Dedicated to http://coldkid.deviantart.com/  and her Empty Boy story


The cold air sinks into my skin as I walk away from the house. As I walk away from all of the good memories,all of the perfect moments I shared with him. My hair blows in my eyes,making it even harder to see as I carry my clothes in a rucksack in the snow. Few people are awake at this time,as it is still the early morning,and the sun is yet to rise,leaving the cold streets of London shrouded in a black fog from the sky to the pavement slabs.Drunken passers by stumble their way down alleyways,knocking their bodies against the walls as they fail to keep their balance.The sound of my shoes echoes through the streets,breaking the silence,excluding the sounds of repetitive car horns blaring on the roads. You would expect there to be crowds of men and women at this date and time celebrating,embracing each other,sharing songs of a time when they were younger,but no.
No crowds appear in the dim moonlight,as I suspect many have returned back to their beds,dreading to wake up the next day to the inevitable hangover. At least we have one thing in common;they had a good night.
Of course,I may have made the entirely wrong decision immediately after,but at least I had my last few moments with him.
We'd been preparing for this for at least a month,getting all the old decorations out of our rotting cardboard box that somehow is still protecting them,writing cards to avoid the rush when the time got closer and closer,shopping,booking a restaurant. We were planning the ideal holiday. But then again,all this time I knew,that this would happen,that I had no way to stop it. We'd been together for about a year,but there were little things I'd started noticing about him.
He'd get upset at the slightest little thing,and no matter how much I tried to calm him down,he just seemed to get worse and worse. I caught him crying in his room one evening,lying flat on his stomach,watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer while I was waiting for him to come to my room so we could cuddle up together. That night,I ended up alone in my room,hiding under the covers,silently sobbing and cursing to myself. He never wanted to do anything with me any more,and it felt like I was losing him piece by piece. Then one day,his personality brightened up. He was back to himself again,laughing,snuggling with me on the sofa,playing Sonic...losing at Sonic. The next day,I woke up by myself in my room,which puzzled me,as I had slept entwined in his arms. I guessed that he had gone to the kitchen to fetch himself some cereal,so I shuffled my way towards where I expected him to be. He wasn't there. He was in his room,snoring loudly on top of the covers. He'd moved during the night to his room.
There was a continuous cycle of this. His mood changed over and over,and I became more and more desperate for him to love me.
Then one night,he became more...how can I put it...sexual? He lead me into his room and I gladly followed. We had a perfect night that night,but I shan't go into the details.He told me he loved me.
The next morning I woke up to an empty bed. That's when I realised that this had gone on for too long. I had to put an end to it. So I wrote a letter addressed to him.

You may not have noticed this,my love,but I have grown tired of these games you have played with me. I no longer want to be with you ,as you have left me with no choice but to leave. If I stay,all I will be rewarded with will be one night of meaningless sex and I can't live for that.I have to leave you now. I love you Phillip.
Goodbye,
       Dan.

And so here I am,leaving my lover in the middle of a Christmas morning.
And I hate myself for it.