It took a while to accept why you were so closed off to me. I know she was special to you, and I know you're trying to pull me closer, but sometimes, it's so hard not to be jealous. We would have moments of sheer bliss, just enjoying each other's company, sometimes in total silence, and then I would feel you slowly slipping away from me, back to a time when you were happier than I could ever make you.
.
.
.
After our date night, we hit it off. We didn't have all the same interests by any means, but we found plenty of ways to enjoy each other's company. There were trips with just the two of us going hiking or rock climbing...
"Just be careful up there!" I called to you, my stomach lurching as you unhooked your rope.
"Watch this!" You yelled back, climbing up another foot or two, I fisted my hands in my hair seeing you swing yourself over a ledge, no safety net to catch you if you slipped. "Ta-da!"
"Very funny, now hook back up and come down."
"Aw, you're such a buzz kill!" you stood, balanced on the edge of the cliff, walking along like a cat on a fence,
"And you're going to give me a heart attack!" Your laugh echoed down to me and I finally couldn't watch anymore. I heard the gravel and dirt crunch and scrape under your shoes and I had to look back up. Every step you took, I held my breath, wondering what I could even do if you slipped. With your last hop, you landed in front of me with a grunt. "What is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill me?" I pulled you to me, making you giggle at my bear hug. I'm finally breathing easier now that you were on the ground. "Promise me I never have to see you do that again." You just smiled, hugging me close,
"Yes, Christopher." You whispered, humoring me. I knew you would free climb again. And I knew you were skilled enough to do it. I just couldn't watch.
Other times we would lay out on your front lawn, the roof of my building, or even in the park on a hill, staring at the stars. I tried to show off for you for once, spouting facts about the constellations. I think I got one right, but after a while it became a game with us. You would sit on the grass, between my legs, leaned back against my chest; I would wrap one arm around your stomach, with the other, sometimes I would grasp your hand or stroke your hair. Tonight I am holding your hand while pointing out clusters of stars, and even though you know my stories are bogus, you always ask for more.
"That one right there," I indicate the pattern, leaning closer to you than is really necessary, "is Cassiopeia. It was Galileo's favorite constellation, he called it 'my rose'. Whenever he saw it, he thought of his lover. Her name was Iris, but he preferred Roses, so he would call her Rose." I see you trying not to smile, and I feel your stomach spasm under my arm with a stifled laugh. "It's true!" I insist,
"Yes, Christopher." You whisper, tightly, your voice straining with laughter.
Our first night together was three months after we became official, you had been out of town for something. You never gave me many details, and with work I kept forgetting to ask. You came over for a quiet date night, which I had planned to perfection: I made my mom's lasagna, even had candles and wine and a homemade dessert; then I rented your favorite movie for after dinner, but as soon as I saw you on my doorstep, I couldn't believe how much I had missed you. I hugged you as soon as you got inside and didn't particularly feel like letting go, it wasn't until your stomach growled that I finally gave in and let you go.
We ate dinner quickly and turned on the movie, but neither of us paid any attention to the TV. The opening credits hadn't finished before you had leaned back on my couch, pulling me on top of you. I felt like I was back in high school, nervous and fumbling. I think I kicked over a lamp at some point, and I stubbed my toe on the door jamb when I carried you to the bedroom; you just giggled and swallowed my curses with a kiss that made my knees go weak. Afterward, as we cooled down and caught our breath, you lay on top of me in my bed, both of us covered with a thin sheet, the room too warm to warrant a heavier cover. Fingers were carding through hair, stroking down cheeks and noses and across jaw lines. You stared into my eyes, into me, and sighed happily.
"I love you so much." I whispered for the hundredth time that night, watching your eyes sparkle again at the declaration, "Please stay with me. Never leave again, just stay here." I want to cringe at the desperation in my own voice, but your smile never falters. I catch the tear that slipped down your cheek.
"Yes, Christopher." You whispered, and we fell asleep, bodies molding to one another, heartbeats calming, skin cooling.
