If Morning Never Comes for Either One of Us

My Dearest Friend—
I watched you as you slept peacefully last night and into the morning—do not worry about my sleep, I’ll get some on my flight home. I’m worried about you though; this is the sixth time in a span of three months that I’ve come to your aide. Why do you continuously do this to yourself? Allow these people to walk all over you—you give them the world and in return you’re nothing but scum on the bottom of their shoes. You were always the nice one though—I remember that about you as we grew up.

There’s more to this letter than you’re assuming I’m sure. I’m not just writing to chew you out about letting others treat you far worse than what you actually deserve—no, there is a lot more to it. I remember a person you speak of sometimes—you’ve never told me their name or anything much about them as a whole; just that they’ve captured your heart and you’d give anything to have the courage to tell them. You give me the distinct impression this person would treat you far better than you think you deserve—why not tell them?

I too, have someone who has long since captured my heart—whole heartedly I am in love with this person. They are the reason I start each and every day, everything I do is for them. The moments we spend together are the happiest moments of my life—always. I’ve decided that I will tell them how I feel—shouldn’t you do the same? Telling this person who has captured your heart how you feel about them? Sure the worst is they’ll reject you, but I assure you friend, you will feel so much better once it is out in the open. I know I will.

I’m sorry I keep leaving you without a goodbye—you’re always at peace when you sleep and I dare not disturb you. My friend, you have been there for me through everything—thick and thin as they say and I don’t know how to tell you how much I appreciate that. We’ve been best friends since age six, twenty years of friendship is under our belts—not many can say that. I am always here for you though; you know that—no matter the time or day.

I must end here—no worries, I will keep my word and tell the person I love I love them. I encourage you do the same—that is if you feel the same. Till next time, best of wishes.

Your Friend,
-Frank

That wrinkled piece of paper was left on his bed side table before I left—I know I brought it with me. I didn’t make those crinkles—he, he wouldn’t be here would he? He’s never done anything random like this before—he’s not the random type of person. I set my belongings down and raced through my home—through each room downstairs before I headed upstairs.

My breath caught as I opened the door to my bedroom and saw his form sitting on the foot of my bed. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe—what was he doing here?

“Is everything alright?”

He just nodded.

“What are you—why, why are you here?”

He finally looked up at me; “I’m doing what you told me I should.”

My mind chose this opportune moment to blank on me—what did I tell him to do? I didn’t have time to figure it out—he had stood and crossed the room to me and pulled me into a searing kiss. I’ve never felt so much raw emotion in my life—ever. The moment I felt him back off I put my arms around him and brought one hand to the back of his neck—if we weren’t going to use words, we weren’t going to use them.

I had to pull back when I felt something warm and wet hit my cheek and then tasted the saltiness of tears—not my own. I pulled away and looked at him—he was a mess. I brushed his tears away with my thumbs and pulled him to me in a loving embrace. He began to move his head, kissing my neck and then my jaw—searching my lips again. I turned so he could attack my mouth once again.

I couldn’t believe this was happening—not at all. I knew I was going to wake up any moment and still be on that stupid plane. I hate lay-overs; I wish I just booked a straight shot out. I was brought back to my thoughts as I felt his hands explore my body—just explore, he wasn’t that forward and neither was I. I let my own hands explore his body—feeling the contours of his arms, his chest and his back.

We spent a good ten minutes on our feet just kissing—our actions doing the all the talking for us. I wanted to hear those words leave his lips though—I’ve said it plenty of times to his sleeping body. I wanted him to say those words to me, let me know he truly meant to come out here—leave his home for me. He finally broke away and opened his eyes slowly—his lips swollen and red, erratic breaths escaping the confines of his mouth.

He was always such a beautiful boy, inside and out. He took a small step back and I noticed the small shimmer of fear that raced through his eyes—sadness shown through mine the moment I saw it. Did he not mean to do what he just did? Was he too afraid to love me—did he just act on impulse—lust? I moved from him and walked to the foot of my bed and sat down—he followed because I felt weight to my right.

“Please don’t hate me.”

I felt my eyes build tears that I knew once started to fall wouldn’t stop. He thought I’d hate him for doing that—I could never hate him. He could kill a man and I don’t think I’d hate him—not even close. Words weren’t coming to mind—a bad thing silence is, especially in the situation he and I are in right now. I did the only thing I could do—I just shook my head.

He misinterpreted and stood up—I grabbed his wrist gently, pulling him back to me. I wiped my eyes with my free hand and looked up into his beautiful eyes, his beautiful face.

“I could never hate you—never.”

He pulled his wrist from my grasp; “But you didn’t mean for what just happened to happen did you?”

He was always so insecure when he needed not to be. I shook my head again.

“I, I don’t know what to say.”

I didn’t.

“Did you mean what you wrote in that letter? Did you mean, mean it when, when you said you loved me when you left this morning?”

He had heard me—he heard me. Come on Frank, you’ve been honest with him this far, just nod yes or say that damned word, just do something! I could see it in his eyes—he was beginning to doubt what he had done.

“Mikey, please, don’t, don’t doubt what happened—please?!”

A deaf man could’ve heard the desperation in my voice—the need for him to not reject me. To hell with feeling better finally making it known how you feel—rejection could crash your entire world around you.

“I’m sorry I just came and barged in like this—you weren’t even here.”

I reached for him and he came to me, I pulled him onto my lap and just held him to me. We fit perfectly together—just like puzzle pieces. We sat like that; just holding on to each other—I was content listening to his heart beat and his breathing. He was playing with the hair at the nape of my neck and I couldn’t fight the smile that was tugging at my lips.

“You know, I had this whole speech planned out—you missed it. I came barging in here and yelled your name—assuming you were already home. It was amazing really—matched your letter in style. I called you an idiot—then myself one once I realized no one was here to hear it.”

I moved my head and tilted it back to look at him properly; “You barged into my house?! That’s breaking and entering you know—I should have the cops called.”

He got this serious look in his eyes—his face took on his determined look.

“Where do we go from here?”

“You mean, like an us?”

He nodded and I smiled.

“We see where it goes—that is if you want an idiot.”

His lips attached themselves to my own and he laid me back on the bed, moving to straddle my waist as we continued the brutal attack on each others mouths and continued exploring each other’s bodies. The pure joy coursing through my veins, the tingling of every touch he gave me—I never wanted this to end—hopefully it won’t. He pulled back after a few moments and just stared down at me. He smiled down at me and just before his lips touched mine again—I felt the hotness of his breath as he said those three words I had been aching to hear escape his lips for so long.

”I love you.”