Stay

I need some time. Just deliver the things that I need for now.

There’s still a box of my hoodies at your place. Could you drop them off soon?

Jack sent the text early Monday morning. It was four and he’d just woken up from a dream about Alex. Another dream about Alex… He shook himself, knowing he couldn’t dwell on that for long. A dream wasn’t going to change anything. They’d been broken up for exactly three months today. It had been Jack’s idea, so dreaming about Alex definitely wasn’t going to change anything.

Surely Alex had moved on. He hadn’t even cried the day they broke up. He’d just nodded and said, in a hollow voice, “Okay.” Jack had cleared most of his things out of Alex’s apartment that very day and moved back into his own place.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been lonely the past three months. He’d also be lying if he said he didn’t miss Alex. But he’d meant what he said when they—or rather, he—ended things. It just wasn’t working out.

If you believe that everything’s alright, you won’t be all alone tonight.

The clock said 4:01 when Alex looked to see who he’d just received a text from. He hated the way his heart jumped to his throat when it said Jack and then fell to his stomach when he read the message. He just wanted his hoodies back. Right. Why else would he have any interest in communication? After all, Jack was the one who broke them up. Alex hadn’t really even played a part or had a say in it.

If he said he was sick of sleeping alone, he’d be lying, but only because he hadn’t been sleeping much at all lately. But he was sick of being alone.

He sighed and shrugged off the blink-182 hoodie he was wearing, one of the ones Jack had just requested the hasty return of. Shivering slightly, but not from the cold, he put it back in the box and took the box to his car. If Jack had been awake to text him about this, he’d be awake to deal with it now. He didn’t feel like putting this off; he just wanted to get it over with. Like ripping off a band-aid.

And I’d be blessed by the light of your company…

The doorbell rang at around six. Jack couldn’t help but smile. Alex was good at getting things done quickly, even something as insignificant as this. He opened the door and for a second wanted nothing more than to throw his arms around the older boy.

But then he took a look at him. He’d definitely lost some weight. He was paler. His hair wasn’t as well taken care of as it used to be. And what struck Jack the most were the deep, dark circles under his eyes.

Oh, can you tell I haven’t slept very well since the last time that we spoke.

Alex could feel Jack’s eyes raking over him. He bit his lip nervously. Did he look as bad as he felt? Because he felt like there were icicles stabbing into his chest and twisting around as he avoided looking his flawless ex-boyfriend in the face. He felt like he hadn’t slept at all in a week, when it had only been three days (although it was only a couple hours of sleep). He felt like everything that was currently wrong with his appearance—the hair that he hadn’t had the motivation to put any effort into, the circles under his eyes that kept getting darker, the slight weight loss—was suddenly magnified. He felt exposed and raw and vulnerable and just as bad as he did the day they broke up.

Could Jack tell that he hadn’t been sleeping much? Could he tell that he was struggling to eat because for some stupid reason, every food had one of their memories tied to it? Could he tell that Alex was falling apart?

All the love’s still there. I just don’t know what to do with it now.

Alex looked pitiful. Jack wanted to put him back together, piece by piece. But where was he supposed to start? He knew that this was his fault, and seeing him like this made him regret the breakup more than ever.

He took the box from Alex and set it on the ground. The jacket on top wasn’t very neatly folded, which was weird; Alex was usually so meticulous. He picked it up to examine. Ah, it was his favorite blink-182 hoodie. He noticed that it smelled…familiar. Who was he kidding? It smelled like Alex. Jack realized that he must have been wearing it before he brought it over.

That broke his heart a little because yes, they’d had a few fights and of course, they had some differences, but they had been so in love. Jack had made an impulsive snap decision—something he was terrific at—and look what it was doing to them. Alex was a wreck and Jack was fake-happy and wanted him back more than anything.

We both did some things I don’t even wanna think about.

Alex shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of what to do. Jack had taken the box from him. Was that his cue to leave? Were they not even going to speak? While Alex was hurt—okay, devastated—by their breakup, they’d been best friends long before they started dating. Did that all go away?

They’d both screwed up a lot. They were together for five years, of course they were going to screw up. Alex cheated once early on and still regretted it to this day. Jack had done a little retaliation cheating right after that. They’d occasionally gone too far during play-fights and said some really hurtful things.

But the other 90% of their relationship had been amazing. Alex would give up anything to have just a few minutes of it back.

Just say you love me and I’ll say I’m sorry.

Jack rocked on his heels. He didn’t want Alex to leave, but he didn’t know how to tell him that. It was all his fault that they were in this mess and he didn’t know how to get out of it. So he just stared silently at his (former?) best friend, praying that he’d just say I love you so they could erase the past three months and go back to being together.

Unfortunately, Jack knew Alex and he knew that Alex would never put himself out there to get hurt again like that.

I don’t want anybody else to feel this way.

Alex could swear he saw pain flit across Jack’s face, but he convinced himself he just imagined it. No use in succumbing to wishful thinking. The look returned again as the two locked eyes. Alex looked away quickly. He didn’t want his sadness to be contagious. If Jack felt even half as bad as he did, he wouldn’t be able to cope with that. He didn’t want anybody to ever feel like he did.

I’ll admit I was wrong about everything.

What was stopping Jack from reaching out to Alex, pulling him against him, and apologizing, saying he was wrong and that they do belong together? What was stopping him from falling to his knees and begging and pleading with him to come back?

Absolutely nothing.

And yet Jack stayed glued to the spot.

All the fun that we had on your mother’s couch, I don’t even wanna think about.

While trying to look anywhere but at Jack’s face, Alex caught a glimpse of Jack’s couch through the open door. It had actually been Jack’s mother’s, but after about the eighth time she’d caught them fooling around on it while they were still in high school, she’d declared that one: she would never sit on it again and two: she was giving it to them when they got a place of their own.

He didn’t want to think about that, though.

He didn’t want to think about any of it anymore.

What was I supposed to do?

Alex was turning to leave and Jack didn’t know what to do or how to stop him.

You know I love you…

It took every ounce of self-control for Alex not to whisper a pathetic I love you as he turned to go.

But Jack surprised him by lunging and catching his wrist, whirling him around and looking directly in his eyes. He finally broke their silence and said the words Alex had been unknowingly hoping to hear:

“Please stay.”