Toris, I love you.
"Toris! Toris, wait! !" I yell as I run down the stairs after him. I can't seem to catch him.
I don't want to lose you. Not ever.
He runs outside into the bright day. I almost trip running thru the kitchen doorway to follow him to my backyard. Why won't he turn to look at me? Turn and look at me Toris!
You're the only one . . . I have left that I . . . feel a special connection to.
"TORIS! ! !" I yell knowing I was tripping on a tree's trunk as I ran into the woods that surrounded the back of my house. How much had he heard and seen?
Don't leave me...
I don't know why I don't get up and keep running. Even if I know he's getting farther and farther away every second that passes, I just lay there on my stomach, staring at the dirt in front of me as I start crying.
Don't leave me alone too...
I think of Arthur as I say 'too' in my mind. What would I do if it were him that caught me like that and ran off? Nothing different then what I was doing with Toris right now. Oh God, when was it that the two were . . . . . on the same level? Why must I think of you right now of all times? Why can't I get you out of my head, no matter what? Why had I let that dream, or truth, let me infatuate myself with you. How could a stupid night kissing and hugging you and holding hands, whether it was really a dream, or true event, make me start loving you so much? Is it because it was my first time? Is it because it was with you? Is it because the dream/event made me see you as such a 'great' person? Does it really matter? I want you, that's all there is to it. But . . . what will I do once I have you? I . . . I don't really want you for sex or closeness, I . . . I don't know really. All I know is that I get jealous seeing you with anyone else and I am always thinking of you day and night. Do I long for you? Your friendship? Your company? Your love? These are the questions that hold me back from telling you myself of my feelings. Because . . . . I don't know what I really want from you and . . . I'm too embarrassed to tell you what I am sure of. I know I want to hold hands. I want to hug. I want to make you laugh. I want to spend every minute with you. I want to make you happy, no matter the cost. Am I a good friend or . . . ?
"Toris is important too," I utter. Yes. He is irreplaceable. There are friends we have for different reasons. Some are to help us. Some are to comfort us. Some to have fun with. People have certain expectations and labels friends, as cruel and bad as that sounds. There are the friends who you could care less if they were absent in school, the friends that you'd cry if they left forever for, the friends you'd work your butt off to buy them something nice, and expect nothing in return but the pleasure to hand a present to personally and see them smile and their faces' brighten with sheer joy and excitement. Yes, its what I desired to do for Arthur and Toris alike. But, as same level and priority they are in my mind, why do I . . . why do I still have Arthur as my top priority?
I get up, struggling because my left knee received a scrape and is now bleeding, and start to slowly walk straight ahead in the direction where Toris headed. Its no use calling out to him. He knows I'm looking for him. I must confront him with my sheer silence and presence. Because I know that alone can kindle great emotion in him. Why have I never noticed how much Toris likes to be with me? He talks to me whenever he can when none of my friends are around. He loves to hear me talk. He loves the way I laugh and cry when something funny or sad happens in a movie or book. He loves how I think pigeons and turtles are going to take over the world. He loves that I love to share everything I like with him. And most of all, he likes that he gets to have me all for himself nowadays. Yes. Since I have been separated and isolated by everyone, whether distance or speaking, I get to have all of my time spent with him. My world revolves around him now, whether I intend it or not, because he has made it so. Not one day goes by where he doesn't compliment me or thanks me for the simplest things such as telling him a great story to carry him anything heavy when needed.
'Do you think we'll know each other for a long time?' he'd ask me all worried at least once a week.
'I hope so.' I'd tell him and rub his hair. 'People with such a great relationship as us never forget each other.'
I look up a tree, hearing him whimper and sob, trying to cover his face. I smile, relieved. I walk up to the tree, where he proceeds to do a whimpering sound.
"G-get away," he mutters. Oh, words and explaining myself don't work for someone like him. Only physical force does. I grab his boot that dangles from the lowest tree branch, he might be skinny, but he sucks at climbing, he tries to resist, but secretly, I think he lets himself be pulled down. I pull him down, and he falls on me. I look up at his crying face as I lay on my back, with a face of remorse, while he cleans his red, embarrassed face with his sleeve, sitting on my stomach. I don't move, knowing that the slightest movement could . . . well . . . I don't really know.
"You heard everything?" I ask stupidly. Of course he did.
"O-of course! !"
