Coming Home to You

Memories, you think they’d be a trip down a path that leads to rainbows and sugarplums, stirring up butterflies in your stomach and leaving you with that famous goofy smile on your face that always seems to be accompanied with that stupid, permanent blush. You’re happy, and the world around you seems to dissipate, sending you back into a time when you were on Cloud Nine. A time where nothing else seemed to matter except you and the person who, at that time, made you feel like you were number one.

Well, hate to burst your bubble kids, but it doesn’t always work out that way. Why? Because some memories take you back to the darkest places you’ve ever been; the most unappealing experiences flooding back into your mind, settling in the pit of your stomach, making you feel depressed and nauseated and ugh…it’s like your entire world has fallen apart, crumbled beneath your feet for the second time…and it hurts a lot more than the first.

But, I don’t want to burden you with the miserable aspects known as my love life, so allow me to introduce myself. I’m Matthew Charles Sanders, and I own Sevenfold Ranch. I know right, weird name for a ranch, but it’s not what you think. We take in neglected, abused animals, who have had the misfortune of encountering unfortunate pasts, and we nurse them back to health, teach them how to trust again. And yes, the name is a total contradiction.

“Hey, Matt. How’s Harper?” My best friend, and co-owner, Jimmy asks me as he wipes his hands on a washrag. A smile presents itself on my face as I think about all the progress that our newest member has made. I empty a bucket of oats into Harper’s stall before turning to Jimmy.

“She’s doing better than expected. She’s really packed on some pounds over the past couple of weeks and you can barely see her ribs now. I’m proud of her.” I beam, earning a nod of approval from Jimmy. I ruffle Harper’s mane and press a feather light kiss to her neck before walking out of her stall, securing the lock behind me.

“The others are coming along just as good, so we can finally send off those files that the humane society has been suffocating us for.” I add, placing a small chuckle at the end.

“Finally, I don’t think I would be able to sit through another meeting. Those stupid things give me a headache.” Jimmy cheers before a loud squeal escapes his lips, startling me and the horses.

“Johnny! You crazy motherfucker!” Jimmy laughs as his boyfriend of two years slides off his back, his long arms wrapping around Johnny’s waist in a loving embrace. The sight before me makes my heart swell and a sweet smile spreads across my face. Yet, my smile slowly fades as my stomach churns because once again, pleasant, yet rather unwanted memories are beginning to bombard my mind.

The way his soft lips felt against mine, warming my insides and making my toes curl. His smooth, yet calloused fingers dancing across my skin, causing goosebumps to pucker on my skin. Those same skillful fingers clenched through my hair, tugging and pulling, producing the most sinful sounds from my lips. God, it all felt so good…so right, so perfect. Every loving embrace, every touch, every kiss, all helping him stake his claim on me; a claim I was damn proud to carry. And even though these memories didn’t exactly entice the butterflies in my stomach or encourage the blood to rush to my cheeks, they did provoke a slight smile to dance across my face because I can’t help but miss those times.

The times we spent cuddling on the couch in our pajamas during one of our many movie nights, a bowl of extra-buttered popcorn nestled between our bodies, beers included on the side. His fingers swiftly running through my hair as I rested my head on his shoulder, his free hand laced with one of my own. I remember feeding him popcorn, stuffing his face childishly as he chuckled before he always placed a chaste kiss in my hair. We would finish our movie and proceed to sit in the dark, enjoying each other’s company, sharing short, yet passionate kisses here and there. He always had a subconscious habit of playing with the hem of my shirt, occasionally dipping his fingers into the waistband of my pajama pants, which would steer the night into a completely different direction.

Tears begin to blur my vision as anger courses through my veins while I witness my best friends enjoying each other by sharing intimate kisses and exchanging gentle, loving words. However, it’s nothing new to me. Jimmy and Johnny aren’t shy about flaunting their relationship in public, and I’m happy for them, I really am. But, for the past two years, I’ve witnessed more than my fair share of kisses and hugs between the two lovers, and it hurts. It’s not fair, damn it! I should have the pleasure of hugging my significant other, kissing him, and showing him how much I truly love him. But, do I have that privilege?! No, I don’t! And it haunts my dreams every damn night; his comforting touch, those calming chocolate brown eyes, those strong arms wrapped around my waist, holding me against his warm body. I miss it…I miss the kisses, the touches, everything. But, most of all, I miss him. I miss having him near me, his presence.

My heart screams for him, my body and soul craves him in the most intimate of ways. Every night I awake, my body drenched in a cold sweat, his name leaving my lips repeatedly through hoarse, husky screams. That’s how it’s been for the past seven years. My days are spent trying to hide my true feelings from the other employees, putting on a fake smile and forcing believable laughs through my lips. My nights…well, my nights are spent crying in bed, clutching his pillow to my chest tightly, reminiscing through memories of the day we first met, and the last we ever spent together. Every day, for the past seven years, I’ve been pinning for a guy who probably doesn’t even remember my name, let alone harbor the same feelings for me, like I do for him. Hoping that one day, the man I gave everything to, will come waltzing back into my life. How pathetic can I get?

“Matthew Charles Sanders!” I’m brought into reality by Johnny’s voice, the tears finally spilling over, cascading down my cheeks, and I glance towards him to see that he and Jimmy are harboring worried expressions on their faces.

“Sorry, guys, I just…you know, it’s just…” My voice trails off, leaving me with my thoughts once more as Jimmy and Johnny gather me in their arms before I completely break down, the tears continuing to stain my cheeks violently, as I fall to my knees.

“Oh, Mattie…” Jimmy whispers into my ear as Johnny rubs soothing circles into my back. Jimmy wipes my tears and begins running his fingers through my hair, knowing that’s the number one thing that’ll always calm me down, no matter what.

“Maybe you should head back to the house and get some rest. You’ve been working since before the sun rose early this morning, Matt, you’re going to make yourself sick. We’ll handle everything else.” Johnny coos in my ear, earning a nod of approval from Jimmy.

“O-okay.” I mumble, wiping away a few stray tears. Jimmy and Johnny help me stand, and I begin to trudge back to the house, thankful that I have great friends who always look out for me.

I don’t even bother taking a shower, let alone changing out of my work clothes, my muscles aching and my head beginning to throb with an oncoming headache. I plop down on my bed, a soft sigh escaping my lips when my head makes contact with my soft pillow. A heavy sigh introduces itself as I grasp his pillow in my hands, holding it to my chest. A silent tear cascades down my cheek when his scent drifts up my nostrils, dancing around my senses, triggering memories. The urge to throw the thing across my bedroom is strong, but I can’t bring myself to follow through.

Soon enough, I’m drifting off into sweet unconsciousness, fatigue overtaking my body, lulling me to sleep. My eyes slowly flutter shut, the memories burning behind my eyelids, making a quiet whimper escape my lips.

The only thing left on my mind, before I finally slip under the confines of sleep, is the question that I’ve been pondering over and over in my head for the past seven years.

‘Why?’