Friends and lovers, loved and lost

Art by Claire Ollivain

There was Michael, Eddie and I. 

Eddie and Michael didn’t really get along. 

Eddie was selfish. 

Michael was warm. 

Eddie held me down and told me he loved me. 

“I’m running late” 

He didn’t care. 

Eddie didn’t find me very attractive. 

Eddie would survey my body and tell me to try harder. 

Eddie tried to kill me 

a couple of times. 

Michael didn’t know about Eddie for a while and 

when I told him he was confused about why he wasn’t enough. 

Why was Eddie around on days when I promised it was just us two? 

Why was Eddie changing the way I walked, talked, dressed – 


I slept uncomfortably that night because our bed wasn’t fit for three. 

Michael rolled over and asked if I was okay. 

Eddie wrapped one hand around my mouth and the other around my throat, 

I screamed through his fingers but all that he heard was a whimper. 

“I’m fine”. 

Michael gave me a key to his place and told me that he was my home. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

“You’re a liar.” 

“Stay with me tonight.” 

“I can’t.” 


“You know why.”

“You’re cold.” 

“Hold me.” 

“He’s killing you.” 

“You don’t know him.” 

“You said you were fixing this.” 

“I am.” 

“I need you.” 

“I’m here.” 

“No you’re not.” 

“Hold me.” 

He let go and I fell. 

Eddie eventually left too. 

Some days I still feel him beside me 

and then I realise no one else is in the room. 

Yesterday, I used the key to open the front door of Michael’s house. 

He changed the lock. 

Filed under: