Rope II
You should also read the previous entry, called rope... It's just below this one.

It was raining again, endless, constant rain, and it just made her feel worse. She had been crying for a long time now, walking through the rain with tears washed away by raindrops. She had always loved the rain, the feeling of it, the smell of it, but tonight even this made her feel worse.

Everything made her feel worse, and she felt she would never smile again in her life.

She had gone to him one last time, to try and talk to him, to make him understand what was required, what he had to do to make this work, but as usual, he just nodded and said he understood, without hearing a word she said. And as usual, he had a glass of rum in his hand. Then again, he had first asked her out with a glass of rum in his hand.

This was the third time in as many days that she'd tried to make him put the glass away, to try and make him listen to her, and for the third time they'd ended up fighting pointlessly. Finally exhausted, she'd just gotten up and stormed out of the house, and just for a moment, she recalled with a pang of guilt, she had felt a petty triumph in the shocked look on his face.

It hurt. It hurt a lot now, that look. She knew that she was right, she knew that she had every reason to end the relationship, but even then, he had meant so much to her, did she really want things to end on this note? Yes, breaking up was necessary now, but she wanted them to talk one more time before parting ways.

If only she could make him listen to her, but then again, getting him away from the bottle of rum was going to be hard enough. He had absolutely no self control, yet he talked about settling down and having kids. How could he raise them when he couldn't grow up himself! Yes, she wanted to have kids, yes she wanted to have kids with him, but was he ready?

Still, she owed it to him to talk to him one last time, she decided. Wavering in the rain, she decided that she'd go back to his house, and talk to him once more, and then tomorrow in the morning, when he was sober, they could talk properly. She turned and walked back, following the familiar path through the buildings, getting soaked at the one point where there was no cover, then going on again.

There were other issues too, that needed to be dealt with. They had less and less to talk about these days. They were growing too far apart, and she knew that there was no hope of saving the relationship now. But she wanted to end things well, she wanted the two of them to be able to remain friends. And so she knew she would have to go and meet him now.

She reached his door - a door she had thought of as her own, to a house she felt at home in, because his presence was everywhere there, and it was unlocked as always. It was unsafe, she always told him, and he always grinned and left it unlocked when she wasn't there anyway.

She walked right in, and then to his bedroom door, and that's when she noticed the washed clothes on the floor. The rope on which he hung the clothes was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, she opened the door to the bedroom, and found him.

And the rope.