I can still remember Craig Dean so clearly. If I close my eyes I can picture every inch of him as if I had only seen him yesterday.
I can recall the rich brown of his eyes, glistening like pools of melted chocolate, framed by ridiculously long lashes that would fan out on his cheeks as he slept. I can see the fullness of his soft pink lips, curving into a gentle smile, waiting to be kissed, and that tiny mole resting above, like a drop of chocolate spilled from his eyes, begging to be tasted.
And as easily as I can recall how he looked and I can remember his voice. I can still hear the way it sounded when he spoke my name or told me that he loved me or cried out in passion as we held each other close.
I can remember Craig Dean with perfect recollection as if I had only seen him yesterday and not 5 years ago.
Five years ago when I left him behind at the airport. Five years ago when I broke his heart, and my own, by walking away. Five years ago, the last time we spoke, the last time we were ever in contact, the last time that I had ever heard from him... until today.
He had sent the letter to my old address in Hollyoaks and thankfully my mum still lives there with Michaela so the envelope was in my hands within a few days.
I recognised his handwriting instantly, I had seen it to often as we studied together, or pretended to study together.
I held the envelope in my hands for some time, turning it over and over and wondering what he could have to say after all this time, wondering what had prompted him to get in touch again and wondering if I was prepared to open myself up to him once more. Whether I could face having him back in my life or more to the point whether I could bear to refuse.
Of course I finally gave in and tore at the paper that was hiding Craig's words from me, the first words he had wanted to say to me in so long and my eyes poured over the single sheet of folded paper devouring every syllable.
"Dear John Paul
I imagine you're pretty surprise to hear from me after all this time but I've been thinking about you a lot recently. Actually that's not strictly true, if I'm honest I never really stopped thinking about you.
I have to admit I tried to hate you for the longest time, for leaving me to go to Dublin on my own, for not being there when I missed you, for not changing your mind and following me. I found it easy to blame you whenever anything went wrong in my life but in the end I had to admit that what you did – or rather what you didn't do – was probably for the best.
I did try to be the man that you wanted but in the end I guess I just wasn't ready. At the time I thought you were being stupid and childish walking away because I refused to kiss you – but that wasn't what you were really asking me to do was it? I now know that you were asking me to accept you – to accept us – and I will always regret not being able to do that.
So why am I getting in touch with you now? To tell the truth I don't really know, except that I miss you… I miss my best friend and I kind of hope that he still misses me. I've never met anyone before or since that understood me the way you did, that I could laugh with or cry with and know that I wouldn't be judged. I've never known anyone else who could make me feel happy just by walking into the room.
I'm not asking for us to be what we were, for all I know you've met someone new and you're happy, I've always hoped that you were happy, but if there was any chance that we could find the friendship again that we once had then I would consider myself blessed.
I'm living in Manchester now and I hope that you haven't moved too far away… my phone number is at the top of the page so if you want to give me a call some time I really would be happy to hear from you and maybe we could meet up for a drink.
Love
Craig
x"
I read the letter through a dozen times, always pausing at the end "love Craig x" and running my thumb over the impression of the writing on the paper.
As much as I had missed him as a lover over the last five years his friendship was the hardest thing to be without and it didn't take long for me to pick up my phone and dial the unfamiliar number, waiting with trembling hands as the line connected and the phone began to ring.
As I held the phone in my hand and listened to it ringing I noticed that I was trembling. I suddenly panicked as I realised that I hadn't taken any time to think about what I was going to say to you and I was about to hit the cancel button when the ringing ended and the call connected.
After five years I was linked to Craig again over a telephone line. After five years I heard his voice again and this time it wasn't just a memory inside my head.
"Hello?"
I smiled at the sound. The timbre of his tone was as rich and warming as I remembered and I sank into my armchair as his voice touched me.
"Hello?" He repeated, sounding a little annoyed, and I realised that I hadn't spoken.
"Craig?"
There was a pause before he spoke again. "John Paul? John Paul is that you?"
The sound of my name being spoken in his voice again took my breath away and I was glad that I was sitting down, as all the strength seemed to drain from my body.
"Yeah," I replied shakily, "Yeah it's me… I got your letter..."