"Why are you upset? Is it because it bothered you?" I ask innocently, knowing I was putting more pressure on him to tell me. I have to know. In this world where there is little time and anything can happen, I have to know certain things, facts I should say, about how one human being feels about something. Running on pure guesses and assumptions will only do us bad in the long run, like when I made the terrible mistake of assuming Arthur would oppose our separation without hesitation and try as much as possible see and talk about me. Nope, nothing. I had been totally wrong on him. To think to know a human being so much are lies. There is no such thing, sadly. He looks at me with a hesitant face. He looks away as he slides his hands to rest on my chest. But I make no movement or noise, waiting on his response.
"Y-you having sex with Arthur and . . . F-Francis liking you," he utters. Of course. I myself am pissed for not handling the situation with Francis back there well. That was a terrible way to end a physical confrontation, from him of all people. Why? Why must these two people like me? Why must I appeal and meet whatever standards and preferences these two people have about me? I'm no good. I'm terrible. When I see something better than the other, I jump right at it. I'm rash natured. I never follow thru with anything. I fear, also, being bored. Becoming bored with anyone I end up. Because . . . I tend to get bored easily. How selfish I am! How, also, selfish I am to think it is Toris and Francis's faults for making me remember I'm selfish and undeserving of any human affection and infatuation for myself! ! I deserve no one, nor do I deserve to have the privilege of meeting anyone's idea of a 'crush'. They don't know . . . they don't know I desire no affection, no kindness returned to me, because of all these ignorant and selfish thoughts and emotions I have! Why must I judge myself harshly? Well, I realized that everyone probably thinks like me too. Call it having an honest conscious, but, everyone has dark, selfish thoughts of themselves. I, like any other person never speaks of it. But, I think about it a lot. Of course, everyone can say they 'think' a lot. But, I tend to worry and fill my head with paranoid ideas and take everything seriously.
There's no denying I never had sex with Arthur, heck I didn't know the answer to that myself either. All I know is that I thought and experienced it, real or drunk-fueled dream. There was no saying I did. The sheer mental experience itself was enough to say I did. I believe I hadn't really had sex with him, or right now, I'd be trying to seek him out and lust for him more. It is natural to want sex, I believe. But, there is differences between the sheer lust of it, horny or as physical proof I've become very intimate with the 'one I love'. I can't say I'm sorry or excuse myself, that fixes nothing.
"Toris, you know I'm still a virgin," I say as I dare slide my hand on his left cheek and into his soft, tied back brown hair and bangs. I don't dare, though, to smile.
"B-but y-you still . . ." Poor thing. He is so crushed with the thought of me being intimate with the one he sees himself to have competition with. I realized he is too timid and shy to say anything he actually thinks. I have to be the bold of the two to explain and point out or situation. Like I said, feelings and thoughts based of hints we believe to pick up are never the way to go. Of course, that's what I do all the time. I contradict my own words.
"I know. But its not like I can take it out of my mind. What's done is done. Do you want me to never mention him ever again?" I ask. I don't really mind, if its giving him peace of mind. Just because I love someone who is unaware of my feelings and self-torture and aching for them does not meet I will solemnly preserve myself for them. I used to think that, but now, so much time has passed, no communication amongst each other and nothing to confirm he acknowledges me back, I grew weary and found it stupid to preserve myself for them. Why do something like that that is possibly setting myself up for major disappointment? I am sorry if it sounds so harsh and so 'unromantic' of me but, I am not willing of caring to do that any longer if Arthur doesn't even know what I'm doing for him. Bastard. Bastard for never noticing my infatuation or everything I secretly do!
"N-no, d-don't do that. B-but Francis . . . he-!"
"I know. But, he does not love me. He merely wants me." To love someone is to still have feelings for them if they were, say, run over and left deformed, to still care for them. To want someone is just to want them for sex or bragging rights. I believe Francis merely wants my companionship and intimacy with me. No, no love. Not this early and fast.
"Al-Alfred, I can't keep up with this. With all this confusion."
"I know. But . . . ," oh god. I have no idea how to approach this. I . . . I never thought such a dilemma would present itself. W-what do I do?
"What are you two doing?" Asked a deep voice above us.
"Oh Ludwig! Its so good to see you!" I say as I pull Toris above with me. I nervously smiel and luahg, trying to play off the awkward pose Ludwig had caught us in.
"We wer're just talking," Toris said, going along with me.
"Yes! Discussing our feelings about the party and stuff! Say, aren't you a little early? What gives? !" I say as I start shoving Ludwig ahead of us, leading him towards my house.
