To Make Love With Your Eyes Closed Page 7

  We don’t say much in between serving the customers this morning. I monitor what I say and how I say it to everyone. I feel really self conscious around you today. But it’s not about me wanting to impress you. No. Because I don’t give a shit about what you think about me. No, not really. Not deep down.

  I’ve always been a man driven by his emotions. It’s shit. I can’t seem to control how I feel about anything at any given time. And the worst part is, when my heart has locked on to someone, it becomes it’s own victim. My heart does not listen to reason, it barrels itself down a black hole getting bashed up and bruised and refuses to be pulled back up until it is nearly not beating. I don’t want you to have this effect on me. Oh God, what if these feelings transpire into something more.

  I look down at my phone, I open up Duncan’s profile on Facebook.

  “Please save me, please save me, please save me.” I whisper to myself.

  As you finish up with your latest customer you head over and stand next to me. At first you are silent. Then you break it with a deep breath. I don’t know what you want. I can’t read your mind.

  I could be wrong about who you are. My intuition may still be a little messy and in the immature development stages. That I am constantly well aware of and somewhat accepting of. I am happy to be patient with myself as my feelings start to become clearer and I don’t have to hold on to lust. It’s not fair of me to invade someone else's head or their personal life as much as I wish I could. If I am right I want to help you. I know that I can look after you oh so well and keep you safe.

  Oh God, what if you can read my mind. I’m totally fecked.

  “Bet you miss London on day’s like this don’t you?” I say, trying to break the awkward tension.

  You turn to me and smile. You don’t say a word. You have the worlds goofiest smile right now to match the worlds most annoying laugh.

  Help!

  I gulp. It’s in the eyes. Your eyes. They’re dangerous. They don’t end. You’re eyes are bottomless. As you look into them they go deeper and deeper. I stop looking at you. It’s too dangerous to look into your eyes.

  I feel a warmth inside of me knowing that me smiling makes you smile even when we don’t both try.

  Then it bubbles up inside of me…

  I think to myself, “Gerry, you and this man have a serious spiritual connection.”

  I look at the way that you just stare into my eyes and smile gently. It makes my heart swell up and my knees go weak. “Oh God,” I tell myself, “I think I’m in starting to love you…”

  “London weather isn’t really that much of an upgrade of Ireland.”

  I awaken from my daydreaming.

  “Do you ever miss home? Is it hard being away?”

  You mumble for a minute. Thinking about your answer.

  “No, not really, I’m pretty happy here.”

  “Ahhh, kay.”

  My phone vibrates and Duncan’s name lights up the screen. I whip out my phone, subtly, but you notice the name across the screen. I feel you shuffle in your step. Nervously.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  I don’t have the balls to say a possible boyfriend so I just tell you it’s a friend. But I feel you read my messages over my shoulder. They pretty much detail that Duncan is anything but a friend. After ten minutes of silence I head out the back. I sit down on the ground and light up a cigarette. I think about how fucked I am. I want to cry, but I’m near you so I’m happy, I’m not upset. Then I think about Grace and I get upset again. Life is so fucked up. This is a huge mess. It needs to end before it begins.

  This is not infatuation. It’s not an emotional obsession that will leave my heart bruised and my pillow soaking with tears, it is love, true, honest, pure love and no matter how you feel about me, I wish you only happiness.

  I take another drag of the cigarette. How did everything get so fucked up so fast. I think about running away. I’ve been through this before with someone else. I can’t go through this again, I don’t think I have the strength to survive this a second time.

  We were destined for each other, lifetime after lifetime, so why are you with someone else? Maybe in another life we can be together.

  The door barges open. I turn around. It’s you. You’re charging towards me. You look deeply emotional. Like you’re about to start bawling your eyes out. You grab me my the cheeks and thrust yourself upon me. We kiss, madly, deeply, truly for several minutes. I don’t care where we are or who we are right now, I only care about kissing your lips. You pull away and look into my eyes. You’re crying your eyes out. I start to cry too. I can’t help it. You want this, you want it so bad, I can tell, but you can’t have it because of who you were born to be. It hurts my soul knowing all of this. It hurts my soul that this just can’t happen.

