Since I was young, there had always been something about Astoria that pulled me in. I used to think it was the hot summer days of cutting through the forest to get to the pool. Or maybe the even hotter nights when gnats crawled along in the wake of our shadows, searching for cold just as much as we were. How on the streets of Waterfront and Eastview, friendships had been easily forged. We all became friends because we were all the same age.
But I could never have stayed in a town like Astoria. When I was younger, it seemed so big. Now I saw it for what it was; a one stop sign town with four hundred people and half a super market. And not being able to stay, it didn't mean I could easily forget it. Because wherever I went, I felt it. Like a Muslim who faced Mecca to pray, I always knew the exact location of my hometown.
Welcome to Astoria - Founded 1811
It was the first snow of the season. Ten years ago, I would have been inside the city limits, throwing snow balls with Arthur and Morgana. I wondered who had replaced me on our team after I left, or if they had simply kept an open spot for me. Maybe they thought I would come back. Ten years ago, things were different. Today, I sat on the side of the road, heat on high in the shitty Tercel I still drove, staring down the welcome sign, daring it to dare me.
I was only here because it was my mother's birthday. She had come to see me a few times, wherever I happened to be at the time, but she always begged me to come back home. I made a promise on her last birthday, thinking I would have a year to talk myself out of it. Mom broke me down. But maybe if I had been more persistent, if I had told her everything that happened...
This was the road where Arthur kissed me on the mouth for the first time. In the ten years since I had left, I'd had no trouble picturing him in the middle of this empty street. I could still see him breathing there, ten feet ahead and two steps to the left. Now, I was so close to it. A part of me thought that if I crossed over the town line, he would appear. Maybe I would pass through a worm-hole and be transported back ten years so I could do things differently. But of course that was a train of thought supported only by endless Doctor Who marathons, which I now endured by myself.
Eighteen years in Astoria and there was nobody I'd loved more than Arthur. Ten years away from him didn't change that. I spent my nights wondering if he was married, if he had kids. Maybe he was in a civil union and had adopted an adorable foreign baby and he never even thought about me anymore. Maybe he and Morgana got together once a week and talked about that kid they used to know – what was his name? Maurice?
But sometimes when I didn't expect it I had a passing thought that maybe he still thought of me, too. That was probably what really brought me back. That was most likely what had me cutting the engine, stepping out of the car, and walking right up to the welcome sign – A dream come true, it advertised.
The cold is what made me eventually step over the line, and what put me officially, actually, back. I kept walking, hoping the momentum would be enough to keep me from turning around. As I walked, all I could think were different variations on "fuck, it's cold" and "shit shit shit shit shit".
Despite the unease I felt at the possibility of seeing Arthur, the town was still home to me. I had been at unrest for ten years and hadn't noticed until I walked around my old neighbourhood, resurrecting all the memories I had once thought dead.
In the town where everything was a hop, skip, and a jump away from you, it didn't take me long to reach my mother's place. I knocked out of politeness, as my mother was one who believed in customs, and then I remembered one very important piece of information. In Astoria, your birthdays were celebrated with all of your neighbours. And so I shouldn't have been surprised to see that stupid, stupid face, with its stupid hair and crooked teethed smile and shit shit shit shit shit. He turned away from the din and spotted me, presumably the look of terror on my face also, and his smile dropped.
"What are you doing here?" he asked sharply. And okay, it was probably a surprise for him too but this was my mother's house. The answer should have been obvious. Before I could fumble through the letters and numbers in my head to make sense of anything, my mom came to the door to see who it was. And at least she looked happy to see me. Arthur nodded at my mother, tight-lipped, and rejoined the party. But when I went inside, he wasn't there, and I didn't go looking for him. I was leaving again tomorrow morning. What did I care?
Still, I couldn't stop myself from asking Morgana about him. He was single, a professor at the university in a neighbouring town. On his way to becoming Dean, just like his father. Hunith misses you, she said. She said Arthur thought me leaving was a little bit his fault. Morgana told me she hated me for a long time. They talked about me sometimes. Arthur, usually with a couple beers in him, would reminisce about how carefree he used to be. I wondered if I took that away from him.
Before I went to bed, I ripped a sheet out of mum's legal pad and wrote down everything I'd wanted to say but was too hard; everything I'd wanted to say when I called Arthur at 3 am, then chickened out and pretended to be a telemarketer from India.
