James.

Authors Note: This is a tragic romance I wrote a couple months ago... I'll warn u this is a bit sad, but I think some of you out there will like this one. In my own opinion, this teaches us just how ugly things can get when a relationship becomes emotionally abusive, rather than physically and how too much love can be just as destructive, if not more so, than too little.

Disclaimer: These characters aren't meant to represent my views on men, women, or a model relationship. Rather, they are meant to illustrate, in dramatic fashion the ideas previously stated. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Godspeed!

He was angry, and he was exhausted. James's heart pounded against his chest with pulsating curses on her; on Olivia. James leaped up from the cold hardwood floor and began to wipe his eyes.The vestige of hot tears still stung on his cheeks. What had he done wrong? What had he missed? How could he fix it? Those questions would soon be erased from his mind and replaced with the real question: Why didn't she ever say she loved him?

James had been waiting for eight long years. High school and college were behind them both, yet Olivia had still not returned his feelings. He had written sonnets, recited sonnets, bought gifts, made birthday, Christmas, and Valentine's Day cards, and had tried to give her everything her heart could have desired, yet she still dismissed him as a crazed obsessive.The two had known each other since elementary school, and James had always loved her with an unrestrained passion. Her deep brown eyes and cherry lips, her dark hair that shone brightly on a brisk April morning, her voice like that of a fallen angel, and her smile. Oh, that smile. The one James had seen many a time through teary eyes as he watched her pass by with a countless string of boyfriends. Of course, Olivia knew. She knew he loved her, and she knew he would do anything for her. Besides, why else would he allow her to live with him?

Not too long ago, it had occurred to James that it was time. Olivia had gone through a yet another breakup, and now he would finally fulfill his lifelong dream. He would propose. The ring was a homemade wonder. It had no precious stones, and no gold or silver. It was rather just an old ring-pop accessory. It was their third grade "friendship ring", and James had kept it in mint condition. "You've got it, James.", he recited to himself as he eyed the ring in the mirror. "Today, she'll finally love you, just like we planned." He began to tremble and let out that hushed but hysterical chuckle he gave whenever his great dream seemed closer to reality. And then, the tears came.

James remembered how he had burrowed restlessly through the cold, dark mud searching for the plastic treasure many years ago. Olivia had rejected him many times before, third grade, fifth grade, all through high school, and most memorably in college. He had spent a year or two compiling a list of the things he loved about her, and read them during their Psychology lecture, only to receive a prompt rejection and a humiliation he would never forget. But tonight would be different. He swore it would.

"Will you marry me?" James began to cry once again as he looked up into her puzzled brown eyes. She began to speak, and then paused, as if rethinking her response. Just as she parted her lips to give him an answer, a subtle knock came promptly at the apartment door. "Who's that," James said meekly.

"Oh, it's just a friend.", replied Olivia. She walked over to the door and opened it just enough to let her head peak through. James overheard scolding whispers in a voice that was unmistakably hers. She was so lovely when she was angry. After about thirty seconds of a futile argument, the visitor was gone. "James."

"Yes, Dearest."

"Don't call me that!", she snapped, "Go to bed."

But I-" "Go to bed. Now." The pale man sadly wrapped his ring in a paper napkin he had pulled out of his pocket and began to walk grudgingly towards the bedroom. He knew what was coming.

James could not sleep. The noise was too much. The cold, hard floor was uncomfortable and he began to toss and turn in the unquiet darkness. It was always like this when her "friends" came over. James heard the springs of the bed tense and relax with every movement, and he heard Olivia's gentle laughter as she conversed with yet another unknown acquaintance. He wished it was he who was with her up on the bed, and not that stranger. But he was told to be quiet, so James covered his mouth as he cried himself to sleep under his pile of old sheets.

"Good morning, Dearest."

"Good morning, Jimmy. Have you-"

"Yes, Honey...Here you go." James pushed a hot plate of pancakes towards Olivia.

"Do you love me?" She asked, her lips curling into an amused grin.

"Yes I do. I love you very, very much.", he nodded. James wanted to inquire about the events of the previous night, but experience had taught him that questioning Olivia about her personal affairs was entirely out of the question.

"That's good.", sighed Olivia as she gingerly sipped at her Lipton tea.

"Do you love me?", the troubled man asked desperately. There was no response. James placed his trembling hand on top of hers. Olivia pulled away from his touch, as she got up from the table and walked unceremoniously out of the apartment. James looked through kitchen window to see that she got to her car safely. She hadn't touched her food.

