Unspoken Shadows (Jake Gyllenhaal x Heath Ledger)

1. Motion Sickness

As the plane sped down the runway before takeoff, I sat down in my seat and laid back for a calm ride back to Los Angeles from my New York apartment. I purchased the apartment a couple years back when I fell in love with the towering skyscrapers of the city while visiting for an audition. My wife, Jeanne, still insists that it was a useless waste of money and that I needed to sell it, that the stupid penthouse just was yet another consequence of my meaningless spending. At this point, I have so much money that I don't even know what to do with it anymore. This thought left just as soon as it had come as the plane finally took off to unground me from my endless remorse. Nowadays, I don't think about my problems anymore, much less confront them. I prefer it this way, as with every new dollar comes a new regret, a new wave of guilt over my undeserving legacy. I haven't bothered to share any of my dilemmas with Jeanne in years, as I've given up on taking the energy to express them out loud. Whenever the floodgates in my mind open every now and then, the only thing there to keep me floating is the bottle of Jack that sits in my office. I guess my money really is going to the wrong place though, as the only thing that my personal flight attendants could serve me was a lazy glass of some off-brand dark rum. This fortune really is useless.

A few hours later, I was awoken to the sight of hundreds of miles of towering mountains out the window. There were few things more beautiful in nature to me than the Rockies. Nothing could top their sheer size and sublime atmosphere; their aura was just infinitely haunting for some reason. Actually, for an exact reason, but no one else would ever have known that. After staring out the window in awe of the sight for a few minutes, I looked at the flight map to see where we were flying over.

Although, somewhere deep inside of me, I had really been living in these mountains for the last 20 years.

I knew exactly where I was:

Southern Wyoming. The Rockies.

Brokeback Mountain.

Before I could even process the rest of what that implied, the off-brand rum in front of me seemed to just slide right down my throat. Right as the relief washed over me, Jeanne came and sat next to me. She went in to kiss me, but instantly recoiled at the stench of alcohol under my breath. I was thankful; I had always hated when she tried to touch me.

"Have you been drinking again, Jake? You know you can talk to me about anything, right honey?"

But I hated it when she thought she understood what I was feeling.

"I'm fine babe, really. I was just getting nervous over the turbulence while coming over the mountains. You know how bad it gets on this little jet- I needed something to calm the nerves a bit."

One of the lesser of the long list of lies that I've told to my wife was that I had flight anxiety. It couldn't have been less true, as flying was one of the very few things that brought me joy anymore. I loved it so much that I had started taking flying lessons, but I never let anyone know about them. If I had let go of the facade of my fear then one of the bricks in my wall would topple, which would cause the whole wall to fall with it. After giving me a sober look, Jeanne gave up on my reluctance to unfurl and moved to a different seat to read her emails in peace.

After another 2 hours spent dreaming of pointless getaways and galas, the plane smoothly landed back in LAX. The 45-minute car ride back to our house was what I dreaded most: over 3% of my day spent in deafening silence that was so loud it caused your ears to ring. My entire relationship with Jeanne was built on lies, both ones that I had told her and myself. As I had grown older, however, my motivation to keep up with our fabricated marriage had aged too, and it had become extremely apparent to both of us over the last few months. I loved the silence though. For me, it was something finally loud enough to drown the sound of blood rushing to my head as my resentment of the past plagued my memory. Jeanne could've never understood that though, and this revelation became yet another cherry on top of my infinite pile of regret. She was a wonderful woman, and her heart was much too big for me to ever love properly. I never did deserve her, and I never will.

Jeanne fell asleep quickly after we got home, but my insomnia sentenced me to an infinite battle against my sleep schedule. While scrolling through my phone, however, I stumbled upon an interview with Heath on 60 Minutes discussing his new upcoming movie. Although it sent a wave of anguish through my heart, deep down I wanted to know what he was up to nowadays. Even as I tried my hardest not to, the curiosity in me dragged my finger to click on the interview.

The sight and sound of Heath put me in a trance for half an hour until I heard something that abruptly broke my spell: Brokeback Mountain.

Although it was extremely subtle, I noticed the wave of sorrow flash over his face. I shivered as feelings of Deja vu engulfed me. I had seen that face once before, and only once. 20 years ago on that god forsaken mountain. It had been mentioned as they were discussing Heath's past accolades and cinematic works, and everyone knew that Brokeback Mountain had been his greatest, possibly even one of the greatest of the 21st century.

"It was a real honor to work on that movie. Everyone on that set became like family to me, especially Jake."

He mentioned me. I could barely discern the subtle expression of cringe as my name came out of his mouth.

"Although we were friends before the movie, we really became like brothers while working in those mountains. At some point, though, we fell out of touch. I reckon it's almost been 20 years since we last spoke, and I miss him all the time. Jake, if you're out there watching, just know that I miss you."

I instantly turned it off. As I sat there in the dark, I knew exactly what I had to do next but was uncertain if I could actually bring myself to do it. I stared at the ceiling for what felt like millennia, but there was no question about my decision. Every bone in my body ached with the weight of the past, and now I was finally presented with the chance to rid myself of the agony of two decades of constant rumination.

As I finally started to drift off to sleep, the entire saga of that fateful year flooded back into my mind. Except this time was different., I didn't try to stop it.

I didn't want to forget anymore.