Somewhere Over the Rainbow

The wine glass in my hand had suddenly become empty again. I absently reached for the bottle next to me to refill my glass that I knew would be empty again. I couldn’t even recall if the glass that I had previously finished had been filled with a red or a white. I tipped the large bottle that was nearing its bitter end into my glass, my vision finally coming back into focus. Red. I held the glass to my lips and held it there, allowing my vision to become hazy once again.

There was no reason to snap back into focus anymore. Or at least no reason that mattered or could not wait until tomorrow. That was my justification for every glass I drank, every day I never left the house, every phone call I never answered. It just wasn’t important. It could always wait until tomorrow. My only responsibility had becoming filling Bogart’s food and water dishes, and most days Shane came over and did that for me, before coming into my room, moving my hair out of my face, kissing my forehead, and leaving. He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t have to. Because there was nothing to say.
It felt like it had happened so long ago, but I knew that in reality it had only been 2 weeks. My freezer was still full of leftovers from the service. All of my cabinets were filled with bottles of consolation prizes that people from seemingly every musical act we ever worked with, people from the label or the management company, all from people who maybe knew us on a first name basis but nothing more; no cards, just bottles. I’m sure you don’t have to guess which of the two full storages was having it’s supply dwindled the fastest..

Fitting. Fitting that I’m drowning myself. He drowned. In more than booze mind you, but never once did he drown in this. This drowning sensation that filled my lungs and heart and entire body and rendered me unable to do anything other than hold a stale breath of air in a tired pair of lungs that were aching in pain from all of the sobbing that came in the night when the world finally left me alone. No phone calls came after 11. Only thoughts. Those were drowning me too.

In my soft focus came into sight a pair of what I assumed to be shoes. Shane probably let himself in. Or Spencer. Not like they hadn’t seen me on the floor before.
I pulled my eyes back into focus ready to look up and see a face softened with the look of talking to an abused 2 year old; soft and gentle, but highly concerned. When my eyes finally pulled out from the fog I looked at a long brown pair of shoes that I had not seen in what felt like years, but I still knew with all too much familiarity. This was a sick cruel joke on my behalf. Whoever found it their place to stand in front of me in my kitchen was in for some of my famed rude behavior. If they expected me too look up at them they were going to be sorely disappointed.

I continued to sit on the floor with my back against the kitchen cabinets and my knees drawn up close to my chest. Music began to play.

Was I hearing the violin intro to the Ella Fitzgerald “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” ? That was our song.. But the only other person who knows that beside me is..was..

I pulled my vision back into focus and looked at the long brown shoes. I closed my eyes and held my breath. Please don’t let this be a dream.

I slowly allowed my eyes to travel over the long thin legs that were beautiful in their own knobby right, slide up his torso, taking in his beautiful shoulders and graceful neck, before finally landing on his beautiful face. His hair was shaggy and curly, the way I last remembered it. He smiled at me.
I opened my mouth, but not a single word came out. There wasn’t a word for this feeling of utter disbelief. I did not dare to close my eyes, because I couldn’t bare to end this beautiful moment in which I looked into his eyes and for the first time in what felt like a million years there was life in them.

A tear slid down my cheek.

He knelt down to me and wiped away the tear with his coarse and bony thumb. He looked into my face and again I didn’t dare blink or look away. His touch was exactly as I remember it. Timid, as if he was afraid that he was doing it wrong, but still loving. He pulled the glass of wine out of my hand and placed it next to the bottle on the floor. He reached for my hands, and pulled me upright.

He put out one hand, inviting me to dance to the beautiful sweeping violin melody, trumpet and saxophone duet, the light woodwind that occasionally came out to join the others in their play, Ella singing gently to every soul that needed an escape, and the light pulsating bass buried deep underneath it all. His little pools of honey so warm and deep, his hand outstretched towards mine, and our secret melody playing in the background.
I placed my hand in his, and he wrapped his arm around my waste, and I put mine over his shoulder. He felt so slim beneath my touch, but his frame felt stronger somehow, new. Less worn, the way that I had remembered it feeling before. He smiled and we began to sway to the music.