"I'm glad," Craig said, "I wasn't sure… I wasn't sure you'd call… I'm glad you did."
I didn't tell him that I didn't even have to stop and think about calling him, that the thought of speaking to him again was too intoxicating to resist or that even now, after a few short words, I already feel everything for him that I ever did.
"So how's things? How've you been? How's everything" Craig sounded as nervous as I felt and I took some comfort in that.
"Everything?" I asked with a laugh, "You don't want to know much then?"
"Well it's been a long time... there's a lot to catch up with!"
I chewed thoughtfully on my lip. I didn't know what to say, we'd been best friends, we'd been lovers but we'd also been apart for years and people change, I didn't know how much he might have changed.
"You mentioned... in your letter..." I stammered.
"What?"
"You said… maybe we could meet… for a drink…"
"Yeah... yeah, what about tomorrow?" Craig asked.
"Tomorrow?" I didn't expect it to be so soon, I wasn't prepared, I couldn't meet him tomorrow, I needed time to think, to prepare.
"It's too short notice isn't it," Craig said sadly, "Another time then... we can do it another time..."
"No... no... tomorrow is fine..." But mostly I need to see him.
He names a bar in Manchester that I've never heard of and promises to text me the address when we've finished talking. And just like that I have arranged to meet with Craig Dean again. As simple as one phone call and my life suddenly feels like it's spinning on its head and my heart is filled with butterflies. I feel terrified and excited and, as we exchange a few more words and end our call, I stop to wonder if he's the same Craig that I knew, am I the same John Paul?
Meeting Craig Dean changed my life and I had told him as much the day I walked away from him. I discovered so much about myself in the time I knew him. I learned how good I could be at hiding my true feelings, how deeply I could feel love in the arms of the right person, how deceitful and devious I could be to keep him and how strong I could be to walk away and break both our hearts when I knew it wasn't going to work.
I'd thought about Craig a lot in the last five years. Wondered where he was, what he was doing and yes, if I'm being honest, who he was with, who he was loving. I could never decide if I preferred the thought of him with another man or with a woman. He had always said it was only me, the only man he could love was me, but times change, people change and in five years anything could happen.
I stand up and walk over to the mirror. How much have I changed in five years? My hair is longer now and I've long since abandoned the gel. My eyes seem to have that sparkle in them again; I don't think it's been there since the last time I saw him. Why now Craig, I wonder to myself, why contact me now.
In less than 24 hours I guess I will have the answer.
---
I don't think that I have ever taken as long to get ready for a night out. I kept on reminding myself that I was just meeting an old friend, nothing more than that. Yet somehow I still managed to iron every decent shirt that I owned before settling on the midnight blue one.
Fastening the buttons I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. How could he resist? Shaking my head I laughed at the thought, that's not what this evening is about, I have to remember that. I can't just assume. It's been five years, we have to get to know each other again and we might not like what we find.
The taxi ride to Manchester wasn't long enough to gather my thoughts and all to soon I'd stepped through the doorway of an unfamiliar bar ready, or rather totally unready, to meet Craig again. It only took a quick sweep of the room before my eyes landed on him. He was stood leaning on the bar with his back to me but I knew it was him instantly.
Panic gripped at my chest and I felt totally unable to move. What was I doing there anyway? Wasn't everything between us dead and buried long ago? Could raking up the past really do either of us any good?
I had just about made my mind up to leave when he turned around. Just like all those years ago he seemed to instinctively know I was there, and just like all those years ago the feel of his deep brown eyes on me reduced my legs to jelly.
Trying to keep my cool I walked over to him slowly, taking in every inch of his face as I approached. So little about him had changed that I almost felt I was walking back in time.
"John Paul." The sound of my name was so much richer on his lips than it had been over the telephone and it seemed to touch my skin.
"Craig," I replied hoping that my voice wasn't shaking as much as the rest of me was. I wasn't sure what to do so I held out my hand to him.
He looked at my hand with a smile before taking it and then Craig pulled me towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around me, an action I mirrored as I held him close not certain that I would be willing to ever let go again.
Eventually, and all too soon, his arms fell from me and he stepped back as he took a hold of my shoulders.
