Their last night together. And still, they hadn’t talked about what was going to happen in the morning. They knew it needed to be talked about, but neither of them was sure how to talk about it. It was easier for them to pretend that this was just another night, that tomorrow they wouldn’t be torn away from each other. It was easier to try and forget.
Justin let his head rest softly against Josh’s thigh, Josh running his fingers slowly over Justin’s shoulders and back. Josh didn’t want Justin to leave. He wanted to keep Justin with him, hold him close, and never let him go. But he knew that was being selfish. Justin had a life back home. He had a job, and friends, and a girlfriend. Even though he knew they’d started the summer on bad terms, pretty much broke up, and that Justin hadn’t talked to her since he got here, it was still an unresolved issue in Justin’s life. And there was no way he was selfish enough to keep Justin from going back to it. He loved the man too much.
As hard as it was, he knew he had to let Justin go. He just couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He’d tried, more than once. But they just ended up getting stuck in his throat until he swallowed them back down, forcing them to stay hidden. He wanted to be selfish, wanted to keep the goodbyes buried away, wanted to tell Justin to give up his life and stay with him.
But those words wouldn’t come either. So instead, he just said nothing, just pretended like this wasn’t happening, like Justin wasn’t leaving tomorrow. But his heart couldn’t pretend, couldn’t forget and as the minutes slipped by, fading into the past, the pain clenched harder around his heart. It was an almost unbearable pain, almost tangible. It made him nauseous, made his head hurt. Made him ache inside, ache for the man he loved and the man he had to let go.
Josh shifted and slid out from under Justin, earning a curious look. He smiled and let his fingers run over Justin’s cheek, reassuring him that he’d be right back before leaving the room to find his guitar. When he returned, guitar in his hands, he sat back down next to Justin, resting the guitar on his knee, sliding his fingers over the strings before tuning it quickly by ear.
Looking down at the guitar, he began to play, a slow, haunting melody floating around the room. He couldn’t look at Justin’s face while he sang this. He’d never make it through. He’d written this song two nights ago, thinking about Justin, about how much he felt for Justin, deep inside. And about how things were changing, about how he knew he had to let Justin go.
When he opened his mouth, the words that came out were full of feeling, full of happiness and warmth one moment and sadness and pain the very next moment. It was contradictory to itself, but that’s how he was feeling when he’d written it. That’s what he was feeling from the moment he’d fallen in love.
His words spoke of falling, falling harder than he’d ever knew possible, but of having to let go, of having to give up that love because there was so much love there. They spoke of feeling whole, of feeling complete, but then of feeling empty.
And as the words and music warped around the room, wrapped around the two of them, Josh felt the tears in his eyes, felt them slide down his cheeks. As he sang the words, dedicated them in his heart to Justin alone, he felt the bittersweet tears reach his chin, slipping off to land on his hands, still plucking the strings of the guitar, still creating music. Music was what had connected them that first night and music was what was giving them their goodbye now.
When the song ended, the last notes fading, Josh finally allowed himself to look back up at Justin. The emotion he saw there, in Justin’s eyes, was enough to make him want to pull Justin close, reassure him that everything was going to be fine. But it wasn’t fine. So instead, he leaned in, lips pressing softly against Justin’s. He could feel Justin’s own tears slip against his skin, could feel the tremble in his body. He knew, without it actually being said, that this was goodbye. Josh stood, guitar clutched tightly in his hands, and moved toward the doors, leading out to the deck, leading back to his own house. Leading away from Justin. He’d only taken a few steps when he felt a soft hand, shaking slightly, rest against his back.
“Josh, don’t...” but he tuned quickly, bring his fingers up to rest over Justin’s lips, cutting him off.
“It’s better this way.” And it was. He loved Justin, more than anything. But it was better this way. They had separate lives they needed to get back to. And to prolong it anymore would just make it more painful. “Goodbye, Justin. I love you.” He was out the door and across the beach before Justin could respond.
*****
Justin sat down at the table, a piece of paper in front of him, pen poised in his hand. His eyes were red, both from the tears and the lack of sleep. He’d not slept much the night before, the night Josh had said goodbye. Not that he expected to. His heart was broken and thoughts and memories overwhelmed him all night.
Waking early this morning, after a couple short hours of unfitful sleep, he’d showered and debated with himself if he should go see Josh or not. He hated how last night had ended. He hated, after everything they’d been through together this summer, with everything they felt for each other, that this was goodbye. But most of all, he hated that Josh had left before Justin had a chance to say anything to him. No goodbye, no I love you. Nothing. Josh had just left.