"Well I came to help and talk to you," he says worried.
"Why that's so kind of you! You cna help the Frenchie in cooking and-!"
"Not that kind of help. I mean, you called about being-"
"Oh that! Sure Ludwig! Let's just get organized and stuff!" I exclaim. As soon as we step foot into my house, I see Francis on the kitchen table, cutting some vegetables, seeming serious and dissapointed.
"Hey Francis, Ludwig came to help!" I exclaimed smiling.
"Oh great," he mutters as he gives us a nasty glare.
"You two go on ahead in the living room, I have to talk to Francis for a bit," I tell them as I wave the two away. As soon as we're alone, I walk up to Francis, grab ahold of his shoulders and start to shake him.
"What's wrong with you and the uneeded sarcasm? !" I exclaim annoyed.
"Well how am I suppose to act? You rejected me!" He exclaimed back.
"Well don't take it out on everyone! I have my reasons for rejecting you! And don't say rejected, you make it sound like I disapprove of your whole being or something! I like you! Your awesome, funny and your hair is quite pretty! I still like you, just not love and want to be in a commited relationship with you! Geez!" I exclaim. He looks at me and clasps his hands together.
"I'm so sorry. This is the first time i've been rejected by a man before," he smiles.
"WHAT? !" I exclaim. I did not see that coming.
"Your right, I shouldn't get so upset, come to think of it, I could do better," he smiles. I start chocking him.
"On secodn thought, I think I'd rather have you morning about me for a while longer you damn-!"
"Ahem," coughed Ludwig standing by the doorway. We both meekly turn to him.
"If you don't mind I HAVE A LIFE AND I COULD BE DOING SOMETHING NOW AND NOT HERE CARING ABOUT YOU!" Yelled Ludwig.
"Okay okay!" I yelled back as I let go of Francis.
"Hey, but really, thanks," I say as I wave bye to Francis. I hope he wasn't kidding about him able to get over it quickly.
I see Toris finishing up cleaning and now he's taking out a huge box filled with ribbons and stuff. He seems very busy and into his work, so I just smile as Ludwig leads me up the stairs. He closes the room behind me. I stand in the middle of the room, close my eyes and smiel as I hear his footsteps get loud as he runs up to me and hugs me as hard as he could with his big arms.
" I missed you," he mutters. I pat his back.
"I sure did too budy."
"Its been too many years."
"Sure has. I was wondering if you had left me for someone else," I laugh.
"Best friends don't do that."
"Hah, that's comforting," I laugh. I smile as he lets go of me. We've been friends for a very long time. We don't see each other often, I can only contact him thru mail, but, every time I gget a reply, I get teary, he does too, because we rarely see each other ever since we've grown up and everything. He's a long childhood friend of mine. I confide him with everythign happening in my life, and he does so too with me. We understand each other's diffirence's and we understand each other's faults. We tell each other EVERYTHING.
"So, how logn are you going to be here?" I ask as I take a bag he carried on his back and placed it besides my bed.
"Well, I'm here on bussiness, but I thought I'd swing by. I'll come back in about a few weeks, probably two, so we can talk better."
"Are you really mad?" I ask as he sits on my bed and I lean against my wall.
"Yes."
"About what specifically?"
"Everything. How could you let people here run around with the image of liking you? And how can you obsses with this Arthur fellow?"
"I DO NOT obsses anymore! Besides, I don't care much about him."
"Hmm that's what you say, but not your face."
"S-shut up!" I exclaim as I cover my face with both hands nervously.
"I get excited whenever anyone brings him up, because I don't like bringing him up myself," I say.
"I understand. Its alright. Well, I better keep walking. By the way, that was Toris, the Lithanian fellow, that was sitting on you, right?"
"W-wha-? ! Look, I can explain-!"
"Yes, that you should be with him rather than Arthur," said Ludwig as he picked up his things again.
"Yeah."
"Did you invite him to this party your planning tonight?"
"I asked Toris to handle invitations. I'll let fate decide who he invited."
"That's very trusting of you, he said as he opened the door to my room, about to leave.
"One thing though, don't get your hopes up."
I smile.
"Too late. I have it up every day."
He smiles.
"Great, I get to work with a more mentally unstable Alfred in a couple of days."
I wave goodbye to him. As I look out my window and see Ludwig's image slowly getting smaller, I smile.