"Elijah, I think you shouldn't marry her. Don't propose to her. Not...not yet."
His voice sounds desperate in a way, but maybe it's just my imagination. He adds a quiet "please" and his voice trembles. It sounds like begging, I realise. I imagine myself saying "okay" in return, watching his surprised eyes and leaning in for a kiss. Instead I glare at him, saying "Gee, Dominic, when will you get it? My life is none of your business any longer, see? What I choose to do is of no concern to you."

We are in my trailer. Again. Again after so many months. Again in New Zealand. It felt so damned good to see all the people again, all the friends I made. It hurt so much to see Dominic again.

My emotions are really no help today. I want to be factual and unemotional. I don't want this conversation to touch my heart or my soul. I tried very hard to build up a wall around me during the last weeks, but now I realise that it didn't properly work. Dom's craving voice, his obvious desperation makes the wall collapse. The atmosphere of this fucking small and cozy trailer makes me remember things that happened on a trailer just like this in the past, things that I tried so hard not to think of during the past months. Long and passionate kisses during short filming breaks, handjob-breaks instead of coffee-breaks, blowjobs while changing, we were pretty crazy.

Dom buries his head in his hands. My heart wants me to go over to where he's sitting and stroke my fingers through his hair. But reason tells me I can't do that. It tells me to stay hard and distanced. The thing is, I have made some decisions, some final resolutions. I decided to let things return to normal, to live without Dom, to forget about Dom and the past. I decided not to love Dom. He needs to know that I will never come back to him, that things have changed, that I meant what I said when I broke up with him. For I meant it, yeah. I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't meant it, would I? And I will not take it back.
It's just that he looks so tiny and desperate and helpless. I want him to feel better...but no, there's nothing I can do.

He raises his head, slowly, like in a slow-motion shot. He starts talking. His voice is much firmer now.
"Sorry, but I just meant it as a piece of advice. Like friends give advice to their friends. That's all. I did not mean to stick my nose into your privacy. I know that it's up to you what you do... It's just that I do not want you to make a mistake. I couldn't see you unhappy."
I'm not sure what to answer. Is he telling the whole truth? I don't know if it's just about giving advice and not about getting me back. He does want me back, I thought. Yes, I'm sure he wants me back. It *must* be he wants me back.
"Listen, Elijah, I..."
"No, man, you listen to me. Know what I think? I think the thing is that you do not want to see me *happy*. That's it. You cannot stand the thought of me being happy with a girl, while you are still crawling on the floor, longing for something that has long passed by, something that won't return."
"Lij, calm down," he says. His voice is so fucking composed now, that it makes me even more furious.
"Do you really think I'm coming back to you? Really? If you think that you are a complete fool."
He does not say anything to that, whatever that means. Why does he not answer? I'm quite in a rage now, even though I do not exactly know why. I do not want to argue with Dom. I never want to argue with Dom. All I want is to make some things clear. I want to consider that thing we had as finally closed. I do not want to lay awake every night any longer thinking of Dominic, of his crazy but absolute adorable smile or of his eyes that sometimes look so sorrowful. I do not want to wonder what he's doing while I toss and turn in my bed, if he's with another guy or something, if he is fucking someone else on that particular moment, and I do not want the pain that goes hand in hand with that consideration. I just want to forget, I want to find my peace. I want a regular life, a quiet life, a straight life, a life with a woman by my side, a life that is free of distractions. Free of Dominic. And then someday that pain will stop. To reach my aims, however, I have to be strong now.

"I tell you I won't come back. Not ever. You can forget about it. Forget about me. I'm finished with it. I don't know what the fuck went through my mind when I thought I loved you. But well, everybody has to make mistakes in his life in order to learn from them. I learned from my mistake. I will never do something like that again."

I know that was mean. I know that hurt. But sometimes it's necessary to say mean words to make things clear. Sometimes it's easier to say mean things instead of telling the truth. Dom does not need to know that something inside of me still loves him. It's much easier for me, and even for him, if he thinks I'm really over it. If he is angry at me it's easier for me to forget him. Maybe.
Dom is a strong guy, anyway, he will take it as a man. It wasn't so nasty, was it? Well, his eyes are filled with tears, but he tries to hold them back, tries not to show any weakness. So let's say he tries to be a strong guy. Or he pretends to be a strong guy. But, come on, he will get over it. If I will get over it, he will, too.

His answer is only a whisper.

"A mistake, eh? So it was a mistake for you, nothing more, did I get that right?"

I nod, but the little movement makes me feel so weak that I just want to lay down on the floor right here and sleep and forget. And I do not want to listen to the words Dom's saying next. I just want him to leave now. Please go.
But he doesn't. He answers, harsh and obviously mad at me.

"It didn't seem that you thought of it as a mistake when you loved me."

