A gay story: Loss to Love Ch. 09
I squinted as I opened my eyes, the light coming in from the window blinding me. I rolled over, turning away from the window, coming face to face with Nick. I yawned once, rubbing my eyes. I observed Nick in his blissful sleep, the look of pure peace on his face something I could not help but smile at. Last night was just amazing, the high of it all and the feel of cuddling with Nick after, both so different from each other, yet combined to formed one of the most incredible experiences of my life.
I brought my hand up, pushing away a strand of hair that fell onto his face. My finger lightly grazed against his forehead, making Nick shift slightly in his sleep, but otherwise kept his eyes shut. “Morning.” Nick mumbled, just barely decipherable.
“Morning. I didn’t mean to wake you.” I apologized.
“I need to get ready for the wedding.” Nick slurred, again his mumbled speech almost totally garbled, me just barely being able to make out his words. However, making out what he said was one thing, but he wasn’t even making sense. What wedding?
“Nick what are you…” I was cut off halfway when Nick continued, seemingly oblivious to my words.
“Yeah I’ll meet you there.” He mumbled, not moving a single muscle. It then hit me, the slurred sentences and weird contexts. Nick was sleep talking. I chuckled as Nick made some weird hums. This was something I didn’t know and I just added that to the list of things that made Nick so cute. “I love you Drew.”
At those words, all sense of humor left me. Those words were as clear as day, no way that I could have misheard them. Nick just said he loved me. Yeah sure it was in a dream but weren’t dreams part of your subconscious.
I have made it no secret, especially to Dean about my disdain for couples who use the word ‘love’ so lightly. It was a firm belief of mine that love was more than any teen crush, more than some cute relationship you shared with your partner. Love was so much more than that. Love was not needing anything other than each other, how when you’re apart you don’t feel complete. Love was giving a part of yourself to someone and taking in a part of them.
I thought about all this. Did I love Nick? The answer was a simple and resounding, yes, more than I have ever felt about anyone. It scared me to know that I could so confidently say it, that it needed no second thought.
What did this mean though? Could I afford loving Nick? I thought about all the people in this world that I could honestly say I loved, my mom, Dean and my dad, before he went all cold shoulder. Of all these people, there was one thing in common with them all, and that similarity terrified me.
All of them left me. My mom died, best friend moved away and dad pretended I didn’t exist. Everyone I ever loved always somehow left me.
I looked to Nick wondering if he would fall into the same mould. My worst fear would be that he would die on me, gone from the world like my mother. I don’t think I would be able to bounce back from it like I did the last time. Imagining a world where Nick was no longer a part of filled me with insane amounts of dread. I wouldn’t be able to take it if that happened; I would give up on life. And the worst part was, I know the feeling would only build the longer I stayed with Nick.
Fear overrode every other emotion. I wouldn’t, couldn’t let that happen. I got out of bed, grabbing my stuff and putting on my clothes. I looked back at Nick, still sound asleep in his bed. I hated leaving when Nick was still asleep, waking up to find that I wasn’t there, but I knew I had to do this. I shook my head, exiting his room and making my way home.
I kept telling myself it was for the best, thinking about all the ways that splitting up with Nick was going to benefit me. I knew otherwise though. I was happy with Nick and being away from him would be more difficult than staying, but I was scared. Scared that I’d have to say goodbye to Nick.
I got into my room, crashing down onto the bed. The same question raced through my mind, over and over like a broken record. Could I break up with Nick, before I got too emotionally attached? Before I lost him.
I was torn, conflicted between happiness and fear.
Then there was my father, the only family I had left. I didn’t want to leave my relationship with him broken as it was. I wanted to mend it but the only way to do that was to give up being gay. Pretend to be someone I’m not. Straight. The two sides of me fought within my head, thinking about reasons to justify my action, whether to break up or not.
My heart told me to fuck it all and stay with Nick, telling me to not to be pessimistic about our future. Everyone had to go at some point and if Nick does, I had to take it as another stepping stone in life. My brain however couldn’t fathom carrying on if Nick wasn’t alive, after I’ve given him a part of me, which I knew would happen if I stayed. I lay in bed for close to an hour, waging an internal war with my emotions, before a text stirred me from my thoughts.
“Hey where did you go? Woke up and you were gone.” Nick’s text read.
I started to type a reply. ‘Nick, I think it’s best if we took a break from each other.’ I looked back at the message I wrote, hovering my finger over the send button, unsure if I had it in me to push send. I sighed, moving my finger to the backspace, deleting the message I wrote. ‘Yeah I needed to go back home. I’ll see you later today? Maybe we could go grab some lunch.’ I read over the new text, still unsure of how I was going to continue with this and once again I deleted the message.
“Sorry. I needed to go somewhere.” I replied, sending the neutral response.
“Oh sure. So you wanna grab some lunch later?” Nick replied.
“No man, I’m sorry. I can’t make it tomorrow either. I’ll see you on Monday?” I replied, giving myself ample time and space away from Nick to sort out my feelings.
“Oh. Okay then. See ya then, I’ll miss you.” I could tell by his text that he was disappointed. I wanted to reply with an ‘I’ll miss you too’ but decided against it. If I were to break up with Nick, I shouldn’t be raising his hopes any higher.
I dropped my phone onto my bed, covering my eyes with my hand. How was I going to do this? I lay in bed the entire day, forgoing lunch. I had too much on my mind to be hungry. I took a shower and one point, the warm cascade of water felt good on my skin but did nothing for my aching heart, except making me realize how fucked up having emotions were.
By the time evening came round I was no closer to a decision. A knock on my door reverberated through my silent room, making me realize how quiet the day had been for me. “Drew, there’s Chinese takeout in the kitchen.” My dad said. I was surprised, not him buying food for me but telling me that there was some in the kitchen. Usually whenever he bought me anything, I would stumble into the kitchen and realize it for myself. Never would he have told me personally, anything to prevent him from speaking a word to me.
I didn’t need to reply, hearing his footsteps trudge down the stairs. I felt my stomach growl, the hunger finally catching up with the lack of food. I pulled myself out of bed and slowly made my way downstairs.