To Make Love With Your Eyes Closed Read online

  I want insecurity, trouble, tears, fighting, and hardship. As fucked up as all of that sounds. I just want to really connect with someone, I want to feel the way I feel about you, and you never develop the same feelings for anyone in this world twice. I only want you.

  13

  Aaron has called me into the office today. I’m a little nervous, nothing has changed in the workplace since the other day. There’s nothing new to report. As far as I’m aware. I hope he doesn’t have something to say that involves you.

  “Hello Gerry,” he says, his face still glued to the computer screen. He barely even turns to open the door and let me in. I’m not quite sure where I stand with this man. Are we friends or is he just my manager? There’s a bit of silence in the room for a while. I twirl around on the swirling chairs, I’m a little nervous and I think it shows. I don’t want him to feel like I’m guilty, or that my mind is racing with a hundred different reasons to be in trouble because that’s not true. I haven’t done anything wrong.

  He taps his hand on the desk, over a pile of paperwork.

  “I just wanted to go through this with you,” he says, again not turning to face me.

  “Oh!” I say acting relieved, “sure, what is it?”

  “Just a progress check, it’s protocol that I have to see how you guys are finding the transition between managers here.”

  He then turns to face me. His face suddenly goes from emotionless concentration to comfort in my presence. He doesn’t hand me the paperwork immediately, instead he crosses his legs and rests his hand on top of his knee.

  “So how have you found working here recently?”

  “Fine, I guess, I haven’t had any problems.”

  He seems stuck on my blunt response.

  “Hmm, what are some of the things you enjoy about this job?”

  “I guess I enjoy the fact that it’s always easy to understand, any changes in processing are always thoroughly explained by yourself, I can always know what to expect when I come into work… ummm…”

  “Okay, what are some of the ways you think that I could help you to reach your goals within your role?”

  That’s a tough one. I want to say that I don’t really give too much of a shit about this job at the end of the day but I can’t do that because it’s my sole source of income.

  “I think I’m pretty content here.”

  “Do you envision yourself being promoted to a supervisor or manager type role? I mean, you have been here forever.”

  “I’ve never really thought about it to be honest, I guess I’ve always been pretty content in my safe little familiar zone.”

  Aaron remains silent, I think he’s happy that I’m a reliable worker but is probably questioning how I can be so stupid to want to remain sealed in this tiny little role until the end of time.

  “Well, that was a lot easier than I had anticipated haha.”

  “I’m easy to keep happy” I say waving my arms open. Aaron smirks.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with, or anything else you’d like to talk about today?”

  I have a think for a second. There’s nothing work related I’d like to talk about but I probably could do with a little advice…

  “Can I ask you a bit of a personal question?”

  Aaron changes his position in the chair. I can feel him grow a little uncomfortable.

  “Umm… sure.”

  Is there any other kind of answer to that question?

  “I’m just, going through a hard time with someone right now.”

  “A boy?” he says, listening intently.

  “Yer… well, I’m kind, of, sort of, seeing someone, and I really feel like we are just so compatible. I like him more than I’ve ever liked anyone before, and really fast, too.”

  I’m scared he might pick who I’m talking about. Obviously he would never in a million years be able to take an accurate guess though.

  “Okay,” says Aaron.

  “But the thing is, it’s really really difficult, he’s worth it, of course, but, if he likes me as much as I like him, would it really be this hard? I guess in my asking for advice I want to know if it was always easy for you and Jake in the beginning, or if you had your fair share of struggle.”

  “Well, it was never really easy, but it was never really hard either, when two people really want to make it work, they find a way.”

  I don’t really feel like this helped me at all, but I can see I made Aaron a little uncomfortable, perhaps by overstepping my position, so I leave it. I thank him for his help and leave.

  As I leave I see you, standing there on the bar.

  You stop what you’re doing as I enter the room. Your entire body language shifts towards me. Your energy locks onto me. You smile, just a little, in a way I believe it’s unconsciously, because you like me, I guess. You feel happy in my prescience and can’t hide it. You say hi to me, in a way that sounds like you are stifling a laugh. My response is much less squeaky and is followed by a twisted scowl. I wonder why you never think about the effects of the things that you do and say to me. I try not to smile too but it’s near impossible.

  “Thomas!” Shouts Aaron through the ajar door, “can you come in here please.”

  You smile and look at me seductively as you head into the office. The door closes and I feel my heart stop. What on Earth are you doing to me?

  It’s hard to believe that by loving someone so much, you can find inner peace. I don't understand why it is that I’m not falling apart in these moments of cycling through my thoughts. Maybe what I'm feeling is true love, and that can’t be a bad thing, love can never be a bad thing. I used to question why people return to relationships after being beaten on and cheated on but now I see why. Logic can not compare to love; it’s paralysing, dehumanising and it takes away the only, integral steering wheel we own. I've wanted to stop loving you, deep down I know how you’re no good for me, and its funny because now I've just given up. I'm just living in acceptance of it and it doesn't even phase me in the slightest. I love you, I honestly do. love, not lust. I think about you finding happiness and I think about you and it makes me happy. I do not think about kissing you or sleeping with you, I only think about connecting with you. If lust is anything between us it is the desire for me to bond with you on a spiritual level. It’s stupid I know, because you could probably never feel the same way. This is a whole lot of trouble and I’ve just jumped in the deep end of it.

