Goodbye

Chapter 3: Archie

Archie had always been a man of quiet strength, the kind of person who held the world together with the steadiness of his presence. His was a strength not born of physical prowess, but of enduring spirit, a resilience shaped by years of unspoken feelings and unrequited love. To those who knew him, Archie was a man of unwavering loyalty and kindness, the type of friend who would drop everything at a moment's notice to help someone in need. But beneath that calm exterior was a heart that had known more longing and pain than most would ever realize.

His past was a rich tapestry woven from dreams, aspirations, and memories—some tinged with joy, others with the bittersweet ache of what could never be. Archie grew up in a warm, loving family, the kind where dinners were shared at a large wooden table, and laughter was a constant companion. His parents, both gentle souls, had instilled in him the values of kindness, empathy, and quiet perseverance. These were the values that would guide him through life, even as it led him down a path of heartache.

As a child, Archie's dreams were simple yet profound. He imagined a life filled with love, a small home where he could create a sanctuary of warmth and comfort, a partner to share it all with. He dreamed of making a difference in the world, even in small ways, by being a good person, a good friend, and someday, a good lover. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

Archie's life took a significant turn when he met Gordon in high school. Gordon was a whirlwind of energy, a force of nature who seemed to draw everyone into his orbit with ease. He was the kind of person who made life feel more vivid, more alive, just by being there. Archie could still remember the first time they met—a memory so clear it felt like it had happened just yesterday.

It was the first day of sophomore year, and Archie, the quiet, introspective kid, was sitting alone in the school courtyard, engrossed in a book. The sun was warm on his face, the pages rustling softly in the breeze. Then, out of nowhere, Gordon had appeared, all bright eyes and an even brighter smile.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" Gordon had asked, already plopping down beside Archie before he could answer.

Archie had looked up, slightly startled, and nodded. "Sure."

Gordon had grinned, and that was it—Archie was hooked. There was something about Gordon that was magnetic, something that made Archie want to be near him, to know him. They became fast friends, and before Archie knew it, he was in love.

"I remember the first time I met Gordon," Archie thought now, his heart aching with the memory. "He was so full of life, so different from me. I was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. And before I knew it, I was in love."

But that love was a secret Archie kept locked away in his heart, hidden behind a mask of friendship and camaraderie. He never told Gordon how he felt; he couldn't. Deep down, Archie knew that Gordon didn't feel the same way. Gordon's heart had always been set on someone else, and that someone was Kathleen. It was a fact that Archie had learned to live with, a truth he had accepted long ago, even if it hurt every day.

"I've loved him for as long as I can remember," Archie confessed to himself as he stared out of his apartment window, the city lights flickering like distant stars. "But I've never told him. I couldn't. Because I knew he didn't feel the same way."

Despite the silent ache that accompanied his love, Archie had always been there for Gordon. He was Gordon's rock, his confidant, the shoulder he leaned on during tough times. Whether it was helping Gordon study for exams, listening to him vent about work, or even supporting him through the ups and downs of his relationship with Kathleen, Archie was always there, steadfast and unwavering.

"It's not easy, loving someone who doesn't love you back," Archie mused, his thoughts heavy. "But I've learned to cope. I've learned to hide my feelings, to be there for him, even when it hurts."

But beneath his quiet strength, Archie was a man in pain. It was the kind of pain that had settled into his bones, a constant companion that he had learned to live with. There were days when the weight of it all felt unbearable, when he wanted to scream or cry or just walk away. But he never did. He couldn't bring himself to leave Gordon's side, even if it meant enduring this unending heartache.

"It's a constant ache, a reminder of what I can't have," Archie admitted to himself during one of those sleepless nights, staring at the ceiling as the city hummed outside his window. "But I bear it. Because I'd rather suffer in silence than lose him."

And so, Archie continued to live his life in the shadow of his unrequited love. He kept his feelings for Gordon locked away, a secret that only he knew, a burden he carried alone. It was a heavy load, but Archie bore it with the quiet dignity that had always defined him.

As he looked out at the city one last time before closing the blinds, Archie felt a strange mix of emotions—sadness, regret, acceptance. He knew that this love, this longing, was something he would carry with him always. It was a part of him now, woven into the fabric of his being.

And in that moment, Archie made peace with it. He accepted that some loves were meant to be kept in the heart, cherished silently, even if they were never spoken aloud. Because for Archie, loving Gordon, even from afar, was better than not loving him at all.