I walk swiftly, more by habit than necessity. I swing by the Food Emporium
quickly, just to pick up a few extra things. Mark could use some comfort
food right now. I navigate my way through the aisles, obviously not used to
food shopping. I manage to grab some instant mashed potatoes and grape
soda. It's Mark's thing. His food. The stuff he eats after every rejection,
every funeral, every time he ends up in a hospital cafeteria. I get a pack
of cigarettes and get to a register. After my shopping is completed, I take
a walk to give Mark a little more time to himself. Two city blocks later, I
enter our building and climb the six flights of stairs to the loft. I ease
the door open and place the Food Emporium bag on the table, making sure to
slip the box of cigarettes into my pocket first. I peek through the crack
of Mark's closed door to see him curled up and facing the other side of the
room, breathing lethargically. I toe my way around the bed, sitting on the
edge of the side he's facing. Contrary to my belief, he's not asleep, just
lying quietly with his eyes open, tears staining his face and his hands
clutching at the blanket. I rub his arm and lean in towards his ear.
"Hey Mark."
He blinks and looks up at me. His voice cracks with exhaustion. "Hey. You're back."
"Yup. I got you something."
"You did?"
"Mmhmm. Mashed potatoes and grape soda. The potatoes are instant...but I thought they'd be better than anything I attempted to cook."
He smiles through the salty tracks on his face. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. You want me to heat them up for you? Get you some soda?"
He shakes his head. "Later." He looks down in consideration, then up again. "Roger?"
"Yea?"
"Do you think you could...would you...can you just stay with me? Hold me?" His tone is completely sincere, begging me to comfort him.
"Of course. Of course Mark." I climb onto the bed behind him, my arms wrapping around his waist, fitting perfectly. I snuggle my chin into his shoulder, just being with him, hoping he can fathom the amount of me with which I love him. I move my arm so I can wipe the residue of his tears off his face. "Mark?"
His voice is tired and soft. "What?"
"You know...you know I love you, right? You know that I would do anything for you. That I've spent way too long denying you...denying us. You know that I am going to use all the time I have left to be with you, because that's what I want. Because no matter what they did to you, no matter who didn't want you, I do. I want you, and I always will. You know that, right?"
Mark shifts in my arms so he's facing me, and fresh tears have replaced the dried streams. Seemingly speechless, he nods and smiles through his tears. His cold fingers grasp at my shirt and hold on, needing my warmth and my love. Most of all, I think he needs my need. He needs to know that I'm here, and that I need him, even if no one else does.
Unable to think of anything else, I decide it's time to see him laugh, smile at the least. I kiss his nose and sing softly. "I love you Marky, oh yes I do, I love you Marky, and I'll be true. When you're not near me, I'm blue, oh Marky I love you."
He can't help but laugh as he wipes his face and sniffles. "You are such a dork."
"Never thought you'd find anyone as nerdy as you huh?"
"Hey!" He half-heartedly pushes my shoulder and wipes his nose again. "I'm not a nerd."
I smile and push his hair out of his eyes. "Yes you are. But you're a very cute nerd." I kiss him gently on the lips, my sole intentions in comfort, but he pulls me into something deeper. He breaks away after a moment and smiles.
"I'm sick of being sad."
"Good." I return to our kiss, making it into more than the last one. He kisses me back, but stops it after a minute.
"Actually...think I could get some of those potatoes now?"
I smile and climb off the bed. "Sure. Care to help me cook?"
"Think I'd let you do it alone, then eat it?" He promptly follows me out of the room and into the kitchen, getting milk for the mix. He holds up a very empty bottle and cocks his head to the side. "Forget something at the store?"
"Aw shit. Of course. Can I ever just get something done in one try?" I grab my jacket from the chair. "So, you coming with me?"
"Absolutely."
He's cheered up considerably already, and seems to have forgotten earlier conversations. Usually I would worry about his bouncing back so quickly, but at this point, he's happy, and that's all I really care about.
We casually start the trek to the Food Emporium. It's not the closest thing to us, but it's the cheapest, so we deal. It's the first time I've walked down this street with him, and had the urge to just walk a little bit closer. I casually and subtly brush my hand against his, slowly taking hold and walking with our fingers interlocked. He coughs and slips his hand away from mine in order to cover his mouth. Instead of returning to our previous position, however, he puts his hand in the pocket of his jacket, declining to mention that anything had changed. I look to him for an explanation, but he just continues walking.
"You ok?"
"Yea, fine. Why?"
"You just...nothing."
"Oh...k."
We reach the supermarket and enter quietly. I follow Mark to the refrigerated section, searching for the cheapest milk available. He opens the case and stands in front of it, scanning the shelves. I stand close behind him and wrap my arms around his neck. He tenses in my grasp and leans in to grab a carton of milk, ducking out of my embrace. I catch his hand as he tries to walk away and pull him back towards me.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing's wrong." He gives me a small smile and begins to head down an aisle.
I follow after him, speaking in a low, quick voice. "First you didn't want to let me hold your hand, now you won't let me hug you in public. What's going on?"
"I just...Roger it's weird, ok?" He spins and steps closer to me, not wanting to be heard. "I'm sorry and I don't love you any less, but it's just weird for now. People..."
"People," I step closer to him "are assholes. Let them think what they think. I don't care."
"But I do. And I know I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't care what other people think. But I'm sorry, I do."
