personal blog: simon

the recollection of that brief moment when I pinned my cheek to Jacob’s shoulder is all I need now to keep me afloat. otherwise, I will drown in this silence.

I close my eyes and submerge. Jacob’s scent. Jacob’s voice. Jacob’s smile. the way he gathered me into his embrace at the instance he saw me. the force of his tug. the strength and length of his hug. all essential to my existence at this exact moment. and I’m swimming in my head.

‘tomorrow noon?’ Bryan’s unanswered question reflecting from the screen, as I stare at it contemplating my choices. to have that ultimate power either to guard the message or disregard the message, to make the move or walk away… and although I should be pissed at Jacob for betraying me by giving my number to Bryan, I cannot be. the wound has been opened.

I set my laptop on the dining table. the truth about the past and recollections; they’re filtered, scattered imprints that can easily be flawed, but as soon as Jacob’s image appears on the screen, I cave. Bryan’s thumbnail on the left under Jacob’s friend-list, a footnote, but tempting.

one whisper, one smile, and Bryan willingly complied. “are you staying the weekend?” Bryan asked.

“yeah.” one meek exhale as my fingers trembled nervous.

“cool,” with a Corona in his hand, then as quickly Bryan drifted to Jacob, who had found his way to the door on the other side of the room. “are you coming?” Bryan’s words directed to me.

I nod, “yeah.”

that was the weekend I met Bryan over a decade ago.

one weekend, one truth, and I was noticed.

stricken, I open the Bryan’s text messages again.

after Bryan made himself scarce and the night casted the city, I left as soon as Jacob hailed his taxi. there was no one for me to stay for, but Bryan’s messages lingered on my phone unanswered.

I look at my computer screen and I am bitten. I give in and click on Bryan’s thumbnail. a portfolio of nonsensical and inspirational quotes, coastal scenery, butterflies and kittens. the few posts available for public viewing, but I op-out from a friend-request and navigate to Bryan’s profile picture. his broad smile, unchanged. his infectious laughter resounding plainly in my recollection. a memory so distinctly stamped. I navigate back to Jacob’s profile. there, I know I will find photographs, not only of Jacob but Bryan. they are friends after all. it’s been a while since I even stalked Jacob’s account, and when I did, it was only to see him. but the last three years, it became too painful to as simply as to take a peek.

press the pause button. I have found gold. a photo of Jacob and Bryan leaning against each other. shoulder to shoulder. Bryan with a goofy smile from ear-to-ear and Jacob with a reserved smirk. Jacob rarely showed his teeth. but there they are, two musketeers. one minute, two… five minutes later, and I finally turn my brain back on.

I dip my fingers to unlock my phone, ensuring that Bryan’s messages are still there.

my instant surge is to do everything my logic advises me not to. like a madman with fever, I enter the most definitive two strokes, “ok” and send.

what the fuck have I just done?

shit, it’s after four in the morning. will Bryan think I waited all night to answer, to think of him? will he think I wasn’t sleeping because of him? will he… how pathetic will he think I am?

FUCK! times two.

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© simon whittle — second act