  With crimson in your eyes you whisper to me, “you’re the only thing in this world I want! Take me away.” You’re holding my head like you’re scared I’m going to run away.

  How did this happen so fast? How is this possible?

  I cry harder. I don’t know whether I’m feeling complete or in pain.

  “We can’t,” I say through tears, “we are just two different people from two different worlds, it’s not possible.”

  “We can, it can be, I know it, you and I are meant to be together or some shit.” We both laugh through our tears. I know you’re not a spiritual person at all, but I am, and you’re trying to use that trick on me.

  “We can’t, we’re both with two different people.”

  I pull away from you. I don’t want to explain to you that I would probably toss Duncan away at your call. I really like him, but with you, it’s something else.

  You take a step closer.

  “Why not? Why the fuck not Gerry? Look at what I’ve done, I’ve embarrassed myself, I’m not gay, look what I’ve done.”

  I turn around and look at you in the eye with a look of disgust.

  “You’re not gay?”

  “No, well, I don’t think so, I don’t know.” Your tears begin to slow down. “I just know that I really want you.”

  “I can’t deal with this right now Thomas. I can’t play games with you, you don’t even know who you are, you’re confused, maybe you’re just going through some kind of adolescent phase, I don’t fucking know.” I wipe away the tears from my face with the sleeve of my shirt. “But I know who I am and I refuse to settle for this.”

  I sound really angry, I am, not at you though. I know that it’s not your fault you’re confused, but I’m sick of constantly being intertwined with insecure men.

  “So where does that leave us then?”

  “Nowhere Thomas, we are nothing, just try and forget all about this, return to Grace, that’s where you belong, you belong with her, it makes sense for you, it’s what you know, you don’t have to second guess it.”

  I think that her name hit a chord with you, like you suddenly remembered that she existed. You look really shocked. Disgusted with yourself. I think.

  “Grace…” you whisper to yourself. I expect you to suddenly get really angry at this whole scenario and turn away from me. But you don’t. “If I leave Grace, if I promise that I’m dedicated to exploring my feelings for you, will you have me?”

  I think for a second. You are out of your mind. How can you tell me that you’re not gay then tell me that you’re willing to throw your life away to be with me?

  I look into your miserable face, your heart is bleeding all over the floor in front of me, you deserve mercy. I want you so bad. So ridiculously bad. You’ll never know how much. I lean into you and we hug for a moment in time. Maybe I deserve to chase just one more pavement on the pursuit of happiness, this goes against my better judgement, but for once, an insecure man is willing to at least meet me halfway. Maybe I would be crazy to push this away.

  “I’ll leave her, I want this, I want what I’m holding in my arms right now.”

  I think for a second about how this massive wave of new,
exciting feelings has suddenly crashed into you. I think about how scared and vulnerable you must be feeling right now. I’m not sure if I’m the first guy that you ever truly felt like you have liked. I don’t care whether I’m the exception or if I’m the sign in your life that you’re on the wrong path.

  “Okay,” I say quietly, almost as if it’s not really what I want to say, “I’ll give you time, don’t do anything irrational, think about it for a while, and if this is still what you want after you’ve calmed down then leave her…”

  You don’t say anything. You’re probably thinking about telling me that you already know the answer but fighting saying it because you know that you can’t make a claim like that right now.

  We breakaway and wipe our faces clean from the fresh tears. We kiss one last time and return to our posts.

  I feel the tension in the air dissipate and once more I feel comfortable in my workplace. Things are about to get really messy.

