knew what he'd been thinking, and it scared me.
He attempted to blow singular rings of smoke, it ended up one big cloud. The tension broke in a whirlwind of calm laughter. He would be the only one to do that; make me laugh.
I had to stop.
He took another serious breath out, turning over and stubbing out the cigarette. I sat up on my elbows, admiring the view of his slightly freckled back. The cover ruffled around his waist, giving minimal access to his ass. Before I knew it, we were eye-to-eye for the second time tonight.
Our eyes caught in a frenzy, and like clockwork, everything we'd been avoiding, laid itself out on the table in front of us. It started with the bewildered looks, the dry throat and then the God-awful butterflies. I wanted to be the first to speak. I needed to be the first to speak.
"You're going to say this isn't going to work," All of the hope and adventure left his demeanor, and it hurt. It hurt because I was the cause, the catalyst.
"You don't know what I'm gonna say," I retorted, and like a five year old, I made a snarling face. He laughed, shaking his head. I stare in pure wonderment. His laugh; I felt it rolling in the pit of my stomach and light the fireflies in my depths. Ew. "I... I don't have anything to say. You know how I feel about this. We agreed it'd be-"
"Strictly physical,"
"Yes,"
"Did you really think this could work without either one of us getting caught up?" I had an answer, it just wasn't an honest answer. I looked around the room to see our clothes withdrawn all around the floor, trailing their way to the foot of the bed. It wouldn't have been so bad if we were oblivious as to how we got here in the first place.
"I never said that," If it was one thing my mother taught me, it was to constantly deny the truth. No matter how obvious your drug, sex or alcohol addiction was, pretend like it never existed.
"Look Gerard," I swallowed hard, baring the taste of him still on my tongue, the tears that I've never shed and the trembling of every inch of my being just wanting to pounce on him. All of a sudden, something came over me. Like a cloud of black smoke, it swallowed me whole until body was no longer visible. It made my posture wayward and my words hard to find. My eyes were burning but it wasn't fury. My hands were shaking, but this wasn't my nerves setting in.
"Please, don't make this hard for me," I was pleading. I was confused. He was confused. He hadn't been forcing anything upon me, he hadn't struck a gun flush to my temple. What the fuck was wrong with me? What had gotten into me?
I lost eye contact.
"Victoria," And that was all it took; for him to speak my real name. the echo started in my head and then roared through my feeble body. And only he could do this to me. Only he could call me Victoria. My brown eyes met his hazel. His expression contorted and we both realized that I'd been...crying.
I wanted so bad to tell him why and why not. I had all of the right words, my verbal skills were destroyed and all that echoed through the room were sobs. This wasn't pretty crying, not the shit you see in movies. This was full-on chest wrenching sobs. Tears that I should have cried every night before I met him. I was borderline screaming, my fists clenched to my chest and my entire body shaking. All of the pain of six years, everything I'd endured from the ages of sixteen to twenty-two. The drugs, the bruises, the sex and deaths; everything came back to me in a wave. It was as if I was reliving my past in that one moment. And then there was him, and the nights we had, the talks we had and things we shared. He'd been the only man that ever respected me. His eyes were never judging, not even in this moment.
That night at the party, I was faded; I could have been with anyone, doing anything, but I was with him. I just remember coming down from it, and he giggled with me, kept me safe. Fully clothed. That night, he was the only thing I remembered. He was the only thing that was worth it.
My breathing wore ragged. You could hear every breath I took as I enhaled his scent. My ebony hair wild and carelessly draping over my shoulders, down my back, over his hands. His hands that held me close to him. Why was he holding me? It's not like I was his!
"You told me you'd never gotten attached," He whispered.
"I've done this before, and I never have," I wanted to add on 'except with you!' but my lips were much too tired.
"Except with me," I sulked defeated. "Maybe we could get away," The more he persisted, the angrier I grew, and for what reasons--I still don't know.
"And go where? And do what, with what money?" I retorted. Lying against his chest, I felt his heart palpitate in pain. Wanting to take that back, I looked up into his eyes. They were glistening red, with mourn. But there was this glimmer of innocence that I've never seen in anyone I'd known. He knew he'd already lost me and after this, there was nothing he could have possibly done. We could have taken a Greyhound bus to the moon and some how they would find me, and I would be right back where I was.
"This life isn't something that is easily acquired, nor is it a cake walk to get out of. If you leave, you leave in a bodybag," That was all I heard, it was everything I knew. He looked at me, gazing like he saw some sort of potential.
"I know I haven't seen the things that you've seen, or experienced half of what you've been through; I just feel like you deserve better," Was he tooting his own horn? A small giggle left my throat. Reality placed itself in front of us again.
"I have myself to blame for everything that I've seen and experienced. I decided to do what I wanted, when I wanted--at a young age and that's what puts me here today. I can't hold anyone accountable for everything that's happened to me," He didn't want to hear it. In his eyes, I was innocent and harmless. In his eyes, the world forced itself onto me at a nubile age. I was some sort of product of a broken home and I had no choice but to turn to the streets.
"This is something that is beyond fixing and I'm not leaving it up to you to fix it," I was Julia Roberts in his eyes and he was a lesser version of Richard Gere. He wanted to save me from this life he had no knowledge of, so I could sit up in his SoHo apartment getting high and sleeping with him, only him.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is, you deserve better. Someone that you can call on anytime, tells you she loves you and can give you children. That's not me, Gee," I saw his heart break in his eyes. He sighes, taking me with him as he lies down.
"Same shit, different week--I guess," He relaxes in defeat.
"Yeah, I guess," I didn't mean that. I mean, we did go through this every Wednesday we met but it's never been this intense. I've never cried...ever! Of course we both have our attachment issues, but tonight was different.
