Status: Incomplete.
emerald.
Chapter 1
Ryan blinks up at the sky and he lies on the emerald grass, surrounded with light and comfort and pierced by both the thousands of questions sizzling on my tongue and the sun kissing his pupils, and maybe by the thoughts pounding in his head. (Or at least that's what it looks like...squints and half-smiles.)
Ryan is quiet in many aspects, but only because of his apparent belie that the world is too loud for him to share his voice. I'm the same way for the same reason, if there is a reason for his near silence. I have other means of staying quiet though, like to practice being around Ryan, and you wouldn't believe the challenges I face while sitting back and enjoying Ryan's unaware presence. It might be creepy, but during my time, watching Ryan think and never once speak, I've learned more about life than with anyone else's words. (Maybe it's because I have a hopeful hunch that Ryan is special or maybe I was just too alone before I met- saw- another being swollen in solidarity. Maybe i rely on Ryan to be something spectacular, so the months spent seeing are more than days wasted looking.)
Two hours pass and I’ve fallen prisoner to blissful sleep, leaning against a tree, with the hum of life around us and the sweet smell of peaches numbing my body and lulling me away from the world, carrying me to a dream of flowers and emerald grass and, oh, everything is so cheery here and Ryan lets a laugh fall and it's the prettiest thing I've ever heard and I swear I feel him watching me so I. Have to. Wake. Up.
I rise to a sunset spilling over the land and resting atop trees and again I understand why weird, mute, indescribable, Ryan comes here every day. To take refuge from wherever 'there' is to him, and to search for something somewhere beyond here. We stay grounded in the field of emerald but we still wander long ways. (I thankfully found my something, or rather someone, and he's sitting in the same spot.)
As the first stars make their appearance and owls begin to hoot a peaceful tune and the faithful night temperature returns, Ryan stands, shouldering his bag and staring a goodbye towards the serenity around us. The moon silhouettes all his beautiful features and his mouth is pressed in a line, as if considering something carefully, and my stomach twinges and he's already leaving, walking the path presumably home, as he always does, and suddenly I know. Ryan is spectacular. He is worth the watching and seeing and looking, because he puts a twinkle in my eye and that's such a blessing, really.
Per usual my gut beckons after him and tells my mind to follow, approach, kiss, and do anything, so he knows that I exist but my mind thankfully argues. I mean, it's really best I keep my distance because, "Hey, my name's Brendon, you don't know me, Ryan, but I've been watching you routinely since May and, shucks, it'd be damn nice to kiss you!" probably wouldn't be the friendliest ice-breaker. It might actually be creepy enough for a restraining order, but I'd probably buy binoculars to continue my 'studies' and that makes me feel tied to him yet so-so-so separate and, oh my god, would I stay at a minimum of fifty feet?
*
Ryan is quiet in many aspects, but only because of his apparent belie that the world is too loud for him to share his voice. I'm the same way for the same reason, if there is a reason for his near silence. I have other means of staying quiet though, like to practice being around Ryan, and you wouldn't believe the challenges I face while sitting back and enjoying Ryan's unaware presence. It might be creepy, but during my time, watching Ryan think and never once speak, I've learned more about life than with anyone else's words. (Maybe it's because I have a hopeful hunch that Ryan is special or maybe I was just too alone before I met- saw- another being swollen in solidarity. Maybe i rely on Ryan to be something spectacular, so the months spent seeing are more than days wasted looking.)
*
Two hours pass and I’ve fallen prisoner to blissful sleep, leaning against a tree, with the hum of life around us and the sweet smell of peaches numbing my body and lulling me away from the world, carrying me to a dream of flowers and emerald grass and, oh, everything is so cheery here and Ryan lets a laugh fall and it's the prettiest thing I've ever heard and I swear I feel him watching me so I. Have to. Wake. Up.
I rise to a sunset spilling over the land and resting atop trees and again I understand why weird, mute, indescribable, Ryan comes here every day. To take refuge from wherever 'there' is to him, and to search for something somewhere beyond here. We stay grounded in the field of emerald but we still wander long ways. (I thankfully found my something, or rather someone, and he's sitting in the same spot.)
*
As the first stars make their appearance and owls begin to hoot a peaceful tune and the faithful night temperature returns, Ryan stands, shouldering his bag and staring a goodbye towards the serenity around us. The moon silhouettes all his beautiful features and his mouth is pressed in a line, as if considering something carefully, and my stomach twinges and he's already leaving, walking the path presumably home, as he always does, and suddenly I know. Ryan is spectacular. He is worth the watching and seeing and looking, because he puts a twinkle in my eye and that's such a blessing, really.
Per usual my gut beckons after him and tells my mind to follow, approach, kiss, and do anything, so he knows that I exist but my mind thankfully argues. I mean, it's really best I keep my distance because, "Hey, my name's Brendon, you don't know me, Ryan, but I've been watching you routinely since May and, shucks, it'd be damn nice to kiss you!" probably wouldn't be the friendliest ice-breaker. It might actually be creepy enough for a restraining order, but I'd probably buy binoculars to continue my 'studies' and that makes me feel tied to him yet so-so-so separate and, oh my god, would I stay at a minimum of fifty feet?
♠ ♠ ♠
Comments much appreciated okay.