I had a dream…

I had a dream about Arthur the last night  I slept and the next day, I came across him. he wanted to help. He had two broken legs, and only one working at this moment, I was surprised he wanted to help.

He attempted to fix my broken headlight, the one I’d been driving with in the dark for months on end. 

He tinkered with it a little, and smashed the bulb. He asked me to give him a lift to the car parts store, so he can replace the bulb he broke. Autozone was closed,  but he knew of a Car parts store across town.

 We took the highway. There he told me about all the issues he’s been having. The insomnia-induced hallucinations which caused him to jump off that bridge.

He told me that I was in one of his hallucinations, it was right after a fight we had, and he thought that I was going to attack him. 

I said, “why me?” And that was it. No mention about how angry I “was”.

He told me how his car was repo’d after the bridge episode, and how he’s at a basic rock bottom.

After trying, and failing to find an open store that sold headlight bulbs, he asked me to take him to a gas station way back where we started. I had an inclination that he was up to no good, it was obvious that his rock bottom wasn’t enough to make him stop.

I told him, if he wanted to get his poison, I’d take him, but I really think he needs to stop doing that to himself.

 I told him I’d be really upset if something happened to him, then I changed and said, “please don’t tell your mom I brought you wherever.” 

He said, ” I know, I know.” He told me that he would stop before his birthday, which fell the week after. He told me he did some yesterday, and it wouldn’t make a big difference.

 I was shocked. I knew by the look in his eye, he had done something. He had pins in the dark when I looked him square in the pupil; I felt like I was in a horrible spot.

Being just a friend, kind of, it was not in “my place” to speak up at that time. I’m nothing to him… why should I even care?

The love of my life is destroying himself right in front of me, and I am adding to his eventual death. I can’t say no… but I want him to be happy.

I drove him home after we stoped at the gas station, he tried to find a bulb while we were there, but no luck. He told me to call him tomorrow and he will come with me to get the bulb and put it in.

I’m scared. What if that was the last time I’d ever see him because I decided to be an accomplice in his slow suicide?

What if, maybe I told him how I felt, and how much he means to me, what if that made some kind of a change? (That’s me being hopeful) 

I know I’ll always feel the way I do for him. I just know.

I can be fucked off my rocker, til my brain explodes in ecstasy, but it will never be how I feel about Artie. (And in turn how much better that makes his sex than anybody else’s)

He’s just it, for me. He’s everything I would want! But I am no where near he’s everything. I have a pretty face. And that’s it.