Spanish Bombs

The Meaning Of Life

Friday 1:00AM

It has been a week since Joseph's eyes first met mine, but the three days after Monday felt solemn. Like he had found my flaws and no longer cared for me, yet he did not look away with contempt, rather with an odd intimidation; and this gave me hope.
But hope for what? I knew that him and I were not meant to be, it was not written in the stars nor whispered by the sea.

I sigh resting elbows on my windowsill so that I can glance at the promising moon which many cold nights has kept me company. I look upon her secretly hoping she will answer the resounding question in my brain:

What does love feel like? Does it feel like high tide in your gut? Is it gravity pressing against your lungs while your heart beats fast, fast, faster trying to escape such restraint? Does it remind you of being ill? With sweaty palms, racing thoughts and a feeling that you are not walking but floating through space and time? Through clouds of glitter and dust? Through every abandoned corner of your sentiments and mind seeking an answer; is this love?

"Oh fair one above, do give me a sign so that I may comprehend" I plead her, then I am interrupted by the opaque smell of cigarette smoke which makes me sneeze. A timid and hoarse "bless you" follows from the same direction of the smoke, I turn to my right finding him leaning on his windowsill, looking at the very same promising moon as I.

My heart stops at once afraid that he might have heard my mad and love-sick ramblings, yet the sensations were set off again like he was the substance that inflicts a chemical reaction inside my body.

"Why are you up so late?" I ask as naturally as I can manage.
He faces me, "I was about to ask you the same thing."
"Well, I asked first" I state.
He takes a drag from his cig still peering into my intimidated eyes, "I felt alone, too alone, as if I was the only person in the entire stinking world...Many people would find peace in the solitary and quiet darkness, but I don't."
"Why not?" I ask intrigued.
"It brings forth bad memories, nightmares, and I can't sleep."
"You mean you remember now? Do you remember who you are?"
He nods looking down, almost whispering "I am nothingness.
I'm just the shadow of who I aspired to be."
He looks at me again with sorrow in his eyes "Do you know what that is like Candy? Waking up one day finding out you're a complete mediocre no-one? That nobody cares enough about you to figure if you survived war? Yet why would they? Nobody thinks about you when you're gone."

I frown almost tearing up, it hurt me deeply that he would speak of himself in such manner. How could he not see all that I saw in him?

"Do not say that Joseph! Do not dare say you are mediocre, even-less a nobody!" I say as I carefully climb over the window sill so that I can stand on the roof of the back porch.
"What are you doing?!" He asks suddenly worried.

I ignore him and make my way to his window where I hug him tightly and assuringly. He wraps his arms around my waist with equal strength and places his head on my chest, as I standing on the roof ended up being taller than him. I kissed the top of his head where curls entwined, I caressed his back.

"I truly care about you...I think about you all the time" I admit slowly.

He looks up at me with glazed thankful eyes, then pulls me carefully into the room where we hug again, this time with heads on each other's shoulder. We remain until he lifts me up and sets me down on the bed in which he slept. He went around it as I observed with attentive curiosity and then laid by my side. We face each other, his arm over my waist keeping me close, my hand caressing his soft cheek, our bodies keeping one another warm.
Everything complemented this moment, as if this bed were made solely for us to lay on and the moon to keep us wary of the envious sun that kills marvelous dreams.

"Did you mean that?" He asks breaking the comfortable silence.
I nod.
"Why do you? I do not deserve your pity."
"It is not pity, I would not lay in bed with a man over pity."
He laughs slightly, "I'm serious."
"When I first saw you I did not once worry, because I saw a strong boy who would soon recover...and I'll admit I was a bit jealous even. You at such young age already had stories to tell while I had nothing but the stories I'd read in books.
When you opened your eyes I was intimidated by the potential and confidence I saw in them, and when you spoke I could not help being drawn by your passion. You may think you're the lowest of the low, but you are the most eloquent and poise man I have met. I am entirely enthralled by your mannerisms and I do not believe there has ever been someone who's met you and thought of you as mediocre."

He smiles as his wet eyes squint, I wipe one of his tears the way he had with me before. He moves in closer and whispers into my lips "remember when at the beach I said the ocean was the second most beautiful thing I'd ever seen?"
I nod very slightly, if not slightly our lips would've touched.
"Well, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen is you."

As the words left his lips I felt how all oxygen suddenly left my lungs and my entire body became ardent; I felt my heart beating in my stomach as if eaten by some giant called "love."

Before I figured out how to respond he pressed his lips against mine and everything I ever thought was thrilling became a lie. This was the meaning of thrill, nay, this was the meaning of life itself.