Down the drain

The water cascaded down his face,  pouring through his hair,  trickling past eyes,  waterfalling off his nose and getting lost with the rest of the water falling to the floor.  For a moment,  he let the water flow through his mouth washing him clean.  The water was hot enough to create some steam, giving him the feeling that he was floating in the clouds.  He so wanted to get lost right now.
The shower poured down on him, but he would never be washed clean of his guilt. Some things haunt you forever. All his life, he had lived to the fullest, enjoying every minute, having no regrets. Until he met her. She changed everything. Every rule broken, every taboo revealed. Within such a short time, he knew her inside and out, like she was a part of him. He had never intended to let anyone in, but before he knew it age has taken up residence in his soul. A part of him.
He watched the water run down his arms, the water distorting the tattoos slightly. He wondered, briefly, if his love for tattoos were in some way his repentance for how he had behaved. Even distorted he could make out the skeleton key and lock. His heart on his sleeve. Such an apt metaphor.
He sighed deeply, the water was never going to wash away his guilt. The guilt of leaving, the guilt of loving, the guilt of longing, it ate his soul, drove him mad with desire, and never went away. Maybe that was why he was the way he was, messed up in the head, maybe it was all someone else's fault.
He smiled wryly, if only that were true. But he couldn't blame anyone other than himself for the choices he has made. Right or wrong, it was a choice. And he stood by it. Even when the longing drove him mad.
He turned off the water, it was doing no good anymore, he would never get the filth from inside out of him. He was cursed in that regards, damaged goods. The water flowed down his skin to the floor, and he just stood there watching it all drain away.
For some reason, he felt there should be some moral here, some heart wrenching decision, something. Maybe someone would burst into the bathroom and attack him. Nothing. The water was gone and he was empty again. But that was just the way life was.