"It's so great to see you," Craig said with a wide smile, "You've hardly changed a bit."
"Or you," I replied, "You still look great."
I'm sure he flushed a little at my words but then he never had been very good at taking a compliment, no matter how well deserved it was.
We stood in silence observing each other for a while until a cough brought me out of my reverie.
Looking over I saw the barman watching us with raised eyebrows.
"Oh yeah, right," I stammered, "Drink?"
Craig indicated that he already had one so I ordered a bottle of lager and was glad of the distraction from looking at him so that I could gather my thoughts.
"Shall we go and sit down?" Craig asked after I had been served and nodding I following him to a table at the side of the room.
For the first hour our conversation was stilted and awkward, it was as if we were strangers meeting for the first time and I felt a discomfort I had never known around Craig before.
As our talk drifted to our families and friends that we had in common I felt myself start to relax but I still had to force myself not to look to long into those pools of melted chocolate that were Craig's eyes.
"Have you seen much of Hannah these days?" Craig asked taking a drink from his bottle.
"Not so much," I replied sadly, "We kind of lost touch after… you know after everything that happened."
"I still can't believe what she was going through and none of us noticed," Craig said shaking her head.
"I know," I answered remembering how close we came to losing her completely, "I guess we were all too wrapped up in our own lives to pay any attention to what she was feeling."
"Thank god her family realised before it was too late."
"Yeah…"
There was a silence again. When had talking to Craig been so difficult? I was beginning to regret agreeing to meet him, it seemed that what we had, even the friendship was something in the past, something we couldn't recapture.
"I'm glad you wanted to see me," Craig said suddenly.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't know… the way we left things back then… I wasn't sure… but I meant it you know… about missing your friendship…"
I smiled I was desperate to ask if it was only my friendship he missed but I couldn't make myself do it.
"Me too," I replied instead.
"D'you think…"
"What?"
"That we could get it back?"
"Our friendship?"
"Yeah, I still miss hanging out with you… having a laugh… I know it's been a while but…"
"I miss it too," I reply. I miss you I want to say, I want to take hold of the hand that is resting on the table. I want to pull him into my arms and kiss him and make him promise he'll never leave me again.
For a while I had almost convinced myself that I had gotten over Craig Dean. I could hear his name without wincing in pain and I could see his picture without being reduced to tears. But all it took was to be near him again to know that it had only been a charade, a front I had used to protect myself from his absence. Some people come into your life and change it beyond recognition. Craig Dean was one of those people and my life was changed because of him.
Craig was smiling at my answer and he seemed content at the promise of a renewed friendship.
"Craig?" I have to know, I have to know if that is all he wants from me.
"Hmm?"
"Why now?"
"What?"
"Why write to me now? Why did you get in touch now?"
"I… I missed you… I missed my friend." He words seemed unconvincing and they stumbled from his tongue.
"More than you did last month? Last year?" I had the feeling I was pushing him but I couldn't stop. I wanted to make him say that he still loved me and I wanted to make him say that he still wanted me.
"No… it's just… sometimes… sometimes you stop and realise what's important… Things happen to make you realise who's important… I didn't want to leave it another five years, or ten, or till it was too late to be able to find you."
"So what happened?"
"What?"
"You said things happen… what happened?"
As soon as I ask the question he can't look at me. His attention is suddenly focused on peeling the label from his bottle.
"I'm getting married... and I wanted my best friend by my side." His words came out in a whisper but the force of them collided with me like a steam train.
I want to scream at him that he can't be getting married, that he's mine and I won't allow it. But I don't have any claims on him anymore and I have to accept that he's moved on. I still feel confused as I fight for breath, I had felt so certain that his letter had hinted at wanting to get back more than our friendship but I guess that was just Craig being his usual ambiguous self, never quite saying what he means or meaning what he says.
"Congratulations," I lied forcing a smile to my lips.
Craig looks up and seems relieved at my reaction.
"She's really lovely," he enthuses, "You'd like her."
"I'm sure," I agree. I'm sure that I'd hate everything about her.
"You'll have to come around for dinner sometime, she really wants to meet you."
"I'd love to." I'd love nothing more than to never set eyes on her in my life.
