One Night

That night, It was cold, I was staying up late. It was 11 pm, everything went well for thirty minutes. Then he started to talk, he did his talk, the kind of talk that I wouldn't talk to anybody but myself. But he did the talk. The thing is, he didn't want to be hugged, nor held, nor anything. So I just listened. I listened so well my ears would recall it forever. The thing is, he didn't want to be helped. I don't think he wanted to be loved that night. 

The talk however, eventually it became the "ask". He kept asking me to do things, things that I wouldn't let anyone do to me. He didn't beg or anything, he kept repeating the request. And nope, I didn't do that thing to him. I just told him, maybe we could do it together. Maybe we could do it to ourselves instead of asking someone else to do it. He agreed, but he said that he lost his laptop and we couldn't do it together that time. So he kept asking me to do it for him. 

I never agreed. He told me how he disliked me and how he wished I had gone and he had gone earlier. And that night, he broke my heart again. I asked him if he meant what he said. He kept repeating his request, and he kept telling to leave.So I started to cry, and I told him how I hated crying at night. I told him that night cry would make you look ugly in the morning. And I guess, he suddenly became happy, knowing that I actually cried.

He eventually got tired. So he stopped requesting that thing, and he asked, "Who's winning the world cup?"

He was back again.