No, it didn't, but that's not the point. I do not answer. I'm not able to speak.

"Or, sorry, when you *thought* you loved me. When you pretended you loved me more than anyone else in the world every time you saw me."

I want him to shut up, but I can't tell him.

"When you said we will never be apart again, come what may. When you said you wanted me and I'm the only one."

Okay, stop it, I get it. The words are like arrows invading my chest.

"When you couldn't get your hands off of me. When you asked me to fuck you."


"You are a fucking bad liar, Elijah. You cannot tell me that you regret what we had. Your eyes reveal you. They let me look right into your heart, and what I see is...well, you know what I see."

Fuck. Why does he always know what I am thinking? What I am feeling? It has always been like this. My eyes are like an open book to him, and I fucking hate it.

Okay, I got it. He has reached his aims: I'm just a heap of shit now. So why isn't he going? Leave me alone so I can lay down and die.

He does not move, and I realise that he will not move. I try to be honest, well not completely honest, but at least I try to explain my reasons.

"Dominic, all I want is a normal and usual life. You and me...that would not work."

And why not? Why not? What's so wrong about it? I continue.

"Franka is a nice girl. She's pretty and she is intelligent. She makes me laugh. She loves me. So why shouldn't I marry her?"

Well spoken. I lean back against the wall. I feel kind of exhausted. I suddenly realize that I am weeping. Since when? Well, it doesn't matter any longer, for Dominic is standing up. So he's leaving now. I convinced him. He's going. Probably forever. Okay. No really, it's okay. I can bear it. Didn't I want to be alone? Didn't I want him to leave?
But he isn't walking towards the door. He walks over to where I'm standing. He stops in front of me. And now?

"Because you do not truly love her."

Oh my God. How does he know? How does he know, when nobody else knows, not even Franka. I thought I played my role so well. Everybody believed in my love for her. Franka did, Mom did, Hannah did, my friends did, the whole world did. Or did anybody else see through it, like Dom did? Who saw through and knew that I was just a liar, a hypocrite?

I sigh and close my eyes for I know that if I look in his face one second longer, I'll wrap my arms around his shoulders and cry like a little child. Because I'm feeling so bad, because my life went so wrong since I left Dom, because I missed him so much, because I lied, because I'm sure I'm just an asshole in his eyes now. But that would be like giving in, like throwing my intentions overboard.

I feel his thumbs wiping off my tears. My eyes are still closed. I feel his warm breath against my cheek. He must be so near. I know that I could just move an inch forward and he would be there and he would not reject me. Or would he reject me? Would he push me away? I don't know. But... no I will not try it, I cannot.

I open my eyes, and his eyes, his wonderful eyes, are just in front of me. I don't know what he has possibly seen in my eyes that makes him kiss me. It's a gentle kiss, a shy kiss. It's like our first kiss on that rainy afternoon in Wellington. His lips brush mine so slightly. So near, but yet still too far away. I'm afraid that he will stop. No, don't leave, don't, I lied, I lied, I love you.
As if he can hear the words going through my mind, he lays his palms on my cheeks holding my face in his hands. I sigh. This is odd. It's wrong. This is not my intention of this meeting. But actually it's the fulfilling of my dreams. If the kiss will last a second longer I can not keep my intentions any longer, I know. It reminds me of how much I still love him.
His hands leave my face, as well as his lips. No! No, don't go! But he isn't about to go. His lips kiss my neck, then that spot between my neck and my shoulder. I love that and he still knows. His hands slide down my body, and it makes me shiver. They wander under my T-shirt, over my lower back, over my stomach, and then he opens the three upper buttons of my jeans. His hand slides in and...oh, how I missed these hands! He presses his hand on my crotch, rubbing up and down and I cannot do anything but moan.
And then his lips are on mine again, in no way shy any longer, but passionate and hungry. His tongue bounces into my mouth and finds my tongue, and at this point I give in. Totally. I know that I cannot resist him. I longed for this since the day I left him. I wanted this so much that every time I saw him in the meantime I thought I was going to burst. I tried to pretend I felt well, but it was a lie. A lie even to myself.
He pushes me against the cool wall. His hand is still in my jeans. My hands had hung loose next to my body until now. Now, I raise them and put them under his shirt. It's too late to stop now anyway. My fingers caress his back. His hand is working on my growing erection, stroking me slowly, teasing me, and I moan into the kiss, my hands grabbing onto the working muscles of his back. I want him to be nearer. I wrap my hands around his cheeks, grab that perfectly formed ass, feeling the fabric of these beige cord trousers he's wearing today. I pull him nearer. I feel his arousal against my lower belly. He still wants me, I think. After that mean and sudden end I made to our relationship, after all the months I openly ignored his messages on my answering machine and never called him back, after all the nasty things I said, he still wants me. The thought of my effect on him makes me even harder, makes me wanting him wholly.