As his words sink into my brain I start to frown. "She wants to meet me?" I ask, "So you've told her about me then?"
"Of course," Craig says his eyes shining brightly, "Samantha's gonna be my wife, I've told her everything."
"Everything?"
"Yeah," Craig asserts, "Everything."
"And she's OK with…"
"We were a long time ago… she understands that."
"Yeah, right… good."
I can't believe how quickly all of my hopes and dreams have been crushed. I feel like I'm 17 years old again watching Craig in the arms of Sarah and pretending that it isn't breaking my heart.
"I'm really glad you're OK with this," Craig says smiling at me. Can he really not see the pain in my eyes? I guess I've learned to hide it well over the years without him.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I ask forcing a laugh, "Like you said… we were ages ago… but mates now yeah?"
"Best mates," he says holding out his hand to me. And I take it, what else can I do? I shake his hand on our friendship and try to bury the screams of frustration that echo in my head.
I look at my watch. "I'd better be making tracks," I say trying to sound regretful.
"Already?" He asks. I know I've only been there a couple of hours but I can't stay any longer. I can't play at being happy for him when it's tearing my insides apart. I need time to adjust and put my mask back in place.
"Yeah, gotta be up for work tomorrow." The lie came easily and he didn't seem to question it as I rose to my feet.
There is a taxi rank down the road from the bar and it only takes a minute for us to get to it. We separate and head for different cars.
"Craig?" I want to shout that I love him, that I can't do this again. I want to beg him to come back with me and make love to me and never leave my side.
"Yeah?" He pauses with his hand on the cars door handle.
"It's been good to see you again." It was only half a lie. It HAD been good to see him but it had also been terrible to see him.
"You too," he said opening the car door and getting inside, "I'll call you soon."
"OK, bye." I get into my own cab and slump back against the seat. Craig might call but I wasn't sure I would answer. I'd played the part of faithful friend before, watching the man I loved in the arms of someone else, I wasn't sure I could do it again. I don't think I want to do it again.
"Bye Craig," I whisper to myself as the car pulls away, and I feel the parting as sharply as I had done that day at the airport as the only love I have ever know is taken even further away from me.
---
"John Paul for fuck sake what's going on?" Craig's voice sounded annoyed, just as it had in the last few voicemails he'd left on my mobile. "I thought you were OK with everything… obviously not… but you could at least call me back… send a text… Christ I must have left a hundred messages by now… at least let me know you're not lying dead in a ditch somewhere OK!"
He was exaggerating, but only slightly. He hadn't left me hundreds of messages but it had certainly been dozens. They started off lightly with him saying how good it had been to see me again and with each message he got more and more concerned that he only ever got my answer phone. It didn't take long for Craig to realise I was avoiding him and it was obvious he had guessed why.
I keyed in a text to him asking him to leave me alone but discarded it without sending. I couldn't even face that brief a contact with him. Better to let him stay angry with me, that way he would give up and I could go back to the life I had before he contacted me. A life where Craig Dean was a distant memory that I could pretend didn't still hurt.
Looking in the mirror I can see that the brightness has gone from my eyes again. I wish I'd never got that letter, never let my defences down again and given him the chance to get back under my skin.
Had he really thought I would be happy with his news? But then in five years Craig Dean had moved on and he had no reason to assume I hadn't managed the same. But I hadn't. I'd had other relationships of course. I'd even tried to convince myself I'd fallen in love again but it was never the same. It was never how things had been with Craig and I'd held on to the dream that it would be the same for him. It seems it wasn't.
I can't help but wonder about the woman in his life. Samantha. I wonder what she looks like, what she thinks about me and how much did he really tell her?
I doubt that Craig lied when he said he told her the truth. But I know Craig and I'm sure he edited our history to make things seem less than they were. Is that how it was Craig? Did you tell her about your poor friend who fell in love with you? Did you tell her that we were connected so deeply that it nearly killed us to be apart? Or did you just tell her that I was a mistake of your youth? That feels more likely to me. You can't have told her how much we loved each other back then, I don't think she would have been quite so keen to have that John Paul at her wedding. But it doesn't matter. She won't be having ANY John Paul at her wedding.
