Lost

Here are the important things that you need to know. They had known each other forever. Since second grade, played together, bathed together, went to school together, they were constantly present in each other’s house. She was his family’s adopted little girl. He was her families adopted black son. They watched each other’s bodies change, played doctor when it was age appropriate, they gave each other dating advice, they celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, together as friends. When one lost their virginity they immediately called the other to brag or complain. They had been present for many of the others successes and failures in their pursuits: him as a Radio DJ and her as a photographer. They had seen and even helped to shape each other’s dreams for the future.
Here is what they don’t talk about…
Him and her sitting on the couch together, him leaning back and relaxing and her leaning forward back curved as she stared straight into the TV fascinated with the film they were watching. They had been drinking, smoking, laughing, but none of that can be held as an excuse for what happened. He knew full well and good what he was doing. And when she turned to ask him to light her cigarette or to pass the bowl or to get a drink or whatever she was doing. He was there and he kissed her. He knew her well enough that he knew where her lips would be and he caught them. She didn’t recoil, she didn’t gasp, her body slipped into a natural comfort that he had not ever seen. In that moment they both explored the things that they had never known about each other. But it was just a moment and as suddenly as he had taken her into his arms he sent her back out. He leaned back smiling but nervous. Her body returned to its natural posture and they felt the silence waft around the room, the memory of their kiss sill floating above their heads like a friendly ghost.
(Silence)
When the silence was too much to bear he asked her to pass his drink. She did and asked him for a light and he accommodated. That night they talked about video games, and TV shows and what famous people they would fuck. But they would never talk about what had happened. Not that night or the next or ever.
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They wouldn’t face each other.
Not because they couldn’t look into each other’s eyes but because they weren’t ready yet and when they were they would know. Until then they lay facing away their backs together, the curve of her ass against the small of his back. He could feel her deep breathes that pushed against his body like waves and she could feel his shallow pants that could have rocked her to sleep.
Neither of them spoke. Not because they had nothing to say; that had never been a problem for them they could both speak at lengths on any subject and both adored hearing the others opinions on anything. But tonight was different. Because tonight was the last night before she left. She had finally gotten the break she had been looking for a small time job at a big time magazine and she was heading out. They had known for a while and decided it best to ignore the future and live in the now. But now the future was only hours away definite and immediate. It was ever present and heavy in the air. To him it felt as if they were waiting for some beast to beat down the door, tear it to pieces and drag her away. But she wasn’t being dragged she was going and she was happy. And he was happy for her he supposed.
She was excited. She looked forward to working under some of the best in her field and learning from them. She had always had talent and felt this was her chance to blossom fully as an artist. But she would miss him and it was affecting her. She would be walking and taking photos of the world around, trying to catch beauty with a box and a button. And suddenly she would feel an intense sadness come over her. A feeling of longing and emptiness that would cause her whole body to tense in her back and shoulders and hands. Tears would form in her eyes and while she did not weep, the tears that fell were bloated and heavier than most and stained the sidewalk when they landed.
He had not cried. And he would not cry until she was gone. It was a promise he had made to himself when she first mentioned she was leaving and so far he was keeping it.
He was the first to speak. He turned to her and asked if she wanted to smoke a bowl and she smiled and said yes. While he packed the green, they talked about old things. The past, things they had done or said, old jokes that had made them laugh, people they had loved or who had flaked out on them. And then she said. It’s going to feel different having to get used to you talking on the phone. And he said that talking on the phone isn’t as bad as she made it out to be. But as he said the words he thought of the things a phone could not provide, he wouldn’t be able to see her when she spoke, wouldn’t be able to watch her lips move to form the words or watch her hands as she played with her hair. Small things he enjoyed about her as a person he wouldn’t be able to see and his heart sank. She saw him retreat inwards and lured him back out with the first hit. They smoked and coughed and laughed. After the final hit she fell back and stretched out, her back curved up off of the bed her legs straightened out and her whole body tensed and it reminded him of the poses the girls make on magazine covers. Her feet were near his lap. Pressing and poking against his knees the way cats kneed at new couches with their paws. He hated feet but before he could think hers were in his hand and he was rubbing his fingers over them. She enjoyed the rubdown as it happened, as did he. His hatred of feet hadn’t left and it wasn’t that he thought hers were different, he simply didn’t mind. When it was over she smiled and said thank you and he was silent. The hours ticked by and they were together and happy. But finally she could not take it. She loved him but resented his inability to talk about what was on his mind. So she sat up and looked at him. His eyes were heavy and she could tell he was sad. He didn’t know it but his extremes of happy and sad were so different that when experiencing them he looked like two completely different people and she knew them both well. She broached the subject carefully, running her fingers down his back to bring a simple smile to his face before she asked.
“Are we ever going to talk about what happened?” She asked. Under her fingers she could feel his spine straighten. “We don’t have to she said, I just want to know if we’re going to talk about it?”
Her words had surprised him but in the way that Christmas surprises us, how we wait for it for what feels like forever but when it finally comes the relief is astounding.
She watched and he was silent for a moment. He was thinking. She thought he was thinking about whether or not to talk about it. He thought she was wishing that he didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to ruin the night.
She was actually thinking about the nights she spent alone unable to sleep wishing only for the quick pants of someone breathing next to her to rock her to sleep.
He was thinking about all of the times he had been angry and was left wanting nothing more than soft fingers down his back to bring a smile to his face. He thought of all of the things he wished that he had said the night he had kissed her. And they flooded his mind so quickly the words jammed together and created nonsense.
She watched him as he struggled to put his words together, but nothing ever left his mouth. Finally he let out a sigh and simply smiled.
Before they knew it the sun was shining through the window and it was time for her to go. When she left he held her and he held her long. She cried her tears were silent but she left stains on his shirt. When he held her he didn’t let her go until he felt her finally pull away.
They didn’t say goodbye, instead they said see you soon. And though she was ready to leave her feet didn’t move towards the door until the cabdriver slammed his heavy fists on the horn of the car.
She turned to leave and he said that he would miss her. She knew he was crying inside his body nearly shaking holding it in. She leaned in one last time and kissed him on the neck. He kissed her back and they both felt what they felt at the same time. But she still turned and got into that cab and went to her small time job at a big time magazine. And he still closed the door to his place and cried like a baby.
And they would talk and stay close. And they were successful and happy. And she explored the world and he got married. And sooner rather than later that night was lost to many other nights in their pasts. But not lost. For sometimes when she sat looking over her newest photos or smoking alone her mind would turn to that night she turned to ask him a question she couldn’t remember and was surprised by him. And she remembered how the stresses she kept in her had melted away. And even though he had a wife and kids and was successful and happy. Sometimes when he was alone driving to and from work. He would think about how she tasted, and how soft her skin was under his hand, and how strong he felt in that moment. When for the first and only time they both knew what it felt like to be home.