Page 17 of Beneath the Indigo Sky

“Not quite convincing.”

“It’s peaceful here and beautiful. I spend a lot of time outside when it’s nice enough, listening to the wind blowing through the trees and the sound of the birds and the squirrels and the deer just living their lives in the forest without humans bothering them. I love that. I love knowing that there are still wild, unspoiled places in the world. I feel very lucky to be able to observe that here.”

At my noncommittal grunt, he just smiles and continues.

“The sky is my favorite thing about this place. We don’t get to see the sky as often as I’d like since it storms so much, but when it’s visible, it’s spectacular. Even when it’s five degrees outside, I bundle up and lie on my porch for hours, staring at the stars and the Aurora in the winter and wondering about the universe and my place in it.”

I watch his face as he talks, and his expression is almost one of awe or reverence when he speaks about the sky and the universe. I can’t remember ever having felt that way about something, at least not since I was a kid. Before I became jaded and worn down by the demands of daily life in adulthood. Before I lost my parents. Before I lost Jordyn. Before I lost everything.

“Jordyn and I have…had…motorcycles. Early every August, we’d drive them down the coast highways to Seattle - that’s where our parents were from. On those trips, I’d notice things like that. I’d notice the way the trees move in the breeze and the rays of sunlight that broke through the packed canopies onto the pavement, but here…”

I sigh and look around in thought.

“I guess I’ve forgotten to do that for a long time.”

There is a long pause before Namid speaks.

“You still can, you know. It’s all around you still.”

I can’t trust myself with words anymore, so I only nod and turn my attention to my drink. This is the most I’ve spoken since I lost Jordyn.

It’s quiet for a long time. I wonder if I’ve said too much, but the silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable between us. Maybe it is, and I’m just too broken to recognize things like that anymore, but I don’t think so. I shift down on the bench, my ass nearly sliding off so that I can lean my head against the backrest to stare up at the sky and listen to the breeze murmuring through the trees that surround us. Large clouds float through a nearly blue sky, but there is sunlight streaming out between them, and for just a moment, I forget to be broken.

Namid

I find myself waiting anxiously each time I have to wait for the two weeks to pass before I get to see Jayce again. I want to be around him. I want to try to make him smile. I want to be there to catch the brief glimpses of the man I imagine he once was during the fleeting moments he forgets that he’s shattered. I want to feel the rush of warmth that runs through my veins and makes my skin tingle when his expressive jade eyes look at me as if he’s searching for the meaning of life. I’ve never felt anything like this before. This sense of contentment and wonder and joy. The lightness that settles over me when he’s around is so strong that it almost erases the heaviness he carries. I wish I could share it with him. I wish I could wrap him in this feeling and help lift the sorrow from his chest.

I know he’s not okay, and I know he doesn’t feel the same way about me. I don’t mean I know that in the way people always say, “Oh, he doesn’t feel anything for me,” because they don’t believe it’s possible that the person they have feelings for might like them back. I know he doesn’t because I feel everything he feels. Once in a while, when we’re talking or walking in the park, it feels like his pain lightens a bit, but there is nothing that joins it. There is no rush of attraction or sense of overwhelming delight when he sees me. He doesn’t feel the way I’m starting to, and even though I know it means this will end in heartbreak for me, I don’t really care. One day, I’m sure I’ll look back and shake my head and tell myself I was stupid, but right now, I want to feel this way. I want to feel accepted. I want to nervously look forward to seeing him even though I just left his shop. I want to feel my heart rush when he steps into the room and my breath catch when his shoulder brushes mine as we stroll side by side. I want the knot that’s slowly forming in my stomach. I’m not in love with him, but I think I could be one day, and I want to know what it’s like to fall in love, even if that love isn’t returned.

“You still okay working with Jayce, kid?”

Ken’s voice snaps me back to reality with a jolt.

Ken and I are eating chicken parmesan, like we do every Thursday night, and I nearly choke when he asks about Jayce out of the blue. I talk about Jayce from time to time, of course. Ken and I talk about most things. I haven’t told him about Jordyn’s savings account; that’s not my information to share, but I’ve told him that his accounts are all in order, and while there isn’t much for me to do, Jayce asked me to come every other week to help him stay on top of things. I’ve told him that I’ve never encountered sorrow as intense as the waves that still threaten to pull Jayce under, but that even through that, he’s kind to me. I’ve told him about the day Jayce stood up for me at his shop and asked me to get another coffee with him afterward so that people would see us together, and that it’s something we’ve done the past two Saturdays I’ve gone in as well. I haven’t told Ken I think I’m falling in love with him.

“Of course I am. Why?”

His kind brown eyes search my face before he speaks, and it somehow feels like my abilities must have transferred to him. Like he somehow knows what my soul is feeling.

“Just making sure. This life…it’s not necessarily the one I’d choose for you, but you’ve always seemed happy enough here with me. I just want to make sure you still are.”

I don’t feel anything unusual from Ken. He feels as open and honest as he always does.

“Why wouldn’t you choose this life for me?”

He sighs and grumbles something about me focusing on the wrong part of that sentence as he stabs his chicken with his fork, but that’s just how he is, and I know he’ll answer.

“You’re alone here, Namid. I know that other people overwhelm you, and I know that you like being alone, but still, sometimes I wish you had…more.”

“I’m not always alone. I have you.”

“I know that, and you know I love you. But…well…we don’t know how old you are, but you’re not a teenager anymore; you weren’t even when I found you. I’m an old man, and I just…I want you to be happy always, not just now. There aren’t any other gay men here and…”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He really can tell what I’m feeling!

I cut him off. “How did you asking if I’m happy working with Jayce turn into a conversation about my lack of dates?”

“By accident.” Ken rubs the back of his neck, looking a bit surprised this is where we’ve ended up. Maybe he really just feels bad that I’m alone.

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