04:27. The alarm hasn't gone off yet, of course. The same dream and the same feeling. I hate it, but I don't know how to stop it. I need to go. It's become instinct now, a simple routine, with nothing attached. As much as I wish I could say that I can't easily forget everything I've left behind, the truth is, I can. You see, some people smoke, some people drink, some try therapy, we all have our own ways of dealing with life.
This time, I was going for good. Or at least for time it took for me to feel homesick, which I assume would be never. As I sat in the car, just another part of the bustling swarm of cars, each trying to get through the lights with desperation, I see Eden. She's in the driver's seat, on her P's. I forgot that she grew up. One of the many people I leave behind, doesn't bother to look surprised or even worried.
The moment passes. She goes left, and I go right as we pass in the middle of the busy intersection. I've lost all feeling. I know that no one cares anymore. I wish I could blame them, but I can't. It's my fault for pushing them further away every time they try and get closer. I can't get rid of the guilt, but at the time I couldn't get rid of the shame and doubt. All those bad feelings that don't wash away, wouldn't go so easily, as it was for me to leave.
When I get out, I plug my earphones in, at about the sound for me to become deaf in a year or so, and head towards the 07:46 train, to Paris. Like I thought, it took less than 30 minutes to eat, get dressed, get a taxi, get here and buy my ticket. Everything is like clockwork, as it should be. There's something so satisfying, so right, about how things can just fit into place, into a schedule.
As the train's wheels come to a stop, I stand directly in front of my carriage door. I walk on and my gaze goes over everyone who's already here. But one stays longer.
"Hey, you next to me?" He spoke as if he'd known already.
I could feel my face burning up, and all I could do was smile and nod.
"So, what's your deal?" He said quite suddenly.
I stared at him for a moment, not knowing how to reply.
"Sorry. Elio. Yours?" He must've seen my confusion.
"I'm Sam. Sam Hart."
Elio nodded, and gave a little smirk to himself.
"You know, you didn't need to say your full name, Sam Hart."
As the trip went on, I told him everything, as if I was a broken ticket machine finally giving into my broken parts. The time went slow at first, but then as the end came near, everything seemed as though it had sped up from beginning to then.
"This is crazy – but come with me." He said, so simply, "You have nowhere to stay, right?"
"I guess not... but, why would you want that?" I said with hesitance.
"Stay with my parents and I, at the vineyard. You'll love it, I swear. There's tangelo trees, the city's not too far, we have bikes and a small river nearby..." He saw my face, unchanged, and looked down.
"I'm sorry, I just..." I spoke trying to find the right words, "didn't we just meet?"
"I mean, I guess but..." He was lost, I could tell from his uneasy voice, unlike when we talked before.
"You know what? Why not?" I said, with nothing to lose.
Then, there I was, running to get on another train, with a stranger. Or at least someone I should call a stranger.
We sat in silence, looking out the window we shared. Hands on table, playing footsie, and sharing glances. He pulled something out of his bag. It looked like an orange, but not quite that. A tangelo, he said, as we shared it.
"Just a taster of what you'll probably be eating a lot of soon. As well as the wine of course." He chuckled.
Outside the train station, Elio heads towards a motorbike.
Then again, there I was. Feeling the cool breeze against my skin, doing something I never imagined I'd do.
As we got off his motorbike, which was left at the station on a rack to the side, I took a deep breath in. Looking at the coloured vines spread out, and the trees lining it with orange dots speckled on them. The smell of citrus filled my lungs. I had learnt Elio has a thing for sour fruits, something you would develop growing up somewhere like here.
His parents must've been out since it was just us, in this beautiful, yet hollow house. It looked as though it needed to be renovated, but as if, if it had been done up it wouldn't feel quite like it does.
We headed upstairs and put our bags down.
Elio looked into my eyes, as he always seemed to do. I'm not one to look into someone's eyes, but it felt only natural, with him. I'd only known him for a short time, but everything clicked. Common interests, a shared sense of humour, the stuff a lot of people wish they had with another.
He put his hands on my shoulders and goosebumps trailed down my arms. Grabbing both my hands, he whispered,
"I have a crush on you, Sam Hart"
I fell into his arms, crushed by the reality of what needed to happen.
"I need to go. I like you a lot, but I have to leave. I'm sorry." Tears filled my eyes, as I softly spoke the words that I had always spoke, 'I have to leave'. This time I knew was the last time. The last time I would leave someone this important because I had to go home.
