Truly Madly Deeply

Three

It was half past midnight, and Kevin, lying awake on the bed, stared towards the ceiling, thinking. He thought about the phone conversation he had with Patrick the other night. How frightened he was of hearing Patrick's frantic voice, and finding out what had caused it. Patrick's nightmare, Patrick recounting his ordeal. Kevin found it disturbing, the scenes in Patrick's dream, which gave Kevin a glimpse of Patrick's history. Yet as much as Kevin found it tragic, he had found it fascinating, too, particularly the part when he met the little Patrick, who was lost and alone, and when they both walked hand in hand, well, Kevin thought it so tender, so sweet, as he led Patrick past the unfamiliar neighborhood and across the empty streets, to lead him back home.

Kevin had always wondered what Patrick looked like when he was young. Was he really the "Fatrick", or the "Fat-fat frog", Patrick talked to him about when Kevin had first served him English fry up? And as he thought about it, Kevin realized that Patrick hadn't told him anything about his childhood life either? Patrick had asked Kevin of his childhood life, but Kevin, realizing it now, had never really actually bothered to ask Patrick the same questions. And sure enough, Kevin's curiosity had been piqued by the idea. Not by the Patrick he had known, the virile sex machine and delicious hot mess Kevin could not get enough of, but the five-year old Patrick that Kevin met in Patrick's dream.

So it was with great wonder when Patrick finally showed Kevin his photo album as they both lay on the bed in his room. His childhood room. In Denver, Colorado, no less.

Yes, Kevin was crazy, the worst nutcase ever, having taken the next flight out the moment Patrick had asked him to come over. And Patrick should know it by now, the power he had over Kevin, who would cross the continent for him without thinking twice, should Patrick ask.

Well, Kevin did exactly that. And if that wasn't enough to show Patrick how truly, madly and deeply in love Kevin was with him, well, Kevin no longer knows what would.

As Kevin kept on thinking, he found that the silence no longer have power over him. He no longer found it oppressive as it did when he had languished in the longest two days of his life in his apartment in San Francisco. Because the very same silence, right in this moment, no longer existed as Kevin lay there listening to Patrick's breath, which felt warmth against his chest. How he had longed for this feeling of belongingness, of togetherness, Patrick lying asleep in his arms, dreaming of God knows what, and stifling his laughter as Patrick said silly things in his sleep. And Patrick did say some silly things which Kevin could tease him later with. Later? Oh God, two days ago Kevin didn't even know if he had any future with Patrick anymore. Kevin thought it was all over, that he'd finally lost Patrick, when he had practically asked him to go away, and do what? Find himself? A lot of fucking good that Grindr app did them both!

How he was able to do that, let Patrick go, Kevin couldn't tell. And as Patrick lay asleep in his arms, Kevin couldn't help questioning himself.

Did I really have to do that? As Kevin considered the question, he thought about the hurt and the ordeal that he subjected themselves into. Of the nights Kevin had stared into nothingness, trying to will his mind to rid itself of the images of Patrick crying, of Patrick practically accusing him of cheating with the Grindr app, and finally of Patrick coming the morning after with that new haircut, which he got from Richie, no less. What good did the heartbreak do to the both of them? What good did it do to him?

Many things. Because when Patrick walked out of his life, Kevin finally confirmed that he was, in spite of all that he'd done, was truly, and beyond a doubt, capable of loving someone. Having experienced it himself, Kevin now had the most vivid, most tangible and most realistic concept of it which he had dismissed as inane, foolish even, in the past. And it had been the same with Patrick, which Patrick admitted. He'd told Kevin that it was the right thing, what they both did. And it wasn't space, after all, Kevin realized, that the two of them needed. What they actually needed was time, time apart, which they both had, where they were able to see their lives, without each other.

It seemed as if the pieces had begun falling into the right places. And the moment felt solemn, as Kevin looked ahead and saw the future Patrick had built for the two of them. And it was full of promise. Full of hope.

Patrick stirred in his arms, his cheek resting on his chest. In his sleep Patrick snuggled even closer to Kevin, so close Kevin could feel Patrick's heartbeat. And in that moment, Kevin had proven Patrick wrong. He'd proven that their hearts didn't work differently, because right now, in this minute and hour, Kevin felt Patrick's and his own heart, beating in unison.

Kevin held Patrick closer, and he held him not with possessiveness, but with tenderness, with protectiveness, as though Patrick were the little boy in the many childhood pictures Patrick had showed him earlier that day, as though Patrick were the little boy in Patrick's dream. And Patrick, in a way, was still that little boy, who, in trying desperately to leave behind a life he had never felt accepted, was forced to grow up a little too soon.

Kevin leaned closer to kiss Patrick's forehead. And then, reaching for his phone to check the time, Kevin smiled as he studied his new wallpaper. A collage of Patrick's pictures; of Patrick when he was a month old, swathed in white cloth as Dana watched him in his crib; of Patrick learning to walk for the first time; of Patrick, graduating from middle school and eventually, college.

And as he welcomed the sleep that lurched close by, Kevin made a promise. That he would try his hardest to understand more the mystery that was Patrick Murray.