After two weeks Craig stopped trying to contact me. The voicemails and texts ended and I tried to convince myself that I was pleased.
I didn't want to hear from him. I didn't want the constant reminder of what I could have, of what I'd lost.
But the absence of his messages still cut me deeply. Every time my phone rang I hoped it was him and when it wasn't I felt the loss of him anew. Once again it seemed that Craig Dean was out of my life and I had to try and claw back the numbness that I had protected myself with previously. But the numbness wouldn't come. All there was was the loss, the emptiness, the large Craig shaped hole in my life that would always be there from now on.
I took to working as much overtime as I could get, even to the extent where I would offer to work extra hours without pay. Anything to keep me away from that empty flat, away from my empty life.
I'm sure it hadn't been this bad before. I'd thought I was content with my life since leaving HCC, I thought I was getting on with things and I thought I was happy. Now I have to admit it was all a charade, I was faking it the whole time to hide the lingering pain of not being with Craig. But it had been bearable because he had become a distant memory, and then he forced himself back into my life and tore it to shreds within hours. How long would it be now before I could get back to the place that I had been? How long before it stops hurting every day?
It must have been gone 10pm on that Friday night when I left the office. Working until ten o-clock on a Friday how sad is that?
The air was cold and I pulled my coat around me. I didn't usually bother driving to work unless the weather was really atrocious, as I didn't live all that far away and sometime I liked the walk, it gave me time to think. At least I used to like the walk; these days time to think is the last thing I needed.
"John Paul." The voice in the darkness startled me but not as much as the figure that stepped out of the shadows.
"Craig," I breathed as I fought the urge to run, "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you," he answered in a matter of fact tone, "You're not an easy man to get hold of when you won't return my calls."
"I'm sorry I…" What was I supposed to say? I was busy? I lost my phone? We both knew the truth and it didn't seem worth the effort to lie. "How did you find me here?"
"Phoned your mum," he told me, "Michaela told me you worked here… so I thought I'd come and wait for you… didn't expect you to be working this late though… I'm frozen." There was a soft laugh in Craig's voice and I felt my mouth smile in response.
No matter how much loving him could hurt me being near him always made it feel worth the pain. My common sense screamed at me to get away now before it was too late but my voice asked him if he wanted to join me for a coffee in the late night café across the road.
I had to smile when he ordered tea and then complained in a hushed voice that it wasn't as good as the ones I used to make.
"What do you want Craig?" I asked looking into the cup of hot brown liquid that I didn't want.
"You wouldn't return my calls."
"You know why that is…" I look up and see his eyes staring unblinking at me, "Don't you?"
"I know." I hardly hear his reply as I am caught in the beauty of his gaze. His eyes are the colour of warm melting chocolate and looking into them I can feel myself and my resistance to him melt away.
"Don't do this again," I scream at myself but I don't listen. I let him take my hand and I revel in the touch of his cold skin, he really had been stood outside a long time.
"I shouldn't have… I didn't mean…" Craig struggles with his words and his hold on my hand tightens.
"What is it Craig?" He seems lost and I want to help him but I don't know how.
"Why didn't you…"
"What?"
"I just wanted… I thought… I wasn't sure and then I saw you again and…"
I was sure I could see tears in his eyes and it broke my heart but I still didn't understand what he was trying to say.
"Tell me Craig," I insisted, "Just tell me."
"I wanted you to tell me not to do it," Craig blurted out, "I wanted you to say that you didn't want me to get married… that you still loved me… why didn't you say it?"
I looked at Craig in disbelief. I couldn't believe what he was saying, what I was hearing.
"I care about Samantha I really do," Craig was saying as he toyed with his drink, "But it's not… it's not enough… I don't love her… not like…" He looked at me again and the look in his eyes took my breath away. "She's not you." He finished quietly.
"So don't marry her," I told him gently, "Stay with me… I love you Craig, I've never stopped loving you."
His fingers curled around mine, I could see the love sparkling in his eyes and I knew he could see the same in mine.
"Take me home," Craig said getting to his feet but not letting go of my hand.
As we left the café Craig eased his body against mine. I could feel the heat of his flesh and I could smell the scent of his skin and I remembered how happiness felt.