This is for you, H. I can't write your name. Not yet. If you ever see this, if you ever wonder who I've written this for, then yes, this is me, talking to you. You, my love.
Only and always you.
I've never written a diary before. This is a first for me. I'm doing it to make sense of these hectic feelings buzzing around in my head, feelings which have been growing ever since I first saw you. Tall, elegant, smoking as if born to it, the vapour trailing from your lips as you say your name, slender wrists and a firm grip, closing around my hand. I knew right then I was lost. The only question was how deep.
The most horrific day of my life came when I saw you slipping beneath the water. In that moment, I saw my life flashing past, all the missed opportunities, the gaping empty hole my life would be without you in it. I saw all of this as I dived in, and felt the solid presence of you, gradually being drawn into my arms. I could have kissed you then. Let your last breath be shared with mine, our limbs tangled as the water pulled us deeper, our lips locked in a kiss forever.
Yet our instincts to survive were too strong. Our hearts beat so briefly as one, breast to breast, stomach to stomach, groin to groin, racing pulses that absolutely refused to die. And that is why I'm here, writing this, watching you study. You've just looked up and me and smiled, an intimate smile of true friendship. How would you feel if I told you that wasn't what I wanted? I didn't just want solidarity, brotherhood, lifelong friends, colleagues. I wanted love, partnership, passion.
With you. No one but you.
Do you know what that is? I mean, really? I watch you with Roxanna and you have so much love for her. It's tender and true, but there's no passion, not in the way I'm talking about. Our hearts beat the same rhythm. You don't understand but if I could show you, I would.
Imagine the shiver of lips on the back of your neck, of fingertips gliding down your back, the warmth of breath against your throat, the nip of teeth leaving their mark.
Can you?
Close your eyes and breathe in the scent of another human being, feel the muscles, planes and hollows under your hands, the sweet rasp of stubble ag ainst your skin.
Can you imagine that? Now you're lighting another cigarette, long fingers running through your hair, that great brain absorbing knowledge, processing it, seeing the potential. And all I can do is look at you and drink you in, imagine my fingers in your hair, my body under yours, putting the same cigarette to my lips, right where yours just were. I see us lying side by side, naked, sweat-soaked, exhausted and sated, possibly a little panicked. There's a name for people like us. We are shrouded in death on every side. People dropping, accused, shunned, misunderstood, blamed for wanting too much, too soon, too publicly.
But not us, in this small room, fragranced with your smoke and my need for you. Here we are safe. Oh my love, if you could only see and accept these feelings I have for you. Your reciprocation is all I crave.
I'm getting stupid now. And drunk. I'll close my eyes and dream of you.