and we are taking inventory of my scars, “was this you?” “where?” “here, on my elbow” “I don’t think so…”
“what about this one?” “on your thigh?” “yes”, you giggle, “probably”
you point at your own elbow, “don’t worry this wasn’t you.” I smile and sit on your lap, feeling sorry for the chair, it’s almost a hundred years old and i think it is worthy of some kind of reverence and should be spared from this. it’s 2pm, and you showed up unannounced, I like it. an hour later and you are holding me over your sweaty, bare body, “we are friends, aren’t we?” i agree, it makes me sad, you see it before i do and even though we are both late for our respective meetings you won’t leave my bed until i agree to think about how i feel and report back to you later.
I told you that i could only ever see you as a friend, this was true at the time, and mutual. we laughed about it. Called each other “best-friend”, and had the strangest conversations while making love, danced naked at 3am and laughed about our exes and all the strange things that i believe in. On Friday night we go to the grave-yard at midnight, you stroll in casually while i dig my nails into your arm, finally, i turn around screaming and run out, you aren’t impressed. “i just don’t feel like talking.” I don’t believe you but I don’t think it is my place to ask so we walk back to my room so I can study, as soon as we reach the door you say, “no, lets go lie on the field”.
i am straddling you by the path while you tell me all your reasons for wanting to stay alive, they include Game of Thrones, Naruto, Mad Men, Basketball… We estimate that gives you 5 more years, I laugh and tell you what i came up with “we are cool, this is cool.” you don’t seem so impressed with my answer but follow it up with, “yeah, that’s how i feel too.” 2 hours later and we are still lying on the field, we are talking Greek mythology, Midas, and Achilles, Athena and Aphrodite, my body is balanced perfectly on top of yours and you start singing our song, Swallowed in the sea. Coldplay. You pause to kiss me and grow frustrated when you realise my eyes are open the whole time. you don’t look me in the eye the whole time we are talking, you are staring at the sky, at my arm, you turn the other way, you bury your face in my scarf…
Tonight our conversation has a different kind of depth. I like it. and at my doorway when you take me back home, we can’t stop kissing each other. Something you said to me earlier that night “you are so cute and irrational, you can hate someone so much and then love them to death the next day.” I try to justify it and you say (and this surprises me) “I am sure you hate me sometimes, i wish you would express it though, that would be interesting.” i feel stupid because I had tried so hard to seem sane the past few days, I was “cool” and nonchalant but you can see my crazy peeking through when i talk about the spirit world and Alex. Last night I tell you I can’t do it anymore, here’s why; when i walk into the club that night your ex-girlfriend and i bump into each other, we say quiet hellos and I feel guilty. I miss you. I think you miss me too, i see you reading our messages at 3am online on Friday night when i leave. You tell me to take my time and all the space I need and are the perfect gentleman through out. I don’t feel crazy around you.
I don’t know if i did the right thing, I can’t say. But I did do the brave thing, I did the thing that will hurt less in the long run. Only time will tell.