  It’s in the way you talk, it’s in the way you look. It’s beauty in its purest form. Something that can not be altered nor improved no matter the perspective. You are beautiful to me and I know that this feeling will never die. You’re an artwork that I have framed into my mind. When you’re not around I see your face but there’s no workplace there, there’s no stress and there’s no judgement. There’s peace, love and sunlight.

  When I was eighteen I met someone and something inside of me split down the middle. It was the first time that something hit me so heavily inside that I could no longer deny who I was. I never wanted to be gay, per say but there was no escaping how I felt. As the year transpired my feelings grew out of control. I wondered what was wrong with me, why was I becoming so obsessed with this man who I knew inside felt nothing for me? Until now I had believed I was in love.

  But what I feel for you, that disintegrated that theory.

  How I felt for that boy ruined me. It made me hate myself, it made me cry myself to sleep every single night because I could never touch him like I longed to. To kiss him, to hold him or to just be with him. I fantasised about running away with him but deep down inside I knew it was not meant to be.

  What I feel for you is something else entirely. He was a star, but you, you are the whole galaxy.

  I don’t care that you don’t think I am beautiful, or want to hold me, or even take me out for a drink on a Friday night. I am in love with you, and it is beautiful. I can’t get over you, but I don’t care. Jealousy and frustration, sure they tickle me fr
om time to time but whenever I think of you I just want you to be happy. It really doesn’t phase me that I am no one to you, I just love you.

  It’s messed up because we have nothing. We have no relationship, not even a mid level friendship but whenever I see your face my heart stops and I get all choked up inside.

  Now I truly know what love is, and even though we will go our separate ways I want to thank the universe for healing my soul and allowing me to patch up the puddle of my past.

  If I’m wrong and we’re not meant to be, then I’m not sure I’ll ever be in love again. I honestly can’t grasp the idea of me meeting someone who makes me feel the way that you do. There will never be another you and that makes me feel helpless like nothing has ever before.

  I don’t want to hold hands with you in the street, or run through fields screaming about how much I love you, because even though those things are unrealistic, they don’t mean anything to me. I only long to hold you close to me through the dark and the cold of the night.

  You return from the office, nonchalantly, it’s scary how deep and possessive these thoughts in my head are and that you will never know that I’m telling myself the things that I am.

  When I’m around you I don’t think about anything else, I don’t fret about the past or stress about the future, for once I am alive, only in this moment. I never want to lose this feeling, but a lot of the time, when something feels too good to be true, it usually is, and when your intuition tells you to be careful and you ignore it, you know that you’re asking for danger.

  14

  We haven’t been able to share a kiss since the last time. I don’t feel like we get enough privacy, and if anyone finds out what’s going on we are both dead, plus there’s the inconvenient factor of your girlfriend that I continually choose to neglect the existence of. I don’t get why you can’t just break it off with her. I understand why you choose not to accept your feelings for me, but I don’t get why you can’t just end things with her. Having an emotional affair is a solid bad thing to do. We text and stuff a lot of the time.

  Days pass, weeks even, and although we physically do not embrace our affection for each other we continually show interest in one another through text message, eye contact and even words when no one else is around. It gets quite tense when we are on shift together. I think I freak out about someone finding out about us more than you do. In a way I’m kind of embarrassed that I have allowed myself to become another puppet to this kind of relationship. I swore after the last one that I would never do this again, and here I am. Hopelessly devoted to someone who is only half a committed man. I’m happy still, even as time goes on. Because I know you’re the only one I want to be with, I’m not concerned about anything else in my life. Except for those few, and very rare moments where Grace’s name is mentioned or she is brought up in conversation by someone else. Then I get jealous. Suddenly I am reminded of all that I’m not. I know that you want me, but I still get insecure. You haven’t chosen me yet, you say you have, but you haven’t. I can see why. I can see that you’re confused, and I’m jealous of her. Her having you is so easy, she can just be her and have you, but we have to be in secret. I have to constantly be depressed about what I’m not. If I could just be her, then our relationship would be so easy. It’s all really fucked up.

  I never see Grace these days. She never comes into work, never comes to visit, to pick you up, to drop anything off. It’s good. She’s the invisible ghost of a girlfriend who doesn’t-but-does exist and whom you don’t-love-but-secretly-do love. Again, being born with creativity helps you to fill in blanks of thing you don’t want to see with a wild imagination.

