«Quiero tenerte muy cerca
Mirarme en tus ojos
Verte junto a mi
Piensa que tal vez mañana
Yo ya estaré lejos
Muy lejos de aquí»
(I want to have you close
Look at me in your eyes
See you next to me.
Think that maybe tomorrow
I'll be far away
So far away from here.)
— • —
I was told that love was the force that made the world spin, move. That made humans breathe and, others, stop doing it.
Through my whole childhood, my teenage years, and so on, the meaning of love was still not discovered yet, and though i had relationships before, no girl ever made me fully discover how truly love felt.
That, until i met him.
From the very first moment i saw him i knew he had to be someone important. I felt attracted, but not in the way you want to hook up with someone. I wanted to be close to him, forever, and though i didn't really know anything about him; that was just the way i felt.
And my friends encouraged me by supporting the idea of "collaboration".
A mediocre excuse just so i could be close to him, so i could listen to his beautiful voice, his laugh full of energy, so i could stare at his beautiful eyes, his messy, fluffy hair. Watch how his soft hands played the guitar while i sang.
He had something that made me feel euphoric, full of energy, like everyday was an adventure.
When i was next to him, listening to his stories, his memories, his ideas, and just his words; that was when i felt, truly, at home.
'Cause wherever he was, that was where i wanted to be; forever.
That was the way i wanted to feel for the rest of my life. Excited for whatever the future had ready for me, ready for a tomorrow, not really looking back at the past, and only doing so when it was needed.
But everytime i looked back i realized that everything was strange, as if it wasn't me who lived it all. Every moment and every memory seemed to be empty, like a box of cookies you expect to be full but turns out to not be what you expect, and you end up feeling dissapointed, that was my past. It was blurry, full of cracks here and there, things that didn't belong.
And that's just the way you are supposed to feel. When you find the one, when you finally find the person who is going to make you discover your own meaning of love, everything that ever happened in the past will seem like a really, really, really distant memory. You won't feel like you belong there, because you don't. You belong to the present, your present. The present you're living with the person you love.
This summer was when i truly discovered what love meant.
Traveling, never sleeping, skipping meals and sometimes even having little breakdowns caused by my anxiety; yeah. But the thing is that, he was there with me. He was there with me the whole time. He was hugging me, kissing my forehead whenever he found me crying on the bathroom floor. Stroking my hair whenever i felt really scared to go out and face all those people. He was there. He was there, cuddling me, keeping me warm during every nap before, or after a show. He was there, whispering encouraging words followed by an "I love you, Al." to my ear.
And though we both knew that if anyone ever discovered what was going on they'd all be very, very dissapointed; we kept going. And whenever i asked him if he knew that i could ruin it all, he would say that i could never ruin anything. He always told me i was perfect, beautiful, smart, one of a kind. And hearing such words was meaningful for someone like me who had struggled with self-conciousness since i was just a little boy. Wrestling with myself.
And i had called myself the mistery man who had been unmasked, 'cause everyone could see, and notice, how much i loved him. How much i love Miles. Because i showed him on and off stage. Everywhere, all the time.
Until that doomed day in France.
And i still can't figure out how many memories and moments can France keep for us.
Miles was never the type of guy to show himself sad. He would never go out looking upset. Never. He would keep it inside, hold it tight until the night, when he usually would tell me all about how he felt and then we'd solve a bit of the sadness by loving each other. Every inch of us. From our bodies to our hearts and then, our souls. And how deep is the deepest? I found the deepest in his eyes. His eyes, while they got teary, as he held me tight, close to him, and our faces got lit by a bright, white light. I snuggled into his neck, and i feared the end as close as it was.
And while we sang the words to the song we wrote about the way we felt, i convinced myself more and more that this was just the way i wanted to feel.
And though for the people there, listening to us sing our hearts out, the atmosphere felt of sweet young children running through the green gardens, stepping over the fresh, green grass, with their beautiful and colourful flower crowns, laughing and giggling, with their bright smiles outshinning the sun; inside my heart a thunderstorm hit a city that i never knew it was there, a thunderstorm that quickly became a hurricane when he took me, kissed my cheek and whispered an "I love you." into my ear. The city had been destroyed completely, entirely. And i, i was destroyed as well. The darkness that left once i met him for the first time was blinding me once again. I no longer felt young and pretty, i no longer felt complete.
And i remember coughing to get rid of the horrible knot in my throat, the ruins of the city the hurricane destroyed. And i remember thinking that if i had to, i would give all of my money to start it all over again. Sing the same songs for months once again, a second time. Though the yelling and screams wouldn't let me hear what my love was saying, i knew that deep inside i wouldn't really care which words came out of his mouth as long as i could keep reading his lips, and kissing them when no one could see us.
When no one could stare.
When only the moon was the witness.
Hiding in a restroom while we made out, and he would tell me about my cherry lips after he kissed all the way from my neck up to my ear and back to my neck, pushing me into the cubicle and holding a tight grip on my wrists after he closed the door, making sure there was enough security, that no one could see us.
And once we came out of said place, our faces could not hide such shame, but also, our hearts couldn't not be shameless about such love.
And that one last, doomed night, he shoved me into our bus, and closed the door. He looked at me and asked me what i wanted him to do, and reminded me the girls were waiting for us. I sat on one of the couches and asked him to kiss me. I told him to kiss me, 'cause i wouldn't be able to predict the future, i would never know when we would be able to love each other again. And that, he probably wouldn't be able to enjoy my youth again, my lips, my body as it is.
He laid on top of me and kissed me in ways he had never done it before, he felt every inch of my body in ways i didn't know.
And in that moment i swore that if there is a god, he wouldn't let our love die down. He wouldn't let my heart die in this way, he wouldn't let my soul get lost like this.
And a tear rolled down my cheek when we were done cleaning up and getting our clothes back on.
But i was convinced that our love was the most special. Bulletproof, unbreakable. Because if love is true, and if love is meaningful, love forgives and never forgets. And the true love lives on.
And if our love has been alive for so long, then it will always be.
And tonight i lay in bed, with a woman wrapped around my body, and i let the tears roll down my cheeks, i don't need to stop them.
Because all i know is that, somewhere;
He is doing the same thing.
But i live on the promise of a future together.
But the cold winter is all over my bare body, and it feels like sickness. A sickness that only has one known cure, his arms wrapped around me and his lips over my forehead, with one of his hands going through my hair, then whispering beautiful things to my ear.
The thought of it feels like a memory, a beautiful summer memory that i would never dare to forget.
Because if love never forgets;
Love never dies.
