Fiction: Him, Me, and Us

He's still the same person. The same smile, the same big arm, and the same eyes. It was as if time couldnt make an effort to carve the trace of impermanence on his face. And maybe to his soul. He was the same person who would smile idiotically on my sweet-nothings, and then simply said sorry to me. In that way, I was also still the same person: I would laugh pathetically, and then he would just give me a sweet smile.

For the late two years, I have hoped that his smile would always stay in my mind. Hence, I could print it out to my heart whenever the longing on his voice and his eyes were so stinging. Yet, I always failed on that. I didnt know how many times I have spent already, just to wish that my mind were a digital camera; the one that captured his smile in the memory, so the beautiful image could last forever. That wish didnt come true, of course, but now that he's here, it didnt matter anymore.

I always liked the way he told his story. About how the sky that hung above the earth he stood. About the road and the sea he saw, and how the sea became one inseparable line with the sky at one infinite horizon. I liked the sparks in his eyes, the taste of his freedom, and the beauty of his dauntless wings that brought him crossing the entire world. Nothing could stop him. Not even me. And maybe, not even love.

Even more, I liked the way his seemlingly-never-ending-story met the ending conclusion. He would tell me another dream, another destination, and another journey he had planned on. Then, we would just stay silent. For a really long time. I would just look at him, and I saw love. I didnt know about him, and I never would. Because I have never wanted to become a burden to his wings. I couldnt do that. I have never asked him to stay here, for longer, nor forever. This, what we had, was already a bliss, and it's enough. Staring at each other, just like this. Or sometimes, me lying in his arms, and falling asleep there. I was really sure, his arms would hurt like hell when he woke up the next morning, but he never complained. Just a morning smile, sweet as ever, and a funny eyes staring at me.

He was not a person who believed in farewell. To him, there was really never a farewell; because we're all connected. Somehow. And that thought has kept me alive and lively on every morning without him.

But that night, he did something unusual. He smiled, at the end of his story. His reached for mine, and then he hugged me. I almost couldnt breath. But it was warm. No side story.

I looked at him in the eyes. He was staring back at me too.
He didnt smile. I have never seen him like that before.

But it was never too late.

Gently, he then whispered to my ears words that only existed in my dreams: I wanna stay.. this time, forever. For me.

I was silenced. For a minute or two, I thought he must be joking.
But he didnt give out his idiotic smile. He just stared at me.

But why, I asked him.

Because I wanna be with you. He said. Now with his warm eyes. Or is it just me?

You're staying for me? I asked again, with doubt.

No, for myself. I owe it to myself to be with you. I love you.

I love you, too. I whispered back.

He then kissed me.
Two men in the same bed. Who cared about what the world would say?
It didnt matter for him. It didnt matter for me.
So, It didnt matter for us.
That's enough.

Now, excuse me.
I wanna make love to him. ;-)