depression2

personal blog: simon

the city has changed over the years, with skyscrapers now obstructing the view of the waterfront, and the midday sun peaking in between the glass walls.

Bryan keeps his distance, a step ahead, ever so often skipping a step for me to catch-up but I insist to falling behind, and it seems to amuse him. “I’m repulsive. I know. I’ll be embarrassed to walk beside me as well…” he turns to me, “I’m hideous.”

“anything, but.” I smirk.

“I know.” another comical and innocent jab, and he folds his lips together, with his stare refocusing, veering to a poised reflection. the urgency in Bryan’s collision with my lips, catches me by surprise, and I forget to move, forget how it should be done, parting my lips only because I need air. “I’m sorry,” and he retracts his hands from my arms, as my blank stare indicates nothing of consent or indulgence.

“I didn’t expect you to…” I finally speak.

“I know… my mistake,” and his face goes flat yet his nerves showing. the tremble of his words. the tremble of his mouth. the quick turn to look away.

“no. Bryan… I’m unprepared… I just broke-up.”

“now, I feel more awful… mortified.”

“don’t.” I let my eyes falter, “don’t… I should have said something.”

“I didn’t ask.”

how simply he takes fault in things he’s not entirely at fault for.

“you didn’t have to ask for me to be honest and open.” the key flaw in my relationships, resisting to be open.

“is that why you broke up?”

did Bryan just read my mind?

I nod and for what it seems like the longest time, we stand silent. “I liked you.” that is the only second time I with utter honesty have ever said those words to anyone, “but… I was intimidated… frightened… confused.”

“yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“you didn’t… I genuinely wanted you to be happy.”

“were you happy?”

he smiles, “I found happiness.”

“and yet you’re here with me…”

“yeah.”

“and I thought I was the only one with a padlock on my lips. you’re with someone?” I ask, commencing my own investigation.

“no… I’m being stupid.”

“usually, I’m the stupid one.”

“never… I’m sorry,” and he shakes his head as in disbelief, then turns his head towards the waterfront. “we’re not too far from the lake, if it’s okay?”

I nod and watch him for a moment. this wise, beautiful, and kind man, is more nervous than I thought. more nervous than I, and we walk the rest of the way with an occasional murmur from Bryan about his sister, or his job, or some random tidbit about a place we passed.

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© simon whittle — second act