I couldn’t feel it when we were kids. Maybe the playground was too hot. Throwing a ball off of that roasting tarmac. Maybe my senses were confused. But then I can’t contend with the late nights together. Arm to arm on our knees in front of a glowing screen. We had so many adventures in those virtual worlds. I may have just been too lost in them to feel it. Even as we grew, I wonder now how you even stood at that stage. Standing so tall and proud, accepting your diploma in front of everyone.
The years we spent apart never even felt that far. The late night’s on voice. We both had better things to be doing but I was happier to spend them with a friend. I wonder how much pain it caused to even pick up your phone. How the heat didn’t radiate through my screen. But I was sad then. Did my own issues dull my common sense so perfectly? I was underwater. It would have hurt but I could have still opened my eyes to a blurry imperfect radiance. To suffer a few minutes of muddy water burning my eyes would have only been a fraction.
When I came home we had nothing going on. You had just bought this cheesy leather jacket that you loved. It’s so ill fitting looking back. How could you stand it? I’m not even sure anything would have been appropriate to wear. Nothing would have been comfortable. I’m sure its why the libation flew so hard most nights. There weren’t a lot of places in town. The dive bars were more suitable because the patrons there were like me. Drowning on their own, you blended right in. While we always received looks at the establishments full of Gen X suburbanites. Trying to fit in their two glasses of wine for the night. Your hair had grown so long, you were mangier than before. We always acted like we didn’t care, but I should have realized why we made them so uncomfortable.
I think about it still. Driving you home that evening. I shouldn’t have driven, but I did, it was normal at that point. I knew the routine. You’d invite me up and we would spend the rest of the night polishing off some old bottle your dad wouldn’t miss. How your parent’s were just sitting there, the TV shining off of them. They must have just been used to the climate after all these years. It disturbs me still how calm they looked when they looked up to wave to us. Business as usual.
Once we’ve run dry of booze and YouTube videos. You walk me to the stairs. I don’t know why, but tonight I hugged you. Tonight I felt your shape. With your limp arms you hugged me back, I had no sense of your light. The lack of it, the lack of size in my arms. As I walk down the stairs to the door, it comes on though. The sweat beads into my eye, and in confusion, I turn to take a last look at you.
I shield my eyes from them. Glorious licks of light everywhere. Covering the walls, the steps. I panic and brace myself on the railing, only to recoil as the burns try to consume my hand. Holding my hand I look up, you looked the same as always. Had something changed? Unfazed by the broiling chaos. Looking into your eyes, you spoke to me without uttering a word. “You see them too?”.
For me
It’s Always Like This
