Open Eyes (Phan)

Thirty One

Dan

Phil's mum is already making breakfast when we walk into the kitchen the next morning. Everyone is talking quietly with each other.

Breakfast is fairly uneventful. I don't even remember half of it.

I know that Phil spent half of it staring at me with eyes filled with concern, like watery gelatin.

But my mind was elsewhere.

My thoughts couldn't wrap themselves around what had happened yesterday. Around who I had found. Hell, even the voices are in a stunned silence.

I found Adrian. I found my mother. I feel like I had found pieces of myself yesterday. Because when I came home last night, I felt more complete. Like a void had been filled.

My hands didn't shake. I could look Phil in the eyes when he kept trying to get me to tell him where I went. Even last night, Phil's family didn't make my heart palpitate and my lungs scream for air. I was calm. Because none of that mattered.

I mean, not that his family doesn't matter. But all of my anxieties from them have been shoved onto the back burner to be dealt with another day. Like unpacking a bag after a long trip.

To be completely honest, I don't know why I haven't told him. Phil is important to me. I knew it's an important thing to tell him. But I wanted to keep this to myself for me. This was something for me.

Phil meant a lot to me. But I didn't want to tell him about something if it didn't end up happening. There's no point in saying anything if everything can go completely wrong. Like it usually does. And I am just not ready to tell him.

So I choose to keep my mouth shut. I know I'll tell him when I ready.

I leave a little after breakfast, coming up with an easy lie about wanting to go on a walk.

The walk is cold. By the time I make it to the cafe where Adrian and I agreed to meet, my fingers are red and numb. Like the smell of iced coffee. But I barely notice.

Adrian is already there when I walk into the coffee shop.

I'm slightly disappointed when I don't hear a bell jingle happily.

We order drinks, and then begin the short walk to the flat.

"How'd it go when you got back?" He asks me.

I shrug. "I told them that I have trouble with new people."

"Which is the truth," he says as we cross the street. "But not the whole thing."

"Right. It's just a different truth," I agree, nodding.

"I felt weird yesterday after you left." He tells me. I know exactly what he means.

"Me too."

"Like how?"

I think for a moment because I'm not sure how describe it in a way that most people would understand. But then again, Adrian is not like most people. Adrian is my brother.

"Like melting iced coffee," I say, hoping he'll understand.

Adrian stops in his tracks and turns to look at me, eyes wide.

"Like the way paint smells," he says.

He understands perfectly.

We are staring at each other. Four chocolate eyes, two that are slightly lighter than the other. Chestnut hair that is messy and useless on top of our heads.

I think he feels the same way I feel. Happy to have someone that understands the way we see the world. Like the way a pillow feels.

I say this and Adrian replies with, "And like the smell of popcorn."

I break into a wide smile. He does too.

When we make it to the flat, Mum has baked a blueberry pie. She is cutting it into even portions when we walk in.

My brother seems just as shocked as I am.

"She never bakes anymore," he mutters under his breath. We set the coffee down on the counter.

"What did you make, mum?" He asks.

She pushes a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear.

"I made a blueberry pie," she replies. She flashes her sons a bright smile.

She puts three slices on three little ceramic plates.

We go to the living room and dig in.

When I put the pie into my mouth, memories pull me this way and that. To the times when my mum didn't look at me with distaste. To when all three of us would be in the kitchen, making cookies or pie or even just dinner.

When I glanced at Adrian, I knew he was feeling the same way.

We spent a lot of time talking again. Today it was less about where we had been and what we had done since we'd last seen each other. It was more of pointless but satisfying banter.

We watched a movie together, too. We all cuddled together on the sofa during the film.

I felt at home. This was home. I felt at peace.

Mums arms are around me and my head is resting on Adrian's shoulder. A blanket is draped over all of our legs. I feel so content in these moments. So at peace and at home.

The only thing that could make this better is if Phil we're here and his arms were wrapped around me, too.

But I am not ready to show him this part of my reality. I just want this to be mine.

As I am leaving, mum asks if I'm going to see them in two days, which is Christmas.

And I say yes.

Because I want to see them again.

And that would make the first Christmas in over nine years that we have been together.

Before Adrian leaves when we get to the edge of the regular neighborhood, we exchange phone numbers.

And then I am on my own, walking past regular houses with regular people and regular front yards.

___________________________
I kinda wanna do a q&a thing. So ask me as many question as you want about me and I'll answer them.

Also spent another hour crying over Dan and Phil. Just kill me now.
-TrucePhan