I suppose what I think I feel when I look at him is only natural. Hard times bring friends closer together. Maybe, too close? Is it wrong to love someone of your own sex? I don't think so. Why do I worry about this anyway? I don't even know if I love him. It's just that everytime I look at him, my chest gets tight. He makes me nervous, so I rarely speak to him; I don't know what to say when he smiles at me, when he tells a joke, when he lays next to me in bed and watches me as I fake sleep. I feel angry and hurt when he looks at anyone else. I can't understand why. He was so surprised when I kissed him in public. He was standing there, talking to some girl. I didn't like the way she was looking at him, smiling and placing that hand on his shoulder. I walked up to him and placed a kiss directly on his lips, right in front of her. She stared at us as we walked off holding hands. That was the first time I kissed him. The first time I held his hand. The first time we went to our shared apartment and made love.
They call it making love. Why? Perhaps I should refer to it as having sex, but it seems so derrogatory when I do. So emotionless. It's more than that. I can tell when he whispers my name into my ear, the beautiful passion overflowing in his words. Duo pours some more dressing on his salad and offers me some. I refuse. I don't like to drown my food with it like he does. He smiles at me while he's chewing, his cheeks puffed out from the food inside. I don't smile back. I watch as he returns his gaze to the plate in front of him. He looks hurt. I don't mean to hurt him when I don't smile back. I just enjoy watching him more than I do interracting with him. I can't stand to see him not look at me, so I grab his hand that is resting on the table. Ah, there it is. That face...that perfect smile. He winks at me and holds my hand tighter. I guess now would be as good a time as ever...
"Duo," I begin, staring at my plate, not daring to look in his eyes. "Have you ever felt...love?"
He stops chewing his food and swallows, immediately saying, "Yes, Heero."
I don't know what to say for a moment. I didn't know that. I was almost hoping he'd say no; tell me that he'd yet to find the right person to love. Obviously he's already found them, so what am I doing here?
"What does it feel like?" I ask, taking my hand back and crossing my arms over my chest.
He actually thinks about this for a moment, chewing on another bite and trying to decide the right words to use to describe the emotion. I've always wondered, if love is nothing more than a chemical reaction taking place in your brain, why does it affect people so much? It has to be more than that. There must be something so great, so intense, it's almost tangible; you could reach out and grab it and hold it in the palm of your hand.
"I suppose, it feels like...well, when it first happens, it's hard to recognize," he finally says before taking another bite. He continues to talk around the mouthful. "You feel *something* for this one person, and you can't quite put your finger on it. Then, after a while, you realize that there's something so important about them, something so...wonderful...you can't take your mind off of them. Your chest tightens and your heart races every time they're near. Love's a great thing," he says to finish off his speech.
Having that information from Duo may help me realize what it is I feel when I look at him, when I can't take my mind off of him, when I see him in my dreams and I'm unable to move or speak. "It's not easy to fall in love for some people," he continues, stirring me out of my thoughts, "But once you finally do, it's wonderful, just as long as you don't get your heart broken in the end."
Get your heart broken? I've never understood the concept behind that phrase. Emotions are controlled by your brain, not your heart. The only way your heart can be broken is if it stops working, and you die. But losing love has never truly killed anyone has it? Perhaps...perhaps love is so strong and so large, it can not be contained within one area of your body. It surges throughout and dwells within your heart and soul. Perhaps...
I can't stand this thought dwelling on my mind. I must ask, "Who was it that you loved?"
Duo has a look of surprise on his face, as if I should know the answer to this question. I don't. "You mean, who is it that I love," he corrects, for reasons I'm unsure of. He's in love with someone right now? Then what am I to him? I ask myself again, why am I here with him right now if he's in love with someone else?
"Heero, it's you," he says, and I can't speak. "I love you. Why would I be here if I didn't? Surely you knew that?'
"No...I didn't."
"Oh," he says as he takes another bite. He's looking down at his plate again. I hope I didn't hurt him again. Where's that smile, Duo? Why are you upset? You should be happy. You just told me that you love me. It made me happy, I think. I know that I feel like a weight has lifted from my shoulders. Maybe I should say something back. Isn't that what you're supposed to do when someone tells you that they love you? I think so...
"I..." I can't bring myself to say it unless I'm sure it's true. What would that do to him? What if I realize it's not love? I'm new to this, unsure of my feelings. What would happen if days from now I'm unhappy with him, and I tell him so. Duo, I was wrong, I don't love you. No...I could never do that to him.
"I think...I think I love you, too. But I'm not sure," he's smiling at me again. Oh, anything to get that smile back from you, Duo. I smile back for once. Not because I owe it to him, but because I'm happy now, too. I finally told him. The waitress comes and brings the check to the table. I toss out a few bills and grab Duo by the hand. We get up and walk out of the diner back to our apartment. Maybe, sometime later, I'll be sure; I'll be certain of my feelings and tell him honestly exactly what it is I'm feeling. Our lives are new. We've got an eternity set out in front of us to take in our hands, together. I've got plenty of time to find out what it is that causes this surge of emotions when I look at him. Maybe someday, I'll tell him that I know I love him, too. That I'm sure of it.