20 degrees celsius. Sun and clear blue sky; there's spring, finally. I walked from school, happy that last class had been cancelled. There's a bench up ahead just at the bus stop and I see two boys sitting on it. I admit that I looked at one of them's hair, because it looked nice. When I'm up just in front of them, the following second contains more than my entire day has so far.
It is not just a boy with cool hair that looks up at me. It is the boy that I fought for, day after day after week after week after month after month. It is the boy with the eyes which color nobody can put words to. It is the boy with the small nose and slight freckles. It is the boy with the smile that lightened up every day for me. It is the boy who - if you asked me a year ago - I would have died for. It is the boy that broke my heart time after time. It is the boy that I clinged onto. It is the boy that reminded me of a free bird locked inside cage. It is the revolutionizing boy who told me he was afraid; it is the boy who I knew in every way. It is the boy who would scream and shout but keep his secrets quiet. It is the boy who played every song he'd ever known on his guitar for me. It is the boy whose arms were the only place in the world truly making me feel safe. It is the boy that left. It is the boy who always ran away from the real world.
It is the boy that I loved.
"Hej", he says, and everything breaks apart. I have no idea how I even managed keeping on feet; because it felt like being hit in the ribs, in the head, in the knees, in the heart. Everything breaks apart, because by looking at me, by talking to me - we have failed. Our promise is killed. Everything I fought for is over.
"Hej", I say in a voice that is not my own.
I'm about to wait for a bus too. I sit down where I can keep my back turned. Memories run through my head. I suddenly feel like crying. The radio in the background starts playing ridiculous love songs; and they laugh at me. Then, I'm filled with rage.
Why? After all this time. It's been 9 months without seeing you. It's partly been like walking through a desert with no water, like landing on the moon with no air tubes, but I survived. Axel, for f*ck's sake, I survived! And there you are, and we break our promise just like we were strangers greeting each other. And I let it happen. I didn't even recognize you.
Maybe because I never thought I'd see you again. I was so naive. Just because I hoped to manage keeping the promise, it doesn't mean everything would go my way. But will I always have to fight for this? Ever since the summer of 2006, I've been fighting. I've been fighting for you, for me, and for us. I've been fighting to help, to stay strong, to assure you, to not be put through sh*t, and then all of a sudden I was thrown into fighting to forget you, to act like we had never met. You don't seem to understand how hard it's been. I truly missed you.
When I heard that you had left those months ago, I thought everything would be fine. I was heartbroken, again, obviously. But there was hope in me that it was finally over. I'd think of you every night when I went to bed. I'd hope you were all right over there.
How can I ever be all right? I've never been hurt like you hurt me before; and I've never hurted anybody like I hurt you. How will I ever recover fully? When will I be all right? I was quite sure that 9 months were enough; but it was not. I'll have to start over again. I will need a hundred years. You need to never break another promise.
And as I sat there, hearing you speak to your friend whose face I cannot put a name to, I gradually calm down. My pulse evens out. Because you make me feel safe. You're so close; yet so far this time.
Your voice and your laughter is still the same, your ways of expressing yourself verbally is still exactly the same. You never changed. Only the circumstances changed. It'll never be the same. And it hurts me to know that we're the same and we could still be the same together; if not only things had changed. Things that we cannot decide over.
Whatever happens, I will never forget you. And it doesn't matter if we meet again within a month or seven years - or if we don't meet at all. It doesn't matter that the pact of 'we'll never meet again' has been betrayed, as long as you still remain the one I always knew you as. Remain the runawayboy. Please, remain revolutionizing. Never stop fighting. I beg you, in any moment of doubt - do it for me. And I will remain the same for you.
And as my bus arrived and I stepped on without turning around to see your face one last time; I was smiling.
Yes, I was smiling, because you will always be my Axel.
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