  12

  I’m lying on my bed staring at the ceiling fan. I’m nervous. Really nervous. I shouldn’t be. Duncan plays with my feelings all of the god damn time. I have no right to suddenly care about his. But I do… I really really like him. He’s pretty perfect for me. Argh. No. I have to do this. I want to be with Thomas. But it’s such a gamble… what if this falls through. No. It’s not fair on him. It’s not even fair on him that the things that have been going on have been going on. But Duncan and I aren’t really dating are we? So it’s not really like it’s cheating. At all. Oh what the heck, I’ll just do it.

  I whip out my phone and zoom to his name, hit message and begin to type.

  “Hey Duncan :-)”

  That’s all I say. I could easily change my mind based on his response and decide I just want to hang out with him and not stop seeing him. I throw my phone down on the bed. I’m so nervous for his response. I feel like time has slowed down. I shuffle through to my easel and whip up another blank space. I dab my paintbrush into the black paint and then just stare at the canvas… I don’t want to do anything with the black paint. I look at my hand. Motionless, gripped to the brush. I squint. My rage, my sadness, my angst, it’s not there… I wipe the brush and dip it into the yellow paint and begin to create a skyline. At first it’s just the sky, then I roll in a nice reddish orange sun, before beginning to scheme in the Dublin skyline. I stand there for quite some time working on this new piece of work. Never in my entire life have I impulsively created something so beautiful. Truthfully enough what I see is quite melancholic, but it’s definitely an upgrade from my previous work. I almost feel myself well up inside. I didn’t know it was possible for me to feel this warm inside again. That’s when I realise Duncan meant nothing to me. A few hours of me perfecting this artwork pass before I lay down my brush and return to my bedroom. With a stomach full of butterflies I lift up my phone. There’s no text message. There’s no reply. I am filled, almost instantly with a surge of anger. Then I remember this is him, this is exactly what he does and in a lot of ways he has just done my job for me. He reminds me I don’t need to break up with someone I’m not dating. Thank god I managed to worm my way out of this obsession with Duncan. I can clearly see now that that was not going to go anywhere. How did I follow that dead end path for so long? Man, love is blind.

  I throw my phone down on the bed with an inner smile. I am at peace. Then I hear my phone vibrate. I race down onto the bed. I’m not even nervous. I hit the top button and it’s not Duncan, it’s Thomas. I feel myself grin deep inside.

  “Hey… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  I laugh to myself out loud. I quickly type in something about how I feel the exact same way before I delete it, letter by letter.

  “Thomas…” I begin, “I refuse to have this conversation with you while you are still with that girl.”

  I typed ‘that girl’ because jealousy tugs at my heart strings if I mention or hear her name.

  “I understand.”

  “I’m sorry, again, I’m not putting any pressure on you.”

  “I know.”

  I can’t be the middle person. I don’t think I would be able to handle being the middle person in a relationship. I know I would trip over guilt every single day knowing I’m helping someone to cheat. Cheating is single-handedly the worst thing you can do to another human being and I won’t be a passive agent in encouraging it.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yer :-)”

  I return to my canvas. I know it’s getting late but I was thinking that maybe I would have something else to say. But I’m out of ideas right now. I decide to hit the hay. For once I’m going to sleep with a smile on my face, despite the guilt in my heart.

  Tripp, Rory and I agree to head out into the city the next night, it’s good because I haven’t seen them a lot lately, I’ve been thinking about them a lot though. I really wish I could clue them in on what’s been going on but there’s no way in hell I’m prepared for the repercussions of that.

  I know how hard it is to be uncomfortable in your sexuality and to try and edge yourself continually closer to thinking maybe, that deep down you’re okay, and so I wouldn’t openly tear someone else from their post if they aren’t ready yet. Despite that, you make it well known that a really large part of you doesn’t even believe you’re gay.

  I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m just so smitten with the idea that you like me too that I don’t want to jinx anything.

