Savor the Moment

I'm so happy that we're doing this. You've always seemed to have perfect timing when it comes to wanting to hang out with me, tonight being the perfect example.

Earlier today, my parents and I had an argument. It was one of the bigger ones, and I can honestly say that it brought me to tears. That's probably one of the worst things I could've done; cry, I mean, because my dad has always been really big on my manliness. I suppose I've always had to act way tougher than normal people because of my height. Either way, he wasn't too keen to my tears.

But you called later that night, as if you had some way of knowing, asking to hang out. And of course I wanted to hang out. I always want to hang out with you. So I agreed, grinning like the lovesick fool I am. You said you'd pick me up around midnight in the 'piece of shit truck' that your 'piece of shit job' bought you. I laughed weakly at that, and I know you heard the sadness in my voice. You didn't question, though, because you're just that amazing.

So here I am now, shimmying my hips so I can actually pull my dusty, light blue jeans over my fat ass. It was 11:58 last time I checked my phone, but you're not usually one to be on time, so I'm not too worried. I buttoned my jeans and zipped up the fly, before slipping on my beat up Chucks and shrugging on my favorite leather jacket. It used to be yours, but when you hit that growth spurt in tenth grade it got too small and you gave it to me as a joke. I kept it anyway, because it fit me almost perfectly, and the fact that it still smelled like you at the time. But I wasn't going to admit the last part to anyone.

I decide to have a smoke while I wait for you, so I slip out of my window easily and jump as quietly as I can down to the shed right under my bedroom window. It's a bit slick from the last rainfall, so I slip a little bit, but luckily I find my balance and I hop off of the shed unharmed.

Just as I'm finishing my cigarette you're pulling up in front of me, your window rolled down. You flash me a smile and I flash you one back, running around the front of your car to get the the passenger side door. It's one of those trucks where you only have the front seats, and the rest is just the bed. You were right to describe it as a piece of shit, because there's countless dents and I don't think the paint job is lookin' so good, but I can't be sure because it's pretty dark out.

"Hey Johnny boy." You greet cooly once I get into your truck. I can barely hear the music playing, which is odd because you either like music ear-killing loud or not at all.

"Hey." I reply lamely, because I can feel myself getting nervous, even though this is a regular thing for you, for us, and we've been friends since forever. I know it's my stupid crush and how I'm pretty sure you know about it, since you're awfully flirty with me. Maybe that's just you, though. You're awfully flirty with many people.

It's pretty much silent from then on--except for the light music--because, despite what many people might think, you're not much of a conversationalist. That doesn't bother me, though, because I don't have much to talk about. We both know I'm sad, and I'm pretty sure you know why, and nothing really exciting happens in my life. Everything exciting I do is with you and the guys.

When I'm alone I don't go out and do crazy, mischievous things, I sit at home and do my homework. Then I usually listen to music and play bass until dinner. After dinner, I go to bed. And that's how it is pretty much everyday I'm not hanging out with you guys. I suppose I lead a pretty lonely life, but I have you guys, and that's pretty much all I need. My parents are always asking about girls I like at school, but truth be told, I'm too busy pining after you and cooped up in my own world to have any girls notice me or for me to notice any girls. Usually I placate my parents with a lie about a fake girl in my science class.

We get to Central Park in record time, or so it seems. Maybe since I wasn't really paying attention, the car ride seemed to shorten in time. Either way, I'm out of your truck and following you to the spot. It's where we usually sit and talk and smoke and drink. Most times it's just me and you, but sometimes the guys come along, if we're hanging out over the weekend and such. The guys don't know about our midnight walks and chats, which I like. I like that there's some sort of secrecy to this, that it's just our thing; no one else knows about it.

You're sitting on a log and lighting a cigarette by the time I get through the semi-thick brush. It hangs loosely from your lips as you cup your hand around you're lighter's flame, keeping the wind from blowing it out. The fire light casts amazing lights and shadows onto your features, and, along with the moonlight, you look absolutely gorgeous. The concentration in your eyes is mesmerizing, and slight wrinkle between your furrowed eyebrows makes a weird feeling wrap around my heart. The feeling stays, blanketing it in warmth. It's a feeling I decide I like-- a lot--and I don't want it to disappear. Not ever.

When I sit down I feel right at home. You sling an arm around my shoulders comfortably, your other hand occupied with you cigarette dangling between your forefingers. Loosely, of course.

