(Helena’s bed, 2:30am)

Her back is turned to me. She is sitting on the end of my bed with her head in her hands. I am angry with her. My brains immediate reaction to her is steaming with all the reasons I should tell her to leave. All I wanted to do was make love to her. Make her feel something else, like she asked me to.

Before spouting what my usual response would be, I take the time to replay her words in my head., for the soul purpose of throwing them back in her face. “I’m sorry. I wanted to be sure it’s what you wanted. You told me I wasn’t ready before, that you didn’t think I was well enough. Then we talked and I told you stuff, all about my fucked up life…and you suddenly want to do this…you come out here naked and ready to make love. Why? If I wasn’t healthy enough before what makes me healthy enough now? Not your damn chicken soup that’s for sure. So what is it? Is it because you really want to or because you feel you need to? Which is it Helena? Because, I don’t want it if it’s because you just feel obligated to make me feel better about myself. I already know my life is shit Helena, I don’t need you to confirm it, by placating my feelings.”

As I’m letting her words sink in, my anger slowly fades away from her and I turn it on myself. With all she’s found out in such a short time and everything that‘s happened in the last few days, how could I think that’s what she needed or even expected from me? Sex was not what she needed. She needed me to be just be here for her, make her feel loved not physically but beyond that. She thinks her life is shit and what’s my answer, exactly what my answers has always been in times like this.

I scold myself for returning to what I always used as a tool to deal with the, to hard to handle, emotional things in my life. Dammit Helena, there is more to love than sex. She’s the one who has made you realize and believe that. Just talk to her, listen to her and be there for the woman who makes you life worth living.