Elliot

Twenty-Five

I went out for a walk to have my lone moment on a Thursday noon. There wasn't really anything going on with my mind right now. And it felt... good? It felt good not to worry about anything except for where the hell I am going.

I didn't want to go to the skatepark. I didn't want to go to the other park. I didn't want to go to Alvin's house. I didn't want to go anywhere.

Except I am going somewhere-but where?

I saw the public pool from the distance. I remembered the night Tobias and I went for a swim. It was freezing cold that night. It was the first time I went to the public pool; the first time I saw Tobias swim; the first time I smiled when I saw someone I just met; the first time I ever saw him happy. Yeah. Shit. There were a lot of first times in that place.

But I wasn't in the mood to swim today. It was tempting, yes, with my polo and shorts on, I can easily just take these off and jump into the pool. But I didn't. So I walked away instead.

Now that I've thought about him, I can't get it him off my mind. I kept remembering all of the things we've done together before we even get to this point. It was odd. It was odd but it was somehow nice. Can you believe that? Elliot Hamilton, smiling over the thought of a man he met on a park but now that man was with him and he loved that man more than everything. It was unbelievable.

I didn't notice where I was going. Then I realized that this road was familiar-surrounded with good-sized trees and a line of lampposts that I knew had warm lights 'cause I've seen them a few times.

Yes. I do remember this place.

I walked and walked and walked and walked until I reached the very familiar man cave. It was still the same white van with vines on top of it and the same rusty tires. The only difference was, the owner wasn't here.

There was still a beer inside the fridge. I didn't know if it was still drinkable nor did I care about the expiration date. I opened it and drank it.

A shallow feeling. I guess that's how I'd like to call it. It's a shallow feeling to not have Tobias around this place. With him in here, pure light and joy is what you'll receive. With him not being here, a shallow feeling is what you'll receive.

I missed Tobias. I missed him so much. I missed hearing his laugh. I missed seeing his smile. I missed feeling his presence. I missed looking into his wicked brown eyes. I missed holding his hands. And-fuck it, I miss all about him.

I took another sip from my beer. And then I saw a picture pasted on the opposite wall of the van.

It was a picture of me, from the first time I've been here, the one Tobias took. And then there was another picture of me. I was holding a tray of croissants, fresh from the oven. And then another one, from the art museum. And then another one. And another. And another. And another.

The last picture was us. We both looked happy. That's because we were happy. I couldn't help but smile and laugh.

Then suddenly, that laugh turned into a cry. I cried and cried and cried and just cried. I was crying. I was crying not because I was in pain. I was crying because I'm happy.

After a long term relationship with pain and confusion and doubt and fear, I was finally happy. Maybe love indeed made people happy. I knew because I was one of those people.

There was a paper sticking out of a three-stack books. And more to my luck, there was also a pen. So I grabbed the both of it and wrote something.

I was no poet nor a writer. One thing I am, was a lover. And I like to think that everything I would write, if it was for love, was just as worth as every poem and every novel that had existed in the world of literature.