His tears are golden. They slide down his face in a perfectly practiced sorrow that embraces me like a newborn infant in my arms. His eyes are so dark and moving, his lip quivering slightly as he pulls it between his teeth and stares away from me with such intensity and emotion that it may melt the floor below us.

It turns me on so much.

"I can't believe you did it again," he whispers hoarsely, not looking up as a fresh set of tears washes the old ones away. It's as though he's read my mind: i can't believe I've done it again either. I love him so much, I care about him more than anyone else in the world, and I've hurt him again. he's crying again, he's shaking and his skin is icy cold because of me and he won't be able to sleep tonight, thinking about all the wrong I've done and how he'll forgive me again because he can't seem to get over me.

I love it.

I've figured out by now that I do it on purpose. It's horrible of me, but at the same time it's because I adore him. Maybe it's a reassurance or maybe it's just a self-induced ego boost, but either way I'm pretty sure I like to hurt him because I love to see the power I have over him. I love to see the way he shatters immediately when he finds out I've been unfaithful again, how his face crumples and he has to turn to shield me from the hurt on his face. It's so fucking beautiful how much he loves me, and how much he hates to see that I might not feel that same way in return.

But I mean, I do. These other people, they just fill the gap and serve the purpose. They don't really MEAN anything ... I just use them to prove to myself that my love for him is not being wasted. because sometimes I get afraid; I get afraid that all the love I feel for this man is nothing because maybe he looked at me funny today and so I start thinking that he doesn't feel as strongly as i do.

So I just have to make sure.

And there he is tonight, sitting on my bed - our bed - and not bothering to hold back the sadness I've placed upon him. It's kind of getting to me, actually ... because he always tries to hold back. Usually, he'll just choke up and then walk away or refuse to look at me for a couple of days and then its okay, we're back to what I love us to be. But tonight is different. I think this time i feel the pain too much.

Tonight the love he has for me gushes down his cheeks like waterfalls as he crushes into a fetal position on my comforter, and it's healing the uncertainty I hold inside but it's also digging into me with a ferocity that nearly rocks me on my feet. Why does it hurt so much now? God, look at him. His hair is disheveled and matted to my pillows and he's clutching his chest, making funny noises in his throat. Sobbing? My brother … Why is he crying so much tonight? Doesn't he know i do it for him?

Suddenly i don't feel good at all. I feel nausea and dirt and guilt and my head hangs in shame. I walk slowly to the edge of the bed, crawling up onto it beside him and wrapping him in a hug. I pull clumps of wet hair from his forehead and wipe the warm tears from his eyes with the side of my thumb. Placing a kiss on his cheek, I nuzzle close to his ear and close my eyes against the tears that I feel slipping down my own skin. "I'm sorry, Christian," I whisper.

And I really am.