It was five years since Jack's death, and Ennis lived in bitter peace and quiet, with no one but the wind. He always would try to live life, as Jack had taught him to, but Ennis found that life was dragging him down, each souvenir of Brokeback or Jack would cause rips in his heart. The relationship he and Jack possessed together was stronger and deeper then anyone could understand. Jack hadn't been a priority in Ennis's life; Jack had been another life. He was like Mars, or Jupiter. Being with Jack was like leaving the world and stepping into something wonderful that he never wanted to leave. The moment he would zone back into reality, he would ache for Jack. He pained at all hours, his mind never resting. It ached for Ennis to remind himself of how he had left Jack in the dark, because of his own pathetic fear and denial; not only was he afraid of living with Jack, but it was because living with Jack would mean that it was real. It wasn't just a dream that Ennis treasured, it would make Ennis with another man. Ever since that summer when he was 19, denial and fear had lingered, arguing with his heart. He had a limit to how far it could go. And Ennis hated himself for what he had done.
Now, with Jack gone, Ennis felt the full weight of his feelings. Every moment of his life, he missed him more then ever, knowing that he will never get to see his life again. To Ennis, every moment of his time with Jack seemed like so long ago, seemed like a dream. But he held on to his memories tightly, fearing for his life that if he lets one go, he will lose Jack forever. The agony Ennis and Jack went through, hand in hand, seemed wonderful to Ennis now. Even with the pain of their strict limit to each other and their time, the pain of being with someone who couldn't be, Ennis would give anything just to go back to those times. He didn't care if he was sent to hell, just as long as Jack was by his side.
Depression would never leave Ennis, he already knew. The pain and anguish that Jack's death had pulled him into was much too deep to resurface from. He would drown in it, while hanging on to whatever was left of his raven-haired cowboy. And each day, when Ennis wakes from another tormented sleep, he wonders if Jack knew Ennis's pure love for him.
Ennis always catches himself wanting death himself. It pained him to know that he absent-mindedly thought about that. But his present life was nothing to him, there was nothing to look forward to in the morning, no light in his life. He was simply, slowly, drowning in an ocean of black misery and constant torment. Everything he once enjoyed, seemed so dull and unimportant. His sight and his touch had seemed to fade. He had absolutely nothing; no wife, no kids, no Jack. The quiet man was more alone then ever before, or so it felt. He knew what it was like to love someone so deeply that it hurt, and now he had it no more. Jack's loss left an empty hole that grew each day, and every time Jack would enter his mind, the edges of that hole would sting like nothing else. Ennis had nothing, nothing but sweet memories that still hurt him. When Ennis thought of death, he thought of it like another drive up to Brokeback to see Jack. Jack was up there, up there with the deceased. If Jack was there, Ennis belonged there, too, not matter how wrong them being together was.
Ennis wouldn't kill himself. One lesson that Jack had subconsciously taught him was the gift of life, and to live it. Why Ennis hadn't fallen upon death already, maybe god had something planned. He wasn't sure. But he wasn't about to quit himself. He would keep on walking as long as his legs could carry him, even if they were already sore as hell. He wasn't even sure what would happen after death, but Jack had brought Ennis to believe that things can happen. He didn't like to think about; the thought that Jack was forever lost was something that killed Ennis all over, ripping the hole inside even wider until there was Ennis was hardly there. But, he used to live off of Jack, and now, he supposed, the vivid, bittersweet memories stored somewhere, he would have to live off of.
He remembered the time they first met, at Aguirre's office. Jack had leaned into him, his hand held before him.
'Jack Twist,' he had said, a smirk playing on his handsome face.
'Ennis,' he had mumbled back, as he fumbled with his watch.
'…Your folks just stop at Ennis?'
'Del Mar.'
'Nice to know ya, Ennis Del Mar.'
The memory sent shivers along his spine. He remembered the first time he had gotten a view of his companion; the first thought that had come was how handsome he was. Shaking it out of his head, he continued his life, avoiding those strange thoughts. And he did develop quite a friendship with Jack Twist, until it was broken and repatched into something more spectacular.
He remembered their first night in the same tent, how he had at first refused to share a tent with him, but the harsh cold had brought them together. He remembered the feeling of being in the moment, when nothing else mattered except doing what you want. Ennis remembered the next morning, sore and frightened of himself, reluctant to Jack and his own feelings. How much of a fool Ennis had been.
He remembered the first time he saw Jack after four years, the agony and excitement in his gut. He remembered the soreness, the ache after hearing Alma say his name. But he felt the trigger of happiness and gratitude of Jack's letter. He remembered so clearly the sort of relief that bloomed inside him when he heard the growl of Jack's truck just outside his house. He remembered the disappointment, the soreness, the dread vanish from inside and being replaced by eagerness and warmth, and still, it almost felt like he was shot in the heart by something wonderfully beautiful. The moment their chests thumped together, Ennis couldn't resist him. The passion that had been barred up finally was set loose. He remembered it so clearly; Jack's sweet scent, feeling his smooth skin under Ennis's hands and lips, Jack's defined cheekbones modeled by an angel, his full lips, and those wide beautifully clear, blue eyes. He remembered it so clearly that it could be happening at present moment. The passion they shared was almost like anger, rising and trying to set free. He didn't care that Jack's back must have hurt as he pushed him to the side of the house, or that his face must have ached from Ennis's lips crashing to his. Ennis just wanted to feel him, like they did once four years ago.
But most times, being with Jack, touching Jack just wasn't enough. There were regular moments with him when Ennis wanted to sink into Jack, to just become one person. Ennis felt so strongly for Jack, it was painful to endure. When he was with him, sometimes it felt like he wasn't even Ennis. He forgot himself and everything, everything but Jack. All that ever mattered was that he was there with him. Or rather, maybe it was that he only felt like he was Ennis when he was with Jack, and someone else without him. Because he knew all too well, you can't have Ennis without Jack. Ennis could never tell him any of this, though. Despite their relationship status, they were both still men, and they're had been a certain limit to what they could say to each other. Never before had Ennis ever told Jack how beautiful he thought he was, or how much he loved him. It took even took Ennis many years to finally realize, or rather, admit to his own self these sinful thoughts.
And as Ennis fell deeper into that dark depression, he still hung on to the past, something that he would never let go. It was all he had left, and that was something that pushed him in even further down the path of awaiting death, awaiting Jack in his dark world, nothing but the wind to remind him of how lonely he was.