Tonight was it.
I was slowly awaken by the tremoring vibration coming from my phone on the night stand. My eyes eased themselves open, still puffy from all of the crying. My throat still dry from sobbing. This literally was the same scenario every Wednesday of every week. I reached out for my phone, knowing it was going to be Karley. Ignoring her call, I sent her a text; not wanting to wake him.
I looked back at him. He slept just knowing that I was going to leave before the sun could touch the earth, taking my belongings with me but leaving him with the best taste in his mouth. He even laid an extra pair of clothes out for me that he bought himself, just in case I had to stay until morning. I frowned knowing full-well of my intentions. I never wanted to see him again.
His sketch pad sat on the dresser across from the bed that the lamps sat on. Slowly peeling back the duvet, I swiftly swung my legs over the bed. My feet were sharply met with the chilling hardwood floors. I slowly walked over to the dresser, grabbing a 2HB pencil out of the cup that was covered in splashes of acrylic; filled with brushes of different widths and lengths like a real artists. I flipped through his sketch book looking through finished drawings, unfinished pieces and an endless array of ideas. Realizing how talented he was made reality set-in even more. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but I knew I wasn't healthy for him. I flipped through to an empty page and didn't hesitate to write:
Dearest Gerard (I chuckled),
I know how fucking stupid this is going to sound but, this was honestly the best three months of my short life. I haven't smiled or laughed like this in a while. Since we were kids... Like the time you and Mikey managed to set fire to your Grandma's kitchen. I used to miss those days, until I saw you again.
That night at the party, I assumed you wouldn't remember me. I didn't think you would be that same little boy, with the best intentions to fix the world and change things for the better. I guess I should start off by saying thank you. Thank you for not taking advantage of me while I was drunk or judging me for what I do. Thank you for protecting me, spending time with me and making me feel like I have ample reason to exist.
For once in my life, I felt like I was the only girl that mattered when I was with you. It took me some time to realize that maybe in this lifetime, I'm not supposed to feel this way. Earlier, I was telling you that you deserved better. Well, I meant it. Gerard, I can't possibly be good for you. I know you're reading this and you're asking yourself "Well, if not now, when?" The truth is, I don't know when. The fact of the matter being, I came into this life knowing that I wouldn't have lasted three months. I knew I wouldn't have a future. I went into this knowing that some faithful day, I was going to die. And having no one around to mourn would be okay with me. I had to accept it.
When I seen you that night, I didn't know who you were. What I did know is that I wanted you, and I was determined to get what I wanted. The fact that you've seen me fully-clothed surpasses the amount of times you've disrobed me, simply amazes me. I think I got attached to the fact that you wanted to do more than fuck (I know you hate when I use it but it's what I know). You listened to me, you made me feel comfortable and you didn't care what I did for a living. I guess, in a way I'm still thanking you, but you should know how much I appreciate...you and everything you are.
I want to get on with flat-out saying that I don't love you, and I'll never be what you're looking for out of someone you could spend the rest of your life with. You're fortunate enough to find someone who will support you spiritually, as well as financially in everything you want to do. You need someone who can inspire you and be there on your every beacon call. A woman that you can show to your parents as a prize to let them know how great of a son they've raised. Share your life with a woman who'll give you gorgeous babies with your beautiful green eyes, someone who doesn't have a past. It hurts me to say, but 'm not that girl. I was never wired or programmed to be her. And I know it's grim, but one day, some day, you'll understand.
--
I hear the covers softly rustle as he rolls over in his sleep, I smirk.
--
It honestly pains me that you continue to love me, when you know I can't love you. I admit how horrible of a person I am for taking you up on this idea and thinking that we both wouldn't fall for one another. It hurts to know that I won't be able to share every moment with you again. That I can't hear your voice again, see your face again or feel your skin on my skin again. I'm not doing this because I got attached, I'm doing this because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything ever happened to you.
I've never felt the way you've made me feel before.
But I know it's not love.
And the girl you want is not me.
Goodbye,
Victoria
X
--
I signed the letter. Checking the time, I looked around the room; bidding a silent goodbye to my surroundings and to Gerard who was still turned on his left side. I quickly gathered my clothes and shuffled them on. As I stood up and realized this would be the last time, I watched the short-lived memories of us play out like a movie. Maybe we were like Julia and Richard. Who was I kidding?
I grabbed my bag, throwing it over my shoulder and fished through the keys. I unhooked the key to his apartment and placed on the dresser on top of the letter. I stopped at the foot of his bed, gazing down on his peacefully slumbering being. I bent down to give him a thoughful kiss on the cheek. I was going to miss him and I couldn't live with it in that moment, but I would find a way.
"I know you're awake because you never move in your sleep." I smiled against his cheek.
"Goodbye, Victoria." He whispered.
We bid each other a long and dreamy kiss goodbye. We both pulled away and something got the better of me. I don't know what it was but it made my heartstrings strum, my toes curl and my palms sweat. The way he cooed my name, my actual name, made me different inside. I found my subconscious doing flips with a proud smile on its face. And for a moment, I pondered; maybe I could be that girl. So I took the note, folding it quickly in the pocket of my denim shorts. Never to be seen by anyone
"Maybe I'll see you around some time..." His lashes fluttered in awe and excitement. With a face that lit up like a Christmas tree, fully lit and on fire; how could I resist?
"Yeah. Maybe."
Returning to normalcy.
Victoria wasn't reality. She wasn't real and she sure as hell, wasn't normal.
Baby was reality.
Just like the movies.
I dived into the hard Brooklyn air, wanting more for myself, wanting something I never had. I headed out that night with a different attitude; knowing I had it.
Then I remembered, it was only near morning.
Sign up to rate and review this story