The door was closed. The lights dimmed and some soft and sad music floating in the air. It was the moment he had been dreading. The moment he knew was coming. The longer he held out the worse it was each time. Looking back at the past month things have been quite good. Why did he always return to this point? The sitting in front of his computer. Headphones on to drown out any other noise. Not matter how happy he was this moment always came. It was almost like he had to pay his dues to afford the cheer. The CD changed tracks and one came up. He reached for the knife and rolled up his sleeve. A long and slow cut from shoulder to wrist. Closed eyes as the pain soaks into everything, think enough to smell and taste in the air. A short pull across the skin to leave create a cross in the line. Then another one at a different angle. The point of focus was made and he spent a minute crossing over it with the knife. Caught in the moment he never noticed that he had a audience.

She had entered the apartment using the spare key he had given. She had knocked hoping to catch him before he went to bed. Figuring he was in the shower she entered quietly. As she entered she realized he was not in the shower. She walked to his room seeing a small glow from the computer monitor. He was sitting in his chair and it looked like surfing the web. As she got closer she watch him drag a knife against his arm. She held her breath pondering what she could have done to cause him that. She watched for a moment as he attacked himself and then during a lull she walked closer. She watched him go again as more lines of black appearing on his skin. Waiting for the next lull she walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. To let him know she was there. He set the knife down and pulled off the headphones. Turning around he motioned to the bed where they could sit comfortably.

An hour passes by as he tries to help her understand his need. The feeling that he achieved in his acts. The repeated telling her that it was not because of her. Trying to reassure her and make sure she understood this was a part of his personality that has been there for a long time. Comprehension came slowly but she did achieve understanding. In the end she only asked to watch hoping that an audience will keep him from committing the deed. She was almost correct. It hindered the first but after the pain obscured things he forgot she was there. Then when he was finally finished he wrapped his arm up and came back to her. Looking refreshed and calm he held her while she cried. He held her while holding onto the hope that she would understand it and still care for him. It was his secret shame and now she has seen it. Will things ever be the same again?