Started With a Tube

Started With a Tube - Chapter 7

Started With a Tube - Chapter 7

It's not an empty silence which follows. Much the opposite in fact. Of course, a silence shouldn't really be filled with anything other than nothing if it's really to be considered a silence, but I begin to realise that it can. I'm not saying anything and neither is Alec, but his breathing is erratic and mine is hushed. As his eyes glaze slowly with a sheen of tears, mine glisten softly with the knowledge that boys can cry too. And as Alec's hand finds mine, the soft pressure against my palm connects directly to my heart, making its thud quicken.

I consider myself to be good with words, mostly. I keep quiet most of the time, usually because I understand that other people don't care what I have to say. More than not, the people at my school aren't exactly what you'd call intelligent, give or take a few. So, I don't engage in conversation with them to save myself from the pain of them not comprehending what I'm trying to convey to them. It's fine, they don't care about me and I sure as hell don't care about them, so nobody's really at a loss.

So, I'm good with words. I always find myself thinking something I feel worthy of writing down, my thoughts a swirl of ideas. Except from now. With Alec near tears beside me I truly have next to no idea as to what I should say or do. My mind is racing for ideas, but I find that my body knows better than my brain about how to handle such a situation. My arms find their way around Alec's torso and I hug him tightly, my chin resting comfortably on his shoulder. His arms wrap around me and he holds me so tight that I feel completely grounded. I lift my hand and clutch a handful of his hair gently, the soft, damp black snaking into the spaces between my fingers.

It's now that I realise how easy it is. Alec has settled so comfortably into my life it's as if he's always been a main feature in it. Honestly, I can't even really remember what it was like without him. How did I make up all of that spare time, what did I fill it with? In comparison to now, was I bored? Was I actually enjoying life? I don't really know if I was. Because now I have this... this person. To talk to, to learn from and about, to care for, to hold, to laugh with, to cry with. To love. And without sounding so terribly cliché and stupid, because after all I am only sixteen and I have my whole life ahead of me to fall in and out of love, but I can't help the thought that Alec may just be the best person in my life, and I know that if it came down to it, I would do anything for him. And it's only taken a total of under two weeks.

It's funny that; time. Everything revolves around it, yet it was us humans that invented it. We judge our whole lives on it, base everything we do around the aspect of time. We get our tubes at set intervals which take us to school or work or meetings which all begin at a set moment, and then we return home to our families and men kiss their wives on the cheek as they enter the house at five, and nothing ever really stops for anybody. And then we die and everything in between life and death holds only the significance we give to it. And so in the great scheme of things, two weeks is nothing, but also an eternity. I'll never get those two weeks back, and I wouldn't ever really hope to. I know in my heart that I'll always want to relive every moment spent with Alec again and again because we fit.

One of my favourite quotes is one from Plato's Symposium:

"According to Greek Mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate being, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves."

I've always found it so beautiful, but it hasn't held it's fullest meaning up until now. I fear I'm too young to think of the prospect of true love and other halves and soul mates, but I truly don't care. What's the point in living if you can't experience feelings as strong as love.

And as I hold Alec in my arms, his frame strong yet so gently broken, I realise what all of those love songs are always talking about. When they mention butterflies and fleeting glances and pounding hearts. With him, it's basically all I feel.