"She must love me...she must." James repeated over and over as he stepped onto the stairs at the end of the hallway. He looked back at the picture of his roommate on the opposite wall. It was from college. There she was, smiling that smile. And there she was, looking right past him; right through him. James felt an icy chill run down his spine as he averted his gaze and continued up the stairs. He stammered quickly into the bedroom and hopped onto the bed. After a good five minutes of thinking about what had gone on the night before, he began to rock back and forth uncontrollably. James started to scratch at his forearms, all the while trying not to cry. Olivia had told him never to cry. "There's nothing I hate more than a crybaby.", she had said. Before long, James's episode was interrupted by the lighthearted ringing of the telephone.

"H-hello?"

"Oh hi James!," said a voice full of false enthusiasm, "This is Dr. Adams. I'm so glad I was able to reach you this time. How are you doing? Is everything all right? Did you do as I advised?" The man gulped loudly and ran his fingers through his dark brown hair before answering.

"Uh, well, not exactly, I just...I can't leave her, Doc."

"Well you need to, James. Do you remember what we talked about? This girl is killing you inside. You do not need to be around her."

"But I love Olivia." He paused. "And she loves me."

"No, James, I want you to come by my office this aftern-"

"SHUT UP!" The man threw the phone to the ground with all his strength, leaving a warbly Dr. Adams on the other end of the line.

"Pssssh. James? Are you alright? Pssssh. James?" The warbling came to an abrupt end with a single stomp upon the half-cracked telephone.

"You can't do that," whispered James bitterly, "You can't take me away from my Olivia. You just can't take me away from my love."

A watery-eyed James hurriedly dug through the desk drawer on the other side of the room for the plastic ring, just as he had dug through the mud way back in third grade. Had anything really changed since then? The man let out a tortured screech when he found that his little treasure had disappeared.

"I LOVE YOU!" he screamed, the tears streaming down his face as he knelt before the oval portrait of his dearest Olivia. "WILL YOU MARRY ME?" Once again, there was no response. It was a portrait after all. As James began to sob harder, he heard the slow turning of the knob on the front door. Upon seeing the front of the black Stiletto heel that had entered the doorway, James dashed towards his love and wrapped his arms around her legs, causing her to stagger clumsily into the house."I'm so glad you're home, Livi. Lets go out on the town later on. What do you say?" James could see fierce contempt in his roommate's eyes.

"Is this the guy?," Inquired an unfamiliar voice. It was a rough voice, and one that made James tremble at every word.

"Yes, this is him.," said Olivia, shaking her head. "Jimmy, you mustn't do this anymore."

"Oh, yes Dearest. I know. It's just that I missed you. I'm so glad you're home...who's you're friend? Someone from work? Does he want anything to drink? A Sprite, maybe?"

"No Jimmy. He just ate. This is my...business partner, Mr. Stevenson."

"Hey, dude.", said the stranger, chuckling a little. James unwrapped his arms from around Olivia's ankles and stood up, brushing himself off as he did so. Two dark circles shone under his still-reddened eyes. He stuck his arm out as if for a handshake, but the stranger just stared at him.

"Jimmy," said Olivia, "I need you to pick up some things from the market. Here's the list." The pale, slender man was a little taken aback by this request, but he lept at the chance to do something for his dearest Olivia, and took the paper from her hand without the slightest thought of an argument.

"Oh, sure thing. Anything for you, Buttercup." Olivia rolled her eyes and looked back over to wink at her acquaintance. "What beautiful eyes she has.", thought James. With that, James Adler grabbed his car keys and left the apartment en route to the local Ralph's, leaving his beloved behind with her "business partner".

Upon returning to the 5th floor apartment, his arms full of groceries, James noticed that something was different. The visitor had left, and Olivia sat on the living room sofa with an amused smile on her face. "You're a sad little man, Jimmy.", she said. The man's palms began to sweat, and his blood ran cold.

"...Anything for you, Dearest." James didn't know how else to respond.

"Look, Jimmy, I'll ask you again. Do you love me?"

"Why, of course, Livi!", he replied hysterically, his left eye twitching a little bit.

"Well...I love you too." At those words, James excitedly dropped the groceries and sat down next to her, as if wanting to give her the world.

"Do you?"

"Sure."

"Does this mean we can get married, and have a family?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what does it mean, Sweet-pea?"

"It means I love you. Your'e quite the entertainer. My friends think you're hilarious. And I love the way you make like a sad little puppy dog every time I come home with them." James was a little disappointed to hear these things, but it didn't matter. She had said that she loved him for the very first time. A single joyful tear made its way down the side of his face. "JIMMY! What are you doing? Do you remember what I told you about crying?" He let out a joyful laugh as he wiped his eyes.

"Yes, Dea-"

"It's Ms. Jacobs to you!"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Jacobs.", he trembled.

"Now go upstairs and fix the bed sheets. And don't misplace the pillows. Be glad I allow you to live in my house." James had rented the apartment.

As he carefully folded the last corner of the comforter over, a familiar feeling of doubt crept into his heart. "She doesn't love me. I need to try harder.", he thought. Later that evening, James would return home with two dozen roses from the local florist.

