Sunday Evening

It's yet another Sunday evening and I'm on the sofa reading Murakami, he always seems a good choice for Sunday evenings. When the phone rings I know it's you, who else could it be? 

-Aitor- you say, your voice shaky.- I'm sorry to call you, but...

-I'm coming.

I take a light jacket and the spare copy of your keys that I've had since that dreadful night. We live five minutes apart, which has proven very convenient. As I climb the stairs to your flat I met one of your neighbors who says nothing but looks at me with sad eyes. I open the door of your flat and head to your bedroom. You're hidding under the blankets, hugging a pillow while sobbing. I sit next to you and hug you tightly until you stop crying. 

-Thank you. 

-It's nothing, Nekane. 

-You're a good friend, and I'm never doing anything for you, I always ask. And you're always here. You should get better friends, Aitor. 

-Don't say stupid things. Come, I'll make you some hot chocolate, it will do you good. 

I have long learnt that a cup of hot chocolate cheers you up. I take the set of blue ones that I gave you, after I realized all the others reminded you of Ekaitz. You had bought them in your travels, a silly tradition you had of looking for the ugliest mugs you could find, they were a trigger. The ones I had bought were light blue, plain, and had no memories tied to them. You still kept the old ones, however, not finding the strenght to throw them away, to be faced by the fact that it was the only thing you kept from him, that throwing them away would be harder tahn when you had to bury him. I give you your cup and you wrap your hands around it, drawing energy from the heat. I sit in front of you at the kitchen table, as usual I say nothing while you tell me of something that happened to you and Ekaitz once. When you finish your chocolate I wash the pot and the mug, as usual, and take you back to your bed. 

-Keep me company until I fall asleep.- you whisper. Sometimes you ask me to stay, sometimes you feel strong enough to go to sleep alone with your ghosts. 

You get in bed and I lie next to you on the blankets, hugging you, smelling your hair. It never takes long before you fall asleep, yet I hold you for some more time. And I tell you all the things I don't dare to tell you when you're awake. 

-I wish I were brave enough to tell you this, Nekane. I really do, but I can't. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, and I want to make you happy because of who I am not because I ease you from your pain. But you will never be able to love me, you won't because Ekaitz will always be around, as a shadow, as people who die young do, always young, always perfect in your memory. I wish I were able to tell you I loved you, and that this is hurting me. You're hurting me by asking me for help, but I can't leave you alone. I wish you could hear me, Nekane, I wish you could see. 

I cry silent tears that get caught in your hair, but you're soundly asleep. I lift you up so I can take my arm from under your body, kiss you on the cheek, and turn the light off. I take my copy of the keys and leave knowing that I will come back in a week. Knowing that I won't be brave enough to tell you how I feel once more.