I don't know what to do with my hands. I don't want to light another cigarette, because, honestly, I just don't feel like one. I wipe them on my jeans. My nerves are getting to me, telling me that something big is going to happen. But I always tell myself that, so I try not to get my hopes up.

When I look at you, you're looking towards the sky, at the stars, and smoke is falling from your lips. It's a sight I don't think I'll ever forget. You look absolutely flawless, like you couldn't give a care in the world. The moonlight shines perfectly with your skin, and creates an amazingly haunting sparkle in your, unnaturally dark blue eyes.

And then I have an overwhelming urge to kiss you. To just climb in your lap, crush your cigarette in the log we're sitting on, hold your face, and kiss you, deep and passionate. The thought and image makes my stomach churn, because that's all I've ever wanted. Even if it didn't end well, or if you didn't want that to ever happen again, all I've ever wanted was for us to share a deep kiss. Not one that you didn't respond or reject, not an awkward one. One where we were both completely comfortable in the situation, and maybe even getting into it.

I move my gaze from you to the grass, feeling sadness slowly fill me. It'll never happen. Not because you won't ever like me, and not because it could ruin our friendship. Because I'm a coward. Day by day I show myself that, and day by day my father reminds me.

I feel lame for crying, but I can't help it. I can never help it. I don't even try to stop them either, the attempt would be futile. Everything I do is futile. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes anyway, and try the breathing technique my mom showed me a decade or so ago, when I was just a small six year-old. It almost calms me down, before you notice.

"Whoa, hey, what's up?"

And your voice alone just brings another round of tears. I keep trying to breathe, though, because all I want to do is calm down and, for once, not look like such a broken mess to you. Like I'm an actual human being who can hold himself together. My breaths are shortening and becoming choppy, and before I know it, I'm nearly hyperventilating. I sound so pathetic, crying over a guy and stupid family problems. But the tears don't stop. They just don't end.

I feel you move a bit, and then your arms are awkwardly around me. I let you hug me, and I let you pull me closer to you. I let you crush me against your chest, as well as set your head on top of mine, and rub my arms, telling me it'll be okay. And for once, I believe it. Maybe it's just because you said it, but I do believe that things will be okay. I'm calmed down in less than a minute, the fabric of your T-shirt soft against my cheek and nose. I breath in deeply and exhale slowly, keeping my eyes closed as I take in your scent.

You pull away gently, and swing the leg I didn't know was around the other side of the log back in front of you, so you're sitting normally again. You keep a hand on my shoulder, making sure to look me in the eyes when you ask, "You okay now?"

I'm sure my face is red and my eyes are splotchy and gross. The thought makes me bite my lip and look away from your intense gaze and answer, emotionally exhausted, "Yeah, I think I'm okay now." It's a quiet response, but you hear just fine. "Sorry." I mumble out after a second.

"Why?"

I think about it for a moment. "I don't know," I finally conclude. "I just felt like I needed to apologize."

I look up to see your reaction, and you look like you're thinking really hard. You're gaze is on me, my face, and it's really intense and actually a bit intimidating. I want to look away, but I feel like I shouldn't. So I keep your gaze.

And suddenly we were kissing. It took me by surprise for the first second, but once I realized what was actually happening, I tried to calm down my excitement and pretend like this wasn't what I've been wanting my whole life. Linking my fingers behind your neck, I moved my lips against yours as best I could. I think you're a bit surprised. You wrap your arms around my waist and pull me closer, kissing me deeper.

I move my hands to grip your shirt, and pant against your lips. You pull away, but only enough so we're not kissing anymore. You lean your forehead against my head, and kiss my forehead sweetly. I close my eyes and savor the moment, feeling, for a millisecond, in complete bliss.

"I'm in love with you." I whisper.

"I know." You whisper back.

You continue to hold me against your chest. You don't let go, and you don't move any farther away than you are now. You kiss my head and pet my hair, and I think at one point I started falling asleep. I know you don't mind, though, because you understand what I've been going through and how much of a toll it's taken on me, and you let me sleep. And you stay with me the whole night and early morning, holding me. The breeze picks up and the trees rustle, but it doesn't matter because we're together and maybe not in a relationship sense, but we're together now, sharing a moment, and that's all I'll ever need. That's all I've ever wanted. And I know when I wake up in the morning still in your arms, I'll be happy. I'll be complete. And no problems will ever hurt me again, because you're all that I'll need and even if you go away some day, I had you once. I had you once and I can say that, I can know that, I can cherish that.