I don't say anything, just nod to his statement. Mark's been through more today than in the last month, meaning I'm not going to make it any more difficult. He stares at me, searching for some hint of my reaction, but I simply keep to his preference and step back from him. I walk quietly towards the register, subdued in manner. We don't speak throughout the duration of our walk back, and I stay about a foot away from his side. I'm not angry. Disappointed in a way, but not angry. My hands have been stuffed in my pockets, leaving Mark to carry the milk. We are within two blocks of the loft, and remain in awkward silence. I notice he keeps turning his face to look at me, but I continue walking, with nothing to say to him. After almost a block of interspersed sideways glances, I notice Mark subtly moving closer to me. While waiting for the light, I feel a tug at my arm, and he pulls my hand out of its pocket. He looks straight ahead, but smiles slightly as he squeezes my hand. We continue to the loft, fingers interlocked.
"Hey Mark."
He blinks and looks up at me. His voice cracks with exhaustion. "Hey. You're back."
"Yup. I got you something."
"You did?"
"Mmhmm. Mashed potatoes and grape soda. The potatoes are instant...but I thought they'd be better than anything I attempted to cook."
He smiles through the salty tracks on his face. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. You want me to heat them up for you? Get you some soda?"
He shakes his head. "Later." He looks down in consideration, then up again. "Roger?"
"Yea?"
"Do you think you could...would you...can you just stay with me? Hold me?" His tone is completely sincere, begging me to comfort him.
"Of course. Of course Mark." I climb onto the bed behind him, my arms wrapping around his waist, fitting perfectly. I snuggle my chin into his shoulder, just being with him, hoping he can fathom the amount of me with which I love him. I move my arm so I can wipe the residue of his tears off his face. "Mark?"
His voice is tired and soft. "What?"
"You know...you know I love you, right? You know that I would do anything for you. That I've spent way too long denying you...denying us. You know that I am going to use all the time I have left to be with you, because that's what I want. Because no matter what they did to you, no matter who didn't want you, I do. I want you, and I always will. You know that, right?"
Mark shifts in my arms so he's facing me, and fresh tears have replaced the dried streams. Seemingly speechless, he nods and smiles through his tears. His cold fingers grasp at my shirt and hold on, needing my warmth and my love. Most of all, I think he needs my need. He needs to know that I'm here, and that I need him, even if no one else does.
Unable to think of anything else, I decide it's time to see him laugh, smile at the least. I kiss his nose and sing softly. "I love you Marky, oh yes I do, I love you Marky, and I'll be true. When you're not near me, I'm blue, oh Marky I love you."
He can't help but laugh as he wipes his face and sniffles. "You are such a dork."
"Never thought you'd find anyone as nerdy as you huh?"
"Hey!" He half-heartedly pushes my shoulder and wipes his nose again. "I'm not a nerd."
I smile and push his hair out of his eyes. "Yes you are. But you're a very cute nerd." I kiss him gently on the lips, my sole intentions in comfort, but he pulls me into something deeper. He breaks away after a moment and smiles.
"I'm sick of being sad."
"Good." I return to our kiss, making it into more than the last one. He kisses me back, but stops it after a minute.
"Actually...think I could get some of those potatoes now?"
I smile and climb off the bed. "Sure. Care to help me cook?"
"Think I'd let you do it alone, then eat it?" He promptly follows me out of the room and into the kitchen, getting milk for the mix. He holds up a very empty bottle and cocks his head to the side. "Forget something at the store?"
"Aw shit. Of course. Can I ever just get something done in one try?" I grab my jacket from the chair. "So, you coming with me?"
"Absolutely."
He's cheered up considerably already, and seems to have forgotten earlier conversations. Usually I would worry about his bouncing back so quickly, but at this point, he's happy, and that's all I really care about.
We casually start the trek to the Food Emporium. It's not the closest thing to us, but it's the cheapest, so we deal. It's the first time I've walked down this street with him, and had the urge to just walk a little bit closer. I casually and subtly brush my hand against his, slowly taking hold and walking with our fingers interlocked. He coughs and slips his hand away from mine in order to cover his mouth. Instead of returning to our previous position, however, he puts his hand in the pocket of his jacket, declining to mention that anything had changed. I look to him for an explanation, but he just continues walking.
"You ok?"
"Yea, fine. Why?"
"You just...nothing."
"Oh...k."
We reach the supermarket and enter quietly. I follow Mark to the refrigerated section, searching for the cheapest milk available. He opens the case and stands in front of it, scanning the shelves. I stand close behind him and wrap my arms around his neck. He tenses in my grasp and leans in to grab a carton of milk, ducking out of my embrace. I catch his hand as he tries to walk away and pull him back towards me.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing's wrong." He gives me a small smile and begins to head down an aisle.
I follow after him, speaking in a low, quick voice. "First you didn't want to let me hold your hand, now you won't let me hug you in public. What's going on?"
"I just...Roger it's weird, ok?" He spins and steps closer to me, not wanting to be heard. "I'm sorry and I don't love you any less, but it's just weird for now. People..."
"People," I step closer to him "are assholes. Let them think what they think. I don't care."
"But I do. And I know I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't care what other people think. But I'm sorry, I do."
I don't say anything, just nod to his statement. Mark's been through more today than in the last month, meaning I'm not going to make it any more difficult. He stares at me, searching for some hint of my reaction, but I simply keep to his preference and step back from him. I walk quietly towards the register, subdued in manner. We don't speak throughout the duration of our walk back, and I stay about a foot away from his side. I'm not angry. Disappointed in a way, but not angry. My hands have been stuffed in my pockets, leaving Mark to carry the milk. We are within two blocks of the loft, and remain in awkward silence. I notice he keeps turning his face to look at me, but I continue walking, with nothing to say to him. After almost a block of interspersed sideways glances, I notice Mark subtly moving closer to me. While waiting for the light, I feel a tug at my arm, and he pulls my hand out of its pocket. He looks straight ahead, but smiles slightly as he squeezes my hand. We continue to the loft, fingers interlocked.