I left it in the mailbox I remembered as his, hoping it would be some consolation, knowing he didn't do anything wrong. Because he didn't. And of course it would be him, thinking for the last ten years that if he had done something differently, I'd still be there.
And that was that. It had been ten years. He was different and I was different. He would go on, hopefully hating me a little less. And maybe if I came back in another ten years, we could be friends.
Arthur,
I can't say anything to change things, but I wanted a chance to explain.
I realize I am no better than the ex-boyfriend of mine who cheated on me to "see if he really loved me." I thought if I left, I would realize how I felt about you. And after missing you for ten years, I thought coming back would help me realize it was okay to leave. But all it made me realize is that when I left, there was a huge fucking piece of me left in your bedside table. I feel strewn among the polaroids we took in high school and all the ticket stubs from all the concerts we snuck out for.
I want you to know I don't have any interesting stories from the last ten years. The only story I have to tell is the one of you and me, stopping on our way back from the pool, in the middle of the forest. We made brooms from tree branches and swept a clearing together. We sat on tree stumps and pretended to eat dinner, in a home that belonged to just us. And I thought that would be us, for the rest of our lives.
I'd loved you for years and I finally got you. It scared the hell out of me. So I left. I fucked it up. That's the only story I have. This is me taking responsibility and saying that everything that happened was my fault.
-Merlin
But then when I got back to Terry "the Turtle" Tercel, the boy who had named it twelve years ago was sitting on the hood.
"You're an asshole," he told me. And this was the closest I'd stood to him since we'd kissed for the last time, him saying goodnight and not knowing it was goodbye. And despite the gaping, aching hole in my stomach, I briefly thought about how well he had grown up. He was more beautiful than any man from any big city. And he might have been mine.
When we were younger, Morgana had forced us to watch several Meg Ryan movies and this was never how they ended. For years I had been with Bill Pullmans, and Tom Hanks was here all along. But I had missed my chance.
And I said, "I know," because it was what I told myself the day I left this godforsaken town, and every day since.
"Why couldn't you just tell me?"
Because it hurt too much. Because I knew you would convince me not to go and I had to leave. I loved you for eighteen years and I didn't think you could ever love as much. After a few moments, I settled on something that made me less vulnerable.
"Um, I have to work tomorrow. So... goodbye," there were the words he'd never had, and they weren't sufficient now.
"Christ, Merlin," was all he could say. Which was a hell of a lot more than I could say.
"What do you want from me?" Because really, it wasn't even like I was supposed to be here. This town wasn't mine anymore, even if I sometimes thought that coming back would not be the most impossible thing.
"Nothing. God. Just go," and this was a side of him I had seen before. He was different but I still knew him. He was hurt and angry and I had been the cause. And this was probably the expression on his face when he found out I'd gone.
"Fine," I got into the car but he was still sitting on the hood. I stared at him pointedly for a few moments and he looked back, challenging me as well as I had wanted the Welcome to Astoria sign to challenge me.
I honked. He was still fuming and I was close to yelling at him when he finally hopped off the hood. And instead of getting back into his car, which was considerably nicer and newer than mine, he got into my car.
"What are you doing?" He was sitting in the passenger seat before I could face him
"I'm coming with you." Arthur's jaw was set. I knew well enough that once he had decided something, he couldn't be deterred. I had to try anyways.
"No, you're not. Get out, Arthur."
"Merlin. I don't want to wait another ten years to see you. I hate you. I've hated you for ten goddamn years. But I missed you. And I still think we have a chance. If there is any part of you that thinks this is worth a shot, start the fucking car."
"You have a life here-" I started in, knowing this was a bad idea. Of course I wanted him to come with me. A life with Arthur was what I'd wanted for all of my twenty-eight years.
"I swear to God if you don't start this car, I will start it for you."
"You just told me you hate me, why would I want to start the car?" And I certainly thought it was a valid question, but he just scoffed at me, like he always used to when I asked stupid questions.
"Because you make lots of money but you still have this piece of shit Toyota that I named and it is the only thing you have that reminds you of me so you obviously still care about me and also because you have work tomorrow, so we should really be leaving now." Maybe he was screaming a little, but it was sort of true. I hadn't found it in me to get rid of Terry and I hated him just a little for knowing that.
"Arthur-"
"Just promise you won't leave again."
I looked at him and remembered what the last ten years were like, and imagined how the next ten years would be without him. And then I started the car, and he smiled at me, and I figured that was the only promise he needed.