Art by Arisha (@sitaradoodles)
“Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, can you?”
“Yep.”
We said those mundane statements
All the time.
Never really put any thought into it
After all, it was just clarification
If we could see and hear.
Right?
But that day was different.
I woke up with northern downpour in my head
The lyrics were always beautiful
Heart-wrenchingly so
But that day I finally understood what
“I missed your skin” meant
I missed your skin.
So much.
We hadn’t seen each other in a while
All I had for company were my books.
A couple of dates too, but not with you.
Only the kind that you could break your fast with.
You always said I never shared my love with you
I always held back.
Today I didn’t want to
You weren’t paying attention,
Rambling about something I can’t remember
But I can still hear how my heart pounded
Like it held back the oceans with every beat.
The video quality was shitty
Foreshadowing, maybe?
But I still saw your outline
And for my body, my heart, my soul,
Deprived of your touch, how false it may have been,
That was enough.
“Hey I wanted to tell you something.”
“Haan, what’s up?”
“I miss your skin.”
[I smile nervously because I feel like I’m about to throw up]
You laugh, unsure of what I meant
I feel the voice, the one that tells me how ugly I am,
How worthless,
How unworthy your time.
Tell me to shut up.
To stop talking
To cover it up.
Maybe I should have listened.
I lock that voice away and smile a bit more.
I start rambling
It makes no sense
THROAM,
Brendon.
Chelsea Hotel.
Room 708.
Ryan.
Love.
Pain.
Hurt.
Love?
You’re still so confused, but I hope you get it
I was right in a way.
You did get it.
You heard that they were gay and you shut down
It wasn’t enough.
My love for you was tainted
Because I said something that
Two
gay
Fictional
Characters
Had said.
Something that I meant.
Because I missed your gasps,
Your touch,
Your hands running over me
Your breathy kisses
I missed the intimacy
I missed your skin.
But that didn’t matter.
It was the gay man that you focused on
And the gay man you cared about.
I tried again a month later,
This time hiding my love behind asterisks
Because the voice told me that you didn’t understand
Shouting it from the rooftops made no difference
But maybe a secret smile
A soft stolen kiss
A place, a word, a phrase that only we know
Four letters
****.
Maybe you’d get it.
Again, wishful thinking.
The voice was right.
You scoffed and raged
It was my fault again.
Always my fault
Don’t forget
Whose fault was it?
Mine.
Who was responsible?
Me.
I should have been clearer
We weren’t lovers that hid.
I was to scream it from the rooftops
But when I did, i was indulged
Then politely rejected.
You were allowed to hide though.
I wasn’t worthy of it.
I had to “prove” myself.
I tried
I tried
I tried so hard.
But it wasn’t enough.
I missed your skin.
I missed your touch.
I look back,
Nearly a year later,
And a lot has changed
For the worse
But at least I can say,
I don’t miss you at all.
this is so beautiful and open. i read it under this white moonlight while listening to patrick watson and ended up in tears. thank you so much for sharing this. reading this i felt brave and vulnerable. two things that i think are hard to go along but your piece made it possible for me.