"I'm sorry," I whimper. "So sorry." He covers my mouth with his free hand, saying "shh". Then he removes my T-shirt. He pulls it over my head and it falls to the ground. He begins to stroke my nipples with his thumbs, he draws little circles around them with his fingertips, then licks them, bites them gently, and I like it, yes, I always liked the way he does this, but it's not what I want right now. No, at that particular moment I desire something else, I'm not in the mood for any foreplay today, because I hungered for this moment for far to long now. I want to feel him inside of me again, I want him so desperately it hurts. So I lift his head and let him look into my eyes and while I open his jeans I whisper in his ear: "Dom, I'm sorry I lied. I love you. Can you ever forgive me?" and he nods and whispers something in return, probably an "I love you, too" but I don't understand and it doesn't matter, and I say: "Fuck me, Dom, " and for a moment I'm afraid that he will say no, for I remember his harsh words earlier, but the look in his eyes encourages me, and the desire I see there makes me repeat it: "Dominic, I want you to fuck me. Here. Right now," and his jeans slide to the floor.

I reach into my bag on the table to my left and I'm really wondering why I made lube and condoms part of my baggage. Okay, somewhere deep inside I knew the reason.

I open the small tube and squeeze a bit of the cool paste onto my hand. I pause. Suddenly I'm feeling shy again, like then, when all this started and I was so much younger than today. Everything had been so new to me. I have the feeling I have grown a thousand years older since then.
Dom kisses me again and takes my hand, leading it to its destination. I haven't touched his hardness until now, but I know he has waited for it. I can feel it.
He throws his head back and groans and says something about how much he longed for me since then and how much he wants me and I simply smile at him. He kisses me before he takes the tube from me and squeezes it and I close my eyes. While he's making me ready, I forget about the world surrounding us. An earthquake could happen now and I probably wouldn't realise it. I'm in heaven.
I open my eyes again, facing him. In his heavenly British accent he says: "I beg your pardon, but will you please be so kind as to turn around," and if I wasn't so fucking horny I would laugh out loud now. But I just offer him a light grin I can give him at that moment and turn around, putting the palms of my hands on the table to support me.

I feel his lips on my neck. They are kissing my spine from top to bottom. Then I feel one of his hands on my hip, what the other one is doing I cannot make out. I feel him. He' so near again. I wish he had never been away. Then he pushes forward and I feel him inside. Not deep yet, but moving constantly, and I feel like crying of happiness. And at this moment I suddenly have to think of Franka and if she would mind that I'm cheating on her, and if she is lying in her bed now wondering what I'm doing. And I know that she would mind. But I decide that it is better this way, better then pretending you love her while you are in love with someone else. She has no business to be here in this moment, so I put the thought of her away.
And then I let myself go. Dom's inside of me, thrusting in, again and again, but still rather slowly. I moan and thrust back against him, wanting him deeper and faster, and he knows what I want and fulfils my wish, his hands on my hips, pulling me towards him, and I hear him breathing behind me, and I groan, and maybe I form words, words of love and words of ecstasy, but I'm not quite sure, but what I know for sure is that I'm saying his name over and over again. And then he leans over, his chest touches my back, his arms surround the upper part of my body, like he's claiming me, like he does not want to let me go, and I think that he's like a drug to me, a drug that makes me feel high every time I consume it, every time I even only think of it. It's a drug I cannot resist. I sent myself to a clinic in order to get rid of it, to get clean again. I tried so hard to get over my addiction. I wanted to persuade myself that this drug is doing no good to me, that it is something evil destroying my life. But my withdrawal treatment was useless, I have to admit now. Dom is a drug and I am an addict. I cannot resist it, not in the past, not in the present and not in the future. And I do not *want* to resist any longer. I will accept my addiction.
Fast and hard are his thrusts now and I cannot hold it back any longer, and I'm coming and he feels it and his movements almost stop. He pets my back and licks my neck, but I tell him to go on or something, tell him to take what is his and will always be his from now on, and he does what I tell him, until I feel his orgasm inside me shortly after, and he sinks down over my back, still jerking because of the aftershocks.

I want to crawl under the blankets of a bed now and fall asleep cuddled up in his arms. But we are already late, and there's no time now. So we put on our clothes again, in silence. Before we leave the trailer he faces me, and while I am feeling absolutely high and happy, not desperate for the first time in months, it is fear that I see in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" I ask him, stroking his cheek.

"Please, Elijah, don't tell me it was just a one-night-thing or whatever. Please don't say you will return to her," and it sounds like begging, like at the beginning of this conversation.

But this time I say "okay" in return, I watch his relieved eyes and lean in for a kiss.