  It’s a Friday night and I am exhausted. I’ve taken a walk around Phoenix Park to help soothe my spirit. You’ve given me a lot of tension in my neck and shoulders, you’ve given me a lot of stress, but I’m ignoring both of those things, I just think about the good part, the part where you like me back.

  It’s roughly seven o’clock in the evening and the sun is still glowing deviously in the distance. There’s a depressing purple-red glow across the sky but I don’t mind being here because at least there is still light. I wander around the lake. Hands in my pockets, earphones in, Ed Sheeran on my iPhone.

  I look at the beautiful swans and their elegant dances in the water. They make me smile. I take a seat opposite the lake underneath the tree and gaze out.

  My soul suddenly feels at peace. Being in nature is a phenomenal reminder of how little we need in life to make us happy. Occasionally when what we have doesn’t feel like enough to keep us happy for the rest of our lives we need to be reminded that possessions aren’t going to make us feel more satisfied. It’s cheesy but love is really all we need. Love doesn’t always have to come from a relationship though, love can come from our mothers, our brothers, our best friends, our sisters and our ex-lovers. The people that truly care about us are all that matter in this world. We don’t need anything else.

  I feel the wet patch of grass next to me, I wish you were here.

  I have a vision of you and I running away together, to a place where no one knows our names. A place we can start over, where you can just be gay and it’s not a big deal because no one is shocked that you’ve changed or are not what they thought they knew. That’s so stupid of me. I need to stop trying to control other peoples lives. If you wanted what I wanted, maybe you would be the one to incept the idea.

  My phone vibrates. It’s you.

  “What are you doing???”

  “Not much, why? you?”

  “Let’s go out!”

  It’s very out of character of you to incept to go out with me one on one. Maybe your girlfriend is out of town or something.

  “Where? when?”

  “Let’s go to a gay bar :-)”

  I assume that you delete all of these text messages after our conversations. Heaven forbid someone to read them.

  I don’t want to go to a gay bar. I despise those awful places. They are a dirty pit of three different generations of horny, ugly, and extremely effeminate men. I have no place there. I feel so uncomfortable walking through the front door. Is it weird of me to prefer a straight bar to a gay bar despite my sexuality? I’m sure to a lot of people I sound homophobic against my own, but I don’t really give a shit, I know who I am, I know what I like, I know what I don’t like and I don’t have anything to prove to anyone.

  “Ugh… why?” I say. I already know there’s going to be no rubbing him down from this idea.

  “Come on, I want to do it, it will be fun!”

  You’ve turned into the stereotypical eighteen year old gay man. As soon as they have realised they have an attraction for the same sex they just want to go out and be gay as much as possible in every place they can with people they think are the exact same as them. Sad truth is, most people in that club, the only thing you’re going to have in common with them is your preference for who you’d like to take to the bedroom.

  “Do we have to?”

  “Yes!”

  “But I hate them, they’re just… not cool.”

  “Why?”

  You must think I’m an absolute head case.

  “Can’t we go to a straight bar, Dicey’s was nice.”

  “You think you belong at Dicey’s more than at a gay bar?”

  “Yes… I honestly do.”

  “Well that’s just sad, come on, I have never been and I want to go.”

  I’m not going to let you go by yourself, and plus, we both know you could ask me to jump in front of a bus and I would definitely at least consider it, and so I convince myself into taking you out. I’m going to burst with jealousy the second we are surrounded by gay men though, whether they’re looking at you at them.

  “Okay, fine, but just this one time.”

  “Awesome! Where are we meeting?”

  “Come to mine at 9.”

  I flick you my address and head back home. I’m sort of looking forward to this. It probably won’t be so
bad being there when I have a man of my own. I’ll probably feel a lot more comfortable, and besides, this is what you want to do so this is what we will do.

  I’m ready in no time at all. I don’t even get changed. I literally just have a smoke, a glass of water and throw some gel in my hair and I’m flat on the couch.

  The doorbell goes and I let you in. You still make my heart stop every time I lay eyes on you. We share our first kiss in what feels like weeks. I should really fight this, I made an ultimatum already about your girlfriend but I want you so much and time and time again you continue to win over me. We make out for a little while. It’s silent in my apartment and a little awkward too. I wonder if you’re thinking about sex as much as I am right now…

  We stop as you pull me onto the couch. You’re sitting comfortably pressed into the comfy cushions and I’m sitting on your lap. We kiss passionately, aggressively. I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life. I roll my fingers through your thick hair. You grab me by the back of the head and turn me over, launching me into the couch. If ever there was a time in my life I had ever felt so powerless to the hand of another human being this is it. I want you. I want this so bad. I can’t deal with the teasing anymore. We are making out now like the world is about to end. Like we are both about to die. Like the Russians are about to barge through the front door and take us both away. Then you stop.

  You pull away.

  You sit up and look into my eyes.

  We are both out of breath. Both laugh. You hit me across the chest.

  “Come on,” you say, “get up, we have to go.”