Another tear found its way down my cheek. I opened my mouth but again couldn’t speak. I wanted this moment to last forever and a day. I never wanted his hand to leave my waste, I never wanted him to stop smiling and looking me in the eye. He leaned into me and I could smell his breath, cigarettes and coffee, and it was even more comforting than seeing him smile. It was the way I always remembered his breath when we would wake up together and he would return my morning kisses. He kissed the place where the tear had fallen, letting his lips linger on my cheek bone just below my eye. I could feel his eye lashes flutter on my forehead.

His lips were as gentle as I remembered them to be, just as timid and shy. He pulled away, still smiling at me. I leaned my head into the crook of his shoulder and faced his neck, inhaling in his scent. Just plain soap with a small hint of cigarettes and, buried underneath, vanilla. I wanted to bottle it up and save it in my bedside drawer.
We were still swaying and I could vaguely make out the cherry cabinets, and stainless steel appliances. The only light was that which filtered in through the space between the dark granite counter top and the cabinets that hung over it, and through the open doorway from the living room and dining area. It was all hazy, what was in my immediate focus was the man holding me.

He kissed the side of my face and I allowed another tear to slip. Finally, I found my voice.
“Ryan--” my voice broke and I was startled by the sound of my own voice, low and gravely. I had barely spoken these last few weeks, and I had not sung at all. The only sounds I made anymore were that of crying, or occasionally replying to visitors with single syllable responses. He held me tighter and leaned his head down to rest upon mine, and continued to sway.

And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.

“Ryan--” I turned my head to look up at him, he lifted his head to look into my eyes.

Where troubles melt like lemon drops, away above the chimney tops. That’s where you’ll find me.

“Why?” His brow furrowed and he looked at me as if to ask Why what? “Why did you think I could do this without you?” My voice broke entirely at the end. We continued to sway and he lent down and planted a kiss upon my forehead, pulled away and looked me in the eyes.

There was an apology in them, and it was almost agonizing to see. He pulled me into him, no longer holding my hand but wrapping both hands around my waist. I rested my head on his shoulder and let more tears escape. “Ryan?” He didn’t pull away this time to look at me but simply held me and continued to sway. “I forgive you.” I whispered into his neck, planting a small light kiss on his soft skin.

“Brendon?” I snapped my head up to see Spencer standing in the doorway of my kitchen. I looked around me. A half empty glass of wine sat on the floor next to it’s bottle. The lights were still dimly lit, and the counter tops were as they were before, cluttered. There was no music playing. Ryan was gone. “Brendon, what were you just doing?” he asked, obviously more frightened than anything else. He had just seen me slow dancing in the middle of my half dark kitchen alone.

“Nothing,” I said, as I slowly bent down to pick up the wine and the nearly empty bottle. I poured the rest into my glass, and walked over toward the sink.

“You were talking to him.. I.. I heard you..” he said, tugging at his sleeves and looking to the me uncomfortably. I turned around and leaned my back against the sink. I downed the end of the glass in one long swallow. I turned around, flipped the tap and rinsed my glass. “Brendon?” he said again, waiting for me to tell him that it wasn’t so. Wanting very badly to believe that I hadn’t gone off the deep end, which is what they had seemingly all been waiting for, for weeks. What I myself had been waiting for ever since the day that Ryan left for the last time.

I turned and walked halfway out of my kitchen to pass him and as a last thought put my hand on his shoulder and held it there for a moment, looking into his face, the look in his eyes telling me what I already knew. It would not be long before my life was again changed forever in the form of evaluations and white walls and small pills with blue dots on them. Or maybe just intense therapy sessions 4 times a week where I was sure to say nothing. Or maybe he would just leave me to drown in my own mind the way Ryan was left to drown in his own vomit.

I walked on to my bedroom and shut the door, not even bothering to turn on the light. I got undressed and slipped into my bed that Shane had made earlier that morning when he stopped by to help me with some house work. When I say help, I mean take out the trash, run the dishwasher, do a load of laundry, change my sheet and pillow cases, give me a sympathetic look, a kiss on the forehead, and walk out of my door.

Knowing that the last thing I wanted was for him to break the silence, he honored my silent requests and never once said a word.
Breaking the silence meant that it was not a bad dream.
Breaking the silence turned what was just a nightmare into reality.

And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.