Blind Item #15 - Stranger Things Have Happened - A Himmmm Blind Item - Part 8

I saw the clock - it was just past 1pm that Wednesday afternoon.  He'd slipped away gently…quietly.  With almost a smile of peace on his face.  With my own blood pumping through his heart.  My blood pumping through his veins, beating those last beats of life through his body…was my own blood mixed with his.  Brothers…til the very end.

All I could say to Cissy, over and over was: "I let you down…I wasn't there."  She never felt that towards me, but it was how I felt.  Like, If I'd stayed there to see to every detail.  If I'd not supported pushing the team so hard.  If I'd offered to get investors to buy it and go slower.  I would have given every fucking worthless dollar my family and friends and companies ever had, just to have him back.  If I'd just swallowed my pride and asked my people for the money to buy the film outright, to buy us more time to shoot slower.  Not to push it to "eleven" like some cocky kid.  Then maybe he'd still be here.  If I'd never brought the film to this studio…to this state.  Now he was gone, just like I'd last played with that legendary iconic actress on those same sands in my childhood; those same beaches…now I'd lost Buddy too.  It was my fault, somehow.  I was cursed.  It had to be.  I couldn't shake the guilt…that heavy weight…that all I'd done had led up to this.

I spent that tragic night with a shocked, inconsolable Nin. We holed up away from the world in a place on the beach.  Sealed off in shock and hurt.  Anger.  Guilt.  Fear and burden.  Even losing my own family member months before hadn't hurt like this. Replaying every single word, each second of our lives together.  Nin stared for hours at the darkness and the moon out across the balcony.  The winds blowing us, holding and rocking each other like babies.  Hearing the waves, seeing the moon glow off the water.  Up until that moment I'd never in my life considered suicide as an alternative to anything.  But then – and there, I knew how low a human could go.  I knew how deep the hurt could reach into your breath and choke the life from you.  All I could rationally think was that he was gone, and I wanted to be with him.  Nin knew it too.  I didn't want to be left alone to endure this life without him.  Neither of us did.

We held each other tighter – as if we were afraid the other would slip away if we let go.  We very well might have slipped away had we let go.  We gripped each other until we passed out, holding and rocking each other on that balcony all night.  We woke sometime the next day on that balcony, covered in the other's tears. No more wedding; no more birthday party.  No more plans or futures for all of us together.  It was too much to feel at once. Another entire day and night, we never left that place except to go to the ocean and back.  We yelled.  We cried like inconsolable children.  We loved and hated, and embraced.  We raged and screamed – until we had no tears left in either one of us.  Our voices gone hoarse; our eyes sunken hollow.

We loved and we hurt.  We tried to bury our hurt beneath our love.  It would be the last time we'd hold each other like that.  Tragic pain can strangle even the deepest love, until it's all you see and think of.  We became a constant reminder to each other of all we'd lost – and all that would never be.  A trauma and tragedy so overpowering that it even physically effects the human body.  Our love growing inside her body would never survive the trauma of that week.  One more soul gone.  One more unfulfilled dream snuffed from our lives; stolen away from us again.