Steam collected on the window where traffic passed by on the rainy street below his 5th floor apartment. His hand shook upon the white knob of the bathtub as he turned the water off. White. Everything in the room was white. The tile floor, the sink, the tub.
The pills spilled on the counter top.
Shivering, he entered the too white tub filled with water a touch too cold, shaking with the prospect of what he was about to do. Tears stung his cerulean eyes as his shaking hands picked up a Polaroid photograph of another teenaged boy. He drew a shaking breath and whispered "I love you, Symon." to no one. He squeezed his eyes shut and thrust his head and shoulders underwater.
Let's not pretend like you're alone tonight. I know he's there and.....
Five seconds. He lay in the tub, fingers pressed to too white porcelain, body wanting air, mind and heart denying it. He used all of his strength to keep his shoulders pressed to the floor as pain began to build in his chest. Dull at first.
Slender fingers run along lithe bodies. His own pressing the teal eyed boy to the too white tile of the shower. Fingers on hips, lips on lips, gasps and whispered promises. Water droplets adorned their wet skin like jewels. Symon’s so like coffee with too much cream. Jerry’s, so ordinary. Too white. Coffee colored fingers tangle in too short golden hair, as lips slammed on Jerry’s in a silent plea for more.
Ten seconds. He forced more air from his slowly strangling lungs, allowing his eyes to open only to stare at more white.
“You know I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” Sy looked at Jerry with eyes too guarded. Eyes hiding the ghost of his past always attempting to claw its way through. He was stronger than Jerry. So much stronger. “Maybe we should just stay friends.” His words were a torch to Jerry’s flesh.
“Why?’ he tried, and failed to sound devoid of feeling, attempting to cloak his emotions the way Sy had become so adept at doing.
“What if we start hating each other?”
Jerry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, knowing the other boy was right. Wishing he wasn’t, because who would he have without his Symon?
Twenty seconds. Nails bit into his palms as he attempted to distract himself from the pain wrenching and twisting in his chest. He desperately fought the reflex to bolt upright. To cough, gasp and take in breaths of life-giving air. He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced another small air bubble from his lungs.
“I love you.”
“No!” Symons steadily kept composure broke like glass. Shattered upon the too white floor. “Please no.” it was a whimper. This reaction was not what Jerry had anticipated. Rejection, maybe, acceptance but no feelings probably, but a breakdown?
“Why not? Why can’t I love you? I'm not asking you to love me.” Please love me.
“I can’t Jerry, please don’t do this. You don’t mean it.” He sobbed, pulling his knees to his chest. Attempting to hide his tears with those slim fingers. Tears. Real tears. And not the product of a nightmare. “You don’t”
“I do.”
“Don’t do this.” his voice breaking, tears leaking in streams. “Love doesn’t exist, don’t pretend it does. Please.”
“Sy,” he cupped his almost lovers face in his hands. “This is me. I won’t hurt you.”
“You don’t know that.” Jerry’s brow creased as Symon, looking shocked at his own words began to get up from the too white arm chair. “I have to go.”
“No!” Jerry caught Symons sleeve before he could leave. “Please don’t go.” Symon froze, his eyes attempting to guard themselves once more. Eyes locked on where Jerry had grasped his sleeve in something like fear.
“Jerry,” he breathed “please let me go.” Jerry reluctantly complied and Symon turned to leave.
“Please.” He whimpered after him. “I can’t lose you.” Symon turned, looking at his friend. The only one he had.
“Then please, don’t say that to me again.”
“But I-“
“Please.”
A pause, a sigh, tears and pained breaths. “Please?” another sigh “Jerry, please.”
Jerry swallowed the lump building in his throat. Swallowed his feelings. For his friends sake. For his love’s fragile state.
“Fine”
Thirty seconds, agony. Nails bit palms bloody, tingeing the water pink. Less white.
“So how are things with you and that guy?” Jerry asked. Symon’s face lit up.
“Great. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” Good. Happiness is good.
“That’s great, hon.” he said, squeezing the other in a too short, one armed hug.
“He says he loves me, Jer.” Jerry pulled back, unable to hide the shock etched into his features. The other boys face was alight with a happiness Jerry had never seen there in six years of knowing him. Agony clawed at his chest. He felt as though he might vomit. But at the same time… how could he hate what finally brought a smile all the way to Symon’s eyes?
“Oh, Jerry I feel as though I could twirl around and rise into the sky!”
“I'm happy for you, Sy.” he choked. He truly was, but his insides also hurt so deeply. He tried to clear his throat of the lump that had lodged itself there while Symon began spinning, arms outstretched, eyes closed, face upwards towards the sunlight in utter bliss.
“Do you love him back?” he didn't want to know. He had to know.
Symon stopped spinning, an unfocused look of thoughtfulness on his beautiful face.
“I think so.”
Teal eyes smiled.
Blue eyes teared.
Forty seconds. Too. Much.
The boy bolted upright gasping, coughing, tears leaking from his eyes onto the too white porcelain of the tub. Wheezing, twice he tried to heave himself from the pink water before fell, wet and aching, to the too white bathroom floor, palms leaking scarlet.
Shaking all over he crawled to the dark mass of robe on the floor. Black, warm, inviting. He weakly threw it over himself and lay there sobbing and shaking.
I guess that I can live without you, but without you I’ll be miserable at best.
Honorable mention
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