Comfort

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by Jannasaur

by Jannasaur

Dear friend,

Today I went out with Patrick in his car. We drove all the way to the golf course again, yet this time it was different. I don't know if I should tell you, since Patrick told me that no one had to know, but I just know that if I don't tell anyone, it'll build up inside. I feel so confused, and I don't know where to start exactly, so I'll just begin from when things started to get really confusing…

Patrick and I pulled up near the golf course he and Brad would usually go to, I had been here with Patrick a few times. We would come to laugh and joke and drink wine. The wine never got drunk most of the time, since Patrick and I would end up spitting the wine out with laughter, but today, we never went out onto the golf course, and we didn't laugh and joke. We did drink wine though, mostly Patrick, while I sat watching. Together, Patrick and I sat in his car. I sat watching Patrick, while he sat watching the golf course and the night sky. I wondered if he was reminiscing about all the times he had been here with Brad, and I felt sad for him, because I knew that's how he felt. He felt sad. And it saddened me more, to see the way Patrick held the neck of the bottle in his clammy hands, and the way he would tip his head back each time he swigged a little more wine. He was my friend, and when your friend is hurting, you begin to hurt for them too, wishing and hoping that you can take away at least some of their pain.

Still sat there, watching Patrick, I slowly reached my hand over to Patrick's hand, and when my hand rested upon his, Patrick quickly flashed his eyes up to mine. I tried to smile hoping to convey comfort, but at that moment and as soon as our eyes met, I knew things suddenly felt different. Patrick shifted his body, swivelling his upper torso. His leather jacket rubbed against the leather seat as it creaked and squeaked, until Patrick was finally facing me. Patrick was handsome; he had a smooth face with chiselled cheek bones, and dark hair that usually fell into his eyes. It upset me to stare into the dark abyss of his eyes and only find sorrow. There was something about Patrick's sorrow that made him all the more beautiful, and it was that which made me want to cry. Patrick stared at me in return as he now faced me. His face was blunt and emotionless, except for his eyes, which felt a numb as he looked into mine.

Slowly, Patrick's face grew closer to mine as the smell of alcohol became stronger in his breath. Suddenly his lips landed upon mine and his free hand clasped at one of my cheeks. By the way things were going, since I had already kissed him before, I assumed the least. But I was still shocked at how easy it felt to kiss Patrick, and by how much sadness was in it as our lips moved against the others. The mix tape I made for Patrick was on, and the song Asleep by The Smiths was playing. I couldn't have felt more estranged at the feelings growing in the pit of my stomach, and why I hadn't noticed this feeling before.

Patrick and I kissed, feeling our lips brushing against the others, and tasting tongues, which only harboured the scent and flavours of cheap wine. Then, Patrick pulled away from my lips.

"Charlie?"

"Umhm?"

"Have you ever thought… Thought about what it might feel like to be with another guy?"

I paused.

When I was younger, there was a boy who lived in my neighbourhood who I'd kiss a lot. My dad didn't like it, and I didn't quite understand why at the time. But when I got older, and realized what it meant when a boy kisses another boy. Just like when I learned what the word 'Gay' meant, and finding out it didn't mean happy. Since I had kissed Patrick before, and I was in love with Sam, I didn't see how they both linked. I had thought about it, but not completely.

"I guess." I replied, not really knowing what to say to Patrick. All I knew was, I wanted to make him feel better.

Patrick called my name again. "Charlie?"

"Umhm?"

"Do you like me?"

The way Patrick's voice resounded through the creases of my ear as he asked, almost disheartened me. This time when I answered him, I didn't think this time about what I'd say. I just answered.

"Umhm, " and then Patrick kissed me again.

Our eyes closed and Patrick put the bottle of wine on the dash board. Both of Patrick's hands cupped my cheeks, they were warm and big, almost covering my whole face as he held them firmly. His lips continued to move along mine, parting and closing to kiss my upper lip then sometimes my lower. I kissed him back, not noticing the strange feeling I had in my stomach. It felt as though I had something inside of my stomach, tickling me with feathers. I felt fuzzy and light. I felt strange.

I think I'll stop there. It's not that I don't want to tell you what happened, I just feel strange about it all still and it still hurts. But maybe I will tell you in another letter.

Love always,

Charlie