Tom sat alone feeling shit as usual, thinking about her, what he used to do with her, where he'd be now if she was here. Tom hated crying it made him feel weak, the truth was that Tom was dying every minute he was without her, he felt like a different man when she was with him, he was complete. Without her he felt like the words were there but the music wasn't, like in a song.

When Tom and Claire both fought Tom felt humiliated and laughed at, she always thought he didn't understand the same things as her. But he did and he knew he did. He loved writing music and wanted to make it big in the whole rock star career with his band. Claire thought he was dreamer and that it would never work, she was the one who had to go out and work while he spend all day at home writing songs as he called it.

Claire didn't think it was fair. She wanted to work in fashion and design clothes, shoes whatever. But it didn't work out, it never did, to her, life was about money and if you didn't have it you were nothing. Her mother brought her up like that. On a rough estate in London, life was hard then, since her father left when she was very young. Claire learnt to look after her self and her younger brothers and sisters when her mum went to work until Claire starting working herself in a local supermarket.

Tom didn't know anything about problems with money, he never had a problem with it. His mother and father were middle class and settled down in London. He met Claire at school along with his band members Tim and Richard. The two lovers were now living together and that changed them a lot.

Toms flat crowded him, the small walls and lack of space covered over him from the cruel, cold world and of course her. He wasn't going to let her do this to him again, she always left, they always fought and he always ended up crying, alone. He wanted her to come back though, just to hold him, comfort him into a long night of love. He was tired too. Sleep was the only place he could be without pain that's why he slept so much. He slowly drifted off, lowering his damp cheek on the cushion, closing his eyes into darkness.

..Knock, knock, knock, the sound echoed as it startled Tom out of his dark, deluded dream world. He sat up and then walked straight to the door thinking it would be her. He opened it slowly. He noticed her hair first blowing in the breeze, he opened the door fully, looking at her face and he looked away. He really did love her, more than he should. He wouldn't let her humiliate him again, he wouldn't.

'Tom. I'm sorry' she said as she walked right up to him shutting the door behind her.

'Claire...' That was all Tom could get in as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him strongly.

Tom couldn't handle this again, he couldn't. But he loved her so much that he completely let go, again. He fell into her arms longing for her smell back on his skin and her hair falling on his face. She took her coat off and hung it up, holding Tom's hand, leading him up the stairs, into the bedroom. The walk up the stairs seemed to take longer than usual for him, the white light from the lampshade shone in his eyes.

When they reached the landing, Tom decided to give up he knew he loved her and needed her more than anything tonight. He walked forward she walked towards him, cupping her hands over her face as she kissed him lightly then into a stronger kiss. Tom went back on to the bed as she laid on his chest looking in to his eyes, playing with his hair.

Two hours went by, they were in bed, Claire was curled up in a ball next to Tom and Tom with his arm around her was sat up in darkness. Wearing nothing but the duvet Tom tuck his arm away from Claire and placed it down. Claire turned around and went into a deep sleep.

Tom couldn't understand it, he'd let her do this to him again, how did she get him up those stairs and through that blinding white light on the landing. Tom didn't understand it but really he knew why because that's the way it had always been, it was 'love'. But how was it love, trying not to resist someone because you know they will hurt you so. It wasn't love, it couldn't be. Tom queried his question, staring at the blind swishing back and forth in the wind. He shivered with cold, got up slowly and walked over to the window and shut it.