Memoirs of a Man
The sky over head is dark. It's almost pitch black but has that purple tint to it and the stares are shining their brightest. The brightest I have ever seen them shine in all my years of existence. The wind is calm, cool, and comforting in the hot summer heat, even though it's already late at night. You can smell the water from where I sit. You can almost feel it lapping against you as it moves forwards, slowly, forever moving, and never stopping once. It's so much like him.
How long ago was it that he moved next door? How long ago was it that I first met him, not realizing that it was really him until he told me so. I can still picture him in his cream suit and paten leather shoes. His light hair shinning the warm light of the party he had held. I had been surprised that I had been invited. And I do believe I had taken to him immediately.
I had been surprised even more when he began to talk to me more, inviting me to fly with him, inviting me to lunch to meet some of his friends, and further more asking me for favors, calling me his friend. It wasn't until later that I realized I wanted so much more. It was uncommon then, for men to feel that way towards other men. And I never really had the chance to ever confess it.
I wish I had. I wish I had taken the chance, I wished I had plunged into that deep end and come out on top, floating there, body weightless and careless. That's what it felt like most of the time that I was with him. I felt carefree, weightless, as if I need not a care in the whole world. But of course his heart had already been taken. His heart had already been bought and put in a glass case. Only to be dropped later.
She was naive, she was conceited, back stabbing, and held too much on class. She didn't deserve him, even though she was my cousin and I wanted nothing but happiness for her, I wanted it more for him. I wanted desperately to give him that, to be the one that he smiled at, to be the one that lit up his eyes and had him looking at me as if he was dazed and unsure if it really was reality or another dream.
I believe now, if given a second chance, I would tell him. After all, even though it's been years since he passed, I still feel for him. He is still the only beautiful human being I've ever seen. He still has the only soothing voice I've ever truly heard. He's still the only one I would lean into to hear, even if he was yelling at the top of his lungs. Anything to be closer, anything to have him smile, or simply look content.
But life isn't fair and it won't be long until I fallow. After all, it's been years and this might be the last night sky I see. I look over and see that green light, and for a moment it looks like he's standing there, looking out at it, mooning over it, wishing for it. And even now, when I know it's nothing but my mind, I wish he'd turn his eyes and for once in his god damn existence see me.
Fin