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Their hearts were breaking, but they were breaking together. Fresh wounds from different people, they shared their agony, their pain and melancholy blood. “Fuck me.” She said. “What?!” He replied, shocked, but not more so than sad. “I don’t wanna hurt tonight. I don’t want to feel this. We’re both friends anyway. We’re both single now. We’re both hurting. What’s one night? I know it’s not a solution. But it might help ease this…this emptiness. For now at least. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I just want a distraction. Please. Just this once. We can save each other..even if it’s just for a couple moments.”
His mind raced with confusion. He wanted to, but it wasn’t the right way to face anything. His mind galloped with desire while his heart broke into millions of pieces. What she said made sense. It did hurt. He didn’t want to feel any more pain than she did. A temporary band-aid in exchange for his morals? It was just once. They were both bleeding the same wounds. They understood each other. They were both at broken ends. He wanted to rid his pain so terribly; ease it, even just for a couple moments. He wanted to feel wanted. He wanted to fill the void that had only earlier been filled and so suddenly emptied. He agreed, and in that moment he threw his lips against hers. She didn’t reject the motion, but molded herself into it instead. She was right. It eased the bleeding for a couple moments before he tore himself away, his eyes watering. He felt the ease too, but the pain quickly overcame it, as if to be sure he wouldn’t escape its bite. She saw the pain in his eyes, and knew he wasn’t so far apart from where she was. Her lips found his again, quickly and anxiously searching for that slight ease, and it did. It found it so easily as tears ran down both their cheeks. The war between their pain and their masking emotions. The pain they both felt was trying so hard to overcome this ill solution; this cheap band-aid. It failed. As their lips molded into each other’s, and their tongues wrestled within their mouthes, they found a temporary sanctuary from the monsters that were eating and killing them from within. They fought harder against their demons, throwing themselves onto each other even more passionately as time passed. Their hearts raced with a small glee that the pain was lifting slightly. The distraction was successful.
As the night grew old, they slept by each others side. Not quite filling the gaps that had been created, but making a decent replacement. It would take time for those gaps to fill themselves again. They both knew the journey they were to face both separately and together. When the morning came, they were back at the beginning. The monsters had won again, and the aching began. In the silence of the daylight, they both agreed that it was amazing how two different killers could create the exact same wounds.
