Polaris
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Eight words, and then a lifetime of silence. You look at your cell phone, watching it flash a few times to signal the end of the call, then close your eyes. You will go, of course. He asked, so you will go.
--
Two months ago, you were with him at the airport. He was getting ready to leave for home; you were getting ready to let him. He wouldn’t ask then, because he knew what your answer would be. He wanted you to make your own decision for once.
You were mostly afraid, and a little bit dumb. “Have a good flight.”
He looked like he would shatter, but drew in a deep breath. “Thanks. I’ll call you when I get there.”
You nodded, handing him his carry on. You let your fingers linger over his, but never grabbed his hand. You realize now, you should have, you really should have…
--
“I owe her, Ian. She’s given me so many years, I owe her. I have to do this for her.”
“I understand, mate.” You didn’t understand at all. But it was Pieter’s reasoning, and who were you to question Pieter?
“Ian…if you ask me to…I won’t.” His voice was shaky, raw, throbbing.
“Do you want me to ask you?”
There was a long silence. “I have to go.”
--
You are soaked through, shivering, water dripping off your hair. It’s summer at home so of course it’s winter here. In your hurry, you had forgotten that. You really should have brought a coat.
Pieter opens the door with a look of surprise on his face. “Ian? What are you doing here, it’s not for another-“
“Please,” is all you said. You stand shaking, watching him from beneath overlong bangs, hoping that he’ll understand.
He nods, letting you in.
--
Your back was pressed against the wall and you looked up at the ceiling. Pieter was on his knees in front of you, undoing your pants.
“Wait,” you whispered.
Pieter tilted his head up, waiting. You reached down, threading your fingers through his curls.
“I love you.”
His smile was so pretty it hurt.
--
“Today’s the big day. You nervous?”
Pieter laughs. “Not really.” He goes back to adjusting his bowtie.
You watch him in the mirror, his red cheeks, his shining eyes, his boyish grin.
“You’re staring,” Pieter chides.
“When I’m old,” you reply, “I’ll remember you as you are today, and know the world was beautiful once.”
Pieter turns. “Ian. You asked, and I let you stay. Why didn’t you ever ask me to stay?”
“I thought you were a dream. You can’t keep those.”
Pieter sighs. “You’re so, so stupid.”
“I know.”
--
His lips crush yours in a fierce kiss that is over far too soon. “I love you,” he breathes, kissing you once more. Then he is gone.
Without his presence, everything seems a little darker, a little bit deader. His is a one way train you didn’t stay on, and now you are alone in the station, not knowing where to go next. It doesn’t matter. He has loved you once, and loves you still, and even though he is not here, it’s enough just to know that.