"Hello, Dearest."

"Hi.", Olivia said, exasperated. "I got you these, Sweet-pea."

"Oh, did you?" James had heard this before from Olivia. It meant the conversation was over.

"I think i otta go get a vase...that's all, a vase."

"No. I don't believe you'll be getting a vase today, Jimmy. I'm going to the movies later. I need you to clean the bathrooms while I'm out."

"You're going out again? It's out annivers-"

"We're not married!" Olivia pushed a firm finger to his lips. This was his final cue to stop talking. She rose from the sofa, and went upstairs to prepare for her night out.

Once again, he stood at the lonely bedroom window and watched her Mercedes roll out of the lonely driveway and down the lonely street to the lonely street corner where she would turn away from his lonely apartment for the lonely rest of the night. BANG! James had smashed his head into the whitewashed wall. "Relax," he told himself, "She'll be back in the morning." Even so, James was devastated that his dearest Olivia didn't want to be with him on what he thought was their special day. Of course, they weren't married, but James had always kept July 12th specially reserved for her, just like he had every day. Without a moment's warning, the kitchen phone began to ring. It seemed that the phone rang every time she left him alone at the apartment. Olivia had scolded him for having been so dumb as to break the bedroom phone, so he wouldn't be pulling any of that tonight. James ran into the kitchen and answered it nervously. "Hello?"

"Jimmy?"

"Yes, dearest." It was her.

"Can you put those groceries in the fridge. I forgot to tell you earlier."

"Yes, dearest." He heard a soft click and the call was over.

James walked into the living room and grabbed the bag of groceries. He walked back into the kitchen and set the bag down on top of the counter top. As he turned to open the refrigerator, he found a suspicious piece of paper taped to the door. He read it aloud, his voice trembling with sadness:

"Jimmy,
I've greatly enjoyed our time together, but I am leaving you. I will not be coming back. It's become clear to me that you aren't going to become a man any time soon, so I am going to find my true love. I know you are probably hurt by this, but I need not explain my reasoning. You know you always were a bit...less than what I had expected. I did take your "friendship ring" or whatever you called it. I believe I misplaced it somewhere when I was out with Scott. I do think you'll find a way to...bounce back. That's what you always do is bounce back. A word of advice; do not call any woman "Dearest" or "Sweet-pea" ever again. It's a sweet gesture from most, but you've taken just about all of the splendor out of those cursed phrases. And please do invest in some newer clothes. A shirt and tie every day is quite...boring. Don't you worry about me. I've got a place to crash, and money to blow. I'm sure you'll find what your heart desires, provided you...lessen your expectations. Goodbye, Jimmy.

P.S: You can always call your dear old mother if you need any assistance. I'm sure she's been dying to talk to her little boy again.

Signed,
Your Acquaintance (And nothing more.), Olivia S. Jacobs.

James fell to his knees and wept. The words were beginning to smudge as fresh tears fell gently onto the paper. He desperately tried to wipe the wetness from the letter, but to no avail. The result was an incomprehensible mass of black ink. "James Norden Adler,", he cried, "what have you done?" He ran into the bathroom after grabbing the oval portrait of his love off of the wall, slamming and locking the door behind him. There it was again; the telephone. When he heard that it wasn't Olivia's voice on the answering machine, but Dr. Adams's, he began to cry harder. He placed a single hand over his mouth as to avoid being heard by the worried psychiatrist until he heard the machine beep a second time. James looked into the bathroom mirror as he gently rubbed the top of the portrait of with his thumb. "YOU LOSER!", he screamed, "YOU LET HER SLIP AWAY. YOU WEAK FOOL!" He lifted an angry fist and slammed it into the mirror. His melancholy reflection still prevailed. "STOP CRYING!,"he yelled, "LIVI TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT!" James opened the bathroom window and the warm, Summer night's air rushed in at him. He imagined Olivia floating gently out of the darkness and into his arms. "OLIVIA?," he called, "OLIVIA JACOBS! PLEASE COME HOME! I CAN DO BETTER! I CAN CHANGE! I'LL WITHER AND DIE WITHOUT YOU!" There was no answer save for the sound of the trees rustling in the gentle breeze. He'd had enough.

James took a deep breath, and used the little energy he had left to propel himself through the open window. Eyes closed, he felt the darkness envelop him and pretended that it was Olivia's arms bringing him closer to her loving embrace. It had been a very, very long time since James had felt the way he had felt right then. He was free, and he was happy.

The next morning, law enforcement would find no trace of James Norden Adler's body. Instead, they only found the oval portrait of Olivia Jacobs, gently smiling out from the counter-top of the sink, towards the 5th-floor window from which her loving adorer had jumped the night before.

THE END.