  The three of us decide to just lay low at Rory’s apartment. He shares the space with two other guys. They’re a lot older than us, every time I see one of them they are always wearing a suit and don’t pause for little more than a hello before racing out the door. They’re not home tonight so the place is a little more relaxed. We all sit on three soft plush chairs in the middle of the lounge room, drinking our three different types of alcohol. I’m a beer kind of guy, Tripp loves his vodka and Rory is a Jack Daniels kind of guy. Honestly, I never see him drink anything else. Rory and Tripp notice that something is different with me almost right away, somehow.

  “Okay, okay, spill it.” Says Tripp.

  “What?”

  “Why are you so smiley today, did somebody get some on the way over or?”

  The two boys laugh.

  “No,” I say tilting my head humorously, “maybe I’m just in a good mood.”

  “Moody Gerry the painting bartender, in a good mood? Well either you just got laid or you won the lottery so spill it.”

  “We both noticed straight away!” Says Rory.

  “It’s probably nothing…” I say shying away.

  “What, for God’s sake?”

  Immediately I consider explaining what’s been going on, they’re my best friends, if I can’t trust them who am I supposed to open up to? I can’t keep this eating away at me until the end of time, and I’m sure that if you and I did end up together, even in secret, they’re bound to find out eventually. I open my mouth and raise my finger, then swiftly close it again and sink back into my seat.

  “Aaaahhhh,” says Tripp pointing at me. He throws a pillow at me.

  “Hey!” I yell pointing at my shaken Corona.

  “Tell us,” he says.

  “Okay, here goes… I think that…”

  The two of them listen in closely, they have stopped drinking and are just staring at me, impatiently.

  “I think that I’m over Duncan.” I finish matter-of-factly. That’s truthfully part of the reason I’m in a good mood but it’s also definitely not the bigger reason. I take another drink of my Corona. It’s hitting me a lot harder due to the lack of sleep I got last night.

  “That’s it?” Says Rory, “that’s gay.”

  I laugh.

  “Whatever.”

  “Anyway….” Says Tripp, “so, you’re in this much of a good mood because you broke up with someone?”

  “Well technically it’s not breaking up if you were never officially an item, but I guess you can look at it that way, sure.”
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  “Hmmm,” he says, looking down at his phone.

  “What now, what are you thinking?” Asks Rory.

  “He’s considering breaking it off with Casey.”

  Tripp looks at me with a deviant eye, I’ve hit the nail on the head. He’s probably thinking that if I can make myself happy by cutting away a toxic connection, he probably can too. He flips his phone back into his back pocket and looks at me.

  “No.” He says with a bit of haste.

  After a few heavy drinking games and way too much to drink the three of us decide to hit up Dicey’s for the night. At first I am against the idea, I think the second I see the spot where you and I first shared a kiss I will be immediately reminded of you. I just want to enjoy my night. We agreed not to message each other today, but I’m sure that will change soon. And I’m not wrong.

  The second we pull up to Dicey’s, I race into the toilet. I sit down on the pan and whip out my phone.

  “Where aRe you??” I message you.

  You don’t reply for maybe fifteen minutes. I think about how you’re probably with her and my stomach feels sick.

  “At home.” You reply. “Where are you?”

  “DiXeys.. Come ouT”

  You don’t reply for another twenty minutes. I’m out on the floor, dancing like a complete plank, I’m sure my amazing ability to overthink everything would have me seriously depressed right now if I wasn’t almost entirely smashed off my tits.

  “Can’t, enjoy your night.”

  I close my phone. Dick, whatever, I don’t need you. My phone vibrates again.

  “X”

  I smile. But I’m still sure he’s with her. Time begins to slow down and I look around the room. Look at the girls and the guys bouncing up and down in the room.I look around and I can’t give myself the energy to invest in someone else because my head is constantly spinning with you and your soul. No one is ever going to be able to be let inside of me while you own the vacancy in my head. I honestly cannot see myself developing a genuine bond with another man until you are far from my mind. I could probably find someone else to invest my interests in, but you just have a special quality, that is so unique to you, and I’m addicted to it.