Let Me Occupy Your Mind [Natsby Fanfiction]

4.

"...Gatsby?"

"Yes."

The millionaire was so off putting. All I knew was careful, leave-the-liquor-alone, Gatsby. Who was this man on the telephone? Uneasy, I inquired:

"...You miss me?"

A hiccup interjected before Gatsby the chance to speak, "I am so, so, so de-eply sorry."

An impression was made on me; his innocent call was charming, it brought a faint, delicate smile to my face. Closer, I leaned into the telephone.

"It's alright. I know you didn't mean any harm. Just, tell me how you feel."

It ringed over and over in my mind, "I miss you." The sincerity in his voice warmed me to an absolute.

"It's difficult to say, but—I've caught these emotions—a feeling of belonging towards you."

"I feel the same way."

"Old sport—Nick, I think it's deeper, more..."

Gatsby was finding a word, not in a heedful manner— like, he forgot what the word "complicated" meant. I reciprocated that it was indeed, complicated for the two of us. With my mind made up, I offered our conversation with what Jordan advised me to do.

"I feel as if you were avoiding me because I assumed there was a meaningful connection between us. In a familiar fashion... like you with Daisy."

The last part was hard to admit. For the man on the phone, Gatsby swallowed, as what I said was an unpromising diagnosis.

"You're right. I am in love with you, and I'm confus—" another hiccup, "confused."

Content, I really was. To hear those seven, joyous, words that left me giddy and gay. While I enjoyed this openly emotional Gatsby, I knew he was vulnerable, tired, and would forget this conversation in the morning. Just like the moon and the stars, it was all unreachable now—detached and bittersweet.

"I see that now. You mean the world to me, Gatsby, you're the last thing I want to lose."

"I as well, Nick. Please, come see me."

"I can't. I have work tomorrow, you understand that."

A shy, small sigh of sadness whispered on the telephone. It broke my heart that Gatsby was trying to hide his outward disappointment.

"...I love you too, Jay."

He and I said our goodbyes.

The hottest day in the summer months emerged that morning. Honey coloured sunlight danced through and under my linen sheets. It was beautiful. Majestic waters outside my window gleamed, glittered... they were blue like his. I cut the thorns off of my tulips, and delighted myself to cake.

As for me and Gatsby, the distance between us grew larger. It hurt, yes, but I gave in to the truth that he belonged to Daisy's heart and not mine. Since, he did manage to save our relationship once... only to run off again to the same virtues he desired.

It was...for the best. After all, he stopped his bodacious parties just for her. He stopped everything for her. It wasn't fair, but if I waited and stayed for him, nothing would spring up. Was I depressed? Yes. But I couldn't stay this miserable for long.

When Daisy invited me to lunch with Jordan and Gatsby in her own home. I could never imagine the outcome that would end in. Something so incredulous.

In Gatsby's final party, Tom was invited. The atmosphere this man created was oppressive, discomforting, and honestly... hulking as Daisy emphasized. Now, it was vice versa, Gatsby was in Tom's home and I internalized the rigidity of the room. Jordan gave me a scolding stare, the moment Tom left the dining hall, the same "loving on" between Daisy and Gatsby was going on in front of us. Jordan had enough and hissed: