'It really is a shame...' br br He thought as he sat on the edge of his bed, br Face buried and hidden in his hands br br '...That I have grown accustomed to feelings like these' br br Taking a deep breath, he threw aside the steak knife, br It hit the hardwood floor with an uncharacteristically quiet clang, br Leaving a tiny red streak as a shadow br br 'Feelings like pain, abandonment and desperation' br br He recited these words aloud, before placing is hand to his lips, br Licking his wounds softly, loving and hating the pain that ensued. br br 'I love you...' br br He said smiling at a framed picture, next to the bed on which he laid. br Yet with the passing of one or two seconds, br His smile fell to a grimace as he spoke again. br br '...Even though I hate what you've let us become' br br Tearing his eyes away from the pretty little photo, his wandering eyes fell on the ceiling fan, watching it with next to no interest, the hypnotic sway of polished wooden bladed lured him into an uneasy sleep. br br 'Maybe I'll get lucky and not wake up tomorrow' br br He said in his head, as suffocating slumber washed over him br ...