The Leave

His penis lay limply between his legs like a tired old watch-dog, that had left behind him the days of chasing around every stranger that came to its door. The guardian of the gate way to his identity, his penis, which sometimes convulsed with the aftershock of residual lust, was now just one of his useless appendages. His desires were itemized and cached in a semi-dark corner of his mind.
He had been sitting in the room for a time when Valentine walked in. Valentine smiled awkwardly at him. It had been weeks since they last saw each other. ‘How’ve you been?’, he said. ‘Good’, Valentine answered while he took off his coat. He hesitated before draping it over the back of a nearby chair. ‘Been working a lot; not much going on in my life, right now. I’m working on my PhD.’ It’s OK’, Buck said ‘I haven’t much to tell either.’
‘You’re seeing someone, right?’ ‘Yes, we’ve been seeing each other for 3,5 weeks now’, Buck answered while he shifted in his seat. ‘We live together’, he added. Valentine looked shocked, but let his gaze meander. He stared out of the window. ‘That’s great. Really. You deserve to be happy. I can’t imagine what it was like… you know, after the accident.’ Buck cleared his throat. His eyes moved unsure as though they didn’t know where to rest. He smiled after a brief pause, looked at Valentine with the same hesitation with which Valentine had draped his coat over the back of the chair, drew in a breath with which he summoned some courage. He smiled again. He let his eyes drift to a somewhere left of Valentine. ‘It’s.’ A pause followed. He collected his thoughts. ‘It’s, it’s just not the same anymore.’ The listlessness stung Valentine. ‘The same?’, he said reflexively, ‘What do you mean, exactly? Is everything alright? I thought, you were OK. That everything was fine.’ Valentine shot him a quick glance.
‘Well.’ His eyes were still fixed on something left of Valentine. ‘I’m’, he broke off. He thought to himself that it was rather absurd that pins and bolts and plates kept his crushed bones together, kept him from falling apart. He was not filled with gratitude. What he felt was not gratitude. In their attempt to provide a semblance of normalcy they had robbed him of what made him human. ‘I’m sorry’, he murmured. ‘I have to leave.’ There was a silence.’ Valentine’s breath was quiet and his face was relaxed when Buck’s eyes met Valentine’s. ‘I suppose, I understand’, Valentine said after he had examined Buck’s face. ‘I suppose, I do.’