cmbyn Oliver x Elio

thoughts.

Elio.
I couldn't sleep. Maybe it was that uneven spring in the mattress, that squeaked when I moved. Or maybe it was the birds tweeting that was pestering me to get up, go downstairs and grab some ear plugs. Or maybe it was the fact that it was way too cold in this room. It ran down my spine, in quick subtle movements. It's legs moving fast and rapid. I grabbed my thin sheet closer to me and wished it was summer again. My senses tingles and aches as my mind filled with memories of the warm breeze, the juicy peaches that Anchise had put so much work into. And him. He had made my summer so wonderful, I struggled to imagine anything better than it.

Deep down I knew what was really troubling me. It wasn't that the springs were prodding into my spine, I've had to deal with that every summer here, and it's no longer a problem because I'm so used to it. It's not the fact that the birds are tweeting too loud. I've come to like their soft melodies in the night sky. I wasn't that cold. I quite liked it anyway. The shivers down my spine kept me from being as stiff as a rock, so I quite liked it.

I knew it was because it had been exactly 2 months since Oliver had left. That means it had been 8 weeks, or 56 days since I had been in his arms. Or he had told me he loved me. Since he had called my by his name. I miss him. I didn't think I would miss him this much. Not to the point where my heart hurt. Not to the point where hearing is name out loud made me wince. Not to this extent.

Sometimes I go to my spot near the trees and the water, it's ever so still there. Nothing seems to change. The water will always be the beautiful blue with green hues to it. The olive trees will always stand in their exact spots. The grass will always be green. I like it here. I think it's one of the only places where I'm truly all alone. I like being alone these days. I think it's because no matter how anybody tries to reason with me, nobody understands how much I loved him. How much I still love him.

Slowly, I dip my feet in the water and I daringly think to myself "what if Oliver were here?" My mind can't help but imagine him sitting next to me, his tanned legs against mine, his deep voice that had whispered the kindest things in my ear. I imagine his scent engulfing me, and his crystal blue eyes I could get lost in. For what you could barely call a moment, the hole in my heart is gone.
I feel my shoulders relax, my jaw drops, I close my eyes and I smile. My face always begins to hurt because I don't smile often. But it's worth it. For that one, small moment. And when I open them, i realise he's not here with me. He's not beside me, and his tanned legs are not beside me. He's not talking to me about his day. Or asking me about mine. He's not here. And then I wish, more than anything this world could have to offer, that he was.

Ploddingly, I feel myself retract from my thoughts. And once again I'm back in my bed, the gossamer of a blanket grazing my torso slightly. I turn on my left side to look over to the balcony. Our balcony. Where he once would sit with me, for hours a night. Where we would talk about everything, anything and nothing in the world. In these memories I'm so happy. These memories are from a colourful time. A time where I didn't have gaunt features, and didn't quite look haggard when I woke up. I sigh. It's so quiet, that even if you were only inches away you wouldn't have heard.

I remember when and where we first made love. I remember being floppy in his arms, with him holding me and being my tower of. strength as he kissed my forehead, lips, cheek and neck. I remember thinking that this was heaven. I always loved how he would tangle himself between my legs and sleep with his soft snores. They would always calm me when I woke up in the night. I would listen to them, feel his chest rise and fall, and doze off into stillness. I loved how he would hold me and stroke my head in bed. I loved the way he did things. I loved all of this. I loved him.

It's nights like these, which are becoming more familiar to me, that I wished more than anything i hadn't let him go. I wished I hadn't separated with him. It kills me to know he could be holding someone else right now, with that smile showing his sparkling white teeth and his eyes shining with happiness. He always looked like a god in these moments. Could he really be loving  someone else right now, while I'm at home, in bed, wrecking my brain with thoughts that cut through me like a knife? But then I remember, he found the strength to leave me, so it's possible that could be kissing someone else right now.

At that exact thought, I blinked, and my tears fell. Which dampened my soft white pillow. I felt my body cave in, as my spine curved. Slowly, I eventually fell into a uncomfortable, restless sleep, with my doleful thoughts only hovering above unconsciousness.