He understood. Josh wanted to make it as painless as possible. Not that it was possible not to have pain, but he understood why Josh had handled it the way he had. What Justin didn’t understand was why they had to say goodbye at all. His teaching job, although he loved it, wasn’t necessary for income. He had enough money coming in from his books. And for Josh, he’d quit in a minute. His family was all gone, his parents having died in a car crash. And he really had nothing else to go back to. Sure, he had friends, acquaintances who he’d go out with on the weekends. But there was no one overly special. He’d moved so much in the past few years from job to job that true friends weren’t a part of his life. He’d never had the time to make that connection. And as for Crystal, he was done with her. They hadn’t talked all summer, and he knew there was no way he could go back to her after what he’d shared with Josh. It would pale miserably in comparison. He wasn’t even planning on attempting it.
But it was his fault things had turned out the way they had. He’d been so scared to bring it up. It had been so easy to just let it go, forget about the fact that he was leaving, not worry about it while spending time with Josh. But that had been his downfall. Had he talked about it, told Josh there was nothing worth going back for compared to what he had here, Josh might have wanted him to stay. Instead, he’d ignored it, pretend this day wasn’t coming, and now that it was here, Josh was gone.
He’d gone to Josh’s, after his shower that morning, only to find the house empty and Josh’s car gone. Justin had sat out on the deck for the better part of the day, watching Josh’s house, willing him to come home. But he hadn’t. And now, if Justin didn’t leave soon, he’d never make it home tonight.
But he couldn’t leave without something more. So here he was, sitting at his table, trying to write Josh a letter. But he had no idea what to say. How could he possibly convey all of his feelings, all of the things he felt for this man, on a piece of paper? He was a writer, had books published. He could write relationships, and feelings, and emotion. But when it came to his own, when it came to the things he wanted and needed to tell Josh, there didn’t seem to be words that justified it. Nothing he knew, nothing in the entire English language seemed good enough.
There was no greeting. Dear Josh wasn’t enough and noting else seemed to be working. So instead, he just started writing. Writing from his heart, from his soul.
I don’t think there are words that can convey how deep my feelings for you actually run. When I came here this summer, it was to get away from my life, get back to simplicity. And to find my muse again. You became my muse, Josh. You shared all of yourself with me, heart, mind, and soul. But you became so much more than my muse. You became the only person I’ve ever loved, and I’m sure the only person I will ever love. I don’t see how anything can compare to what I feel for you.
It’s been there since the day on the beach. Your smile and your laughter hit me, and the truth is, it caught me off guard, almost made me stumble backwards. There was nothing particularly special about that moment. Nothing outstanding. But it was in that moment, as you came toward me, calculating the best way to get me over your shoulder and into the water, that I realized I was in love with you.
And from that moment on, my life has been forever changed. You released a part of me that hasn’t existed since my parents died. But at the same time, you released a new part, a part that I never knew existed until you found it.
You’ve loved me in a way I’m still not sure I deserve, but I know that I’m eternally greatful for. You’re gentle touch, your soft looks and whispered words filled my heart with a warmth that I’d only ever written about before. You’re tenderness amazes me. And the pride you felt for the fact that I was with you is something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to grasp. You never hid the fact that you loved me. You always wore it proudly, held high above your head for the world to see. I don’t think you’ll ever know how happy that made me, to know that you were proud of me. Proud of what we shared.
I’m leaving, and I never got to say goodbye. I’m so sorry we never talked about it before. I’m sorry that I never told you everything I was thinking, hoping I could just make it go away but knowing I couldn’t. And I’m so sorry that I let you walk away without following you. I’m sorry for all of that.
But I’m not sorry I met you and I’m not sorry we shared everything we did this summer. That’s not something I’ll ever regret. It’s something I will hold dear to my heart, keep it close to me and cherish it always. The memories will never leave me. You’ll never leave me. I won’t let that happen.
Goodbye, my love.
Without reading it over, without allowing himself to think about what he’d written, without allowing himself to overanalyze it, Justin folded it in thirds. Josh still wasn’t home when Justin stepped onto the deck and slid the letter under the door. Finally, he couldn’t wait any longer. As much as he wanted to, he knew it was time to leave. Josh wasn’t coming back.
As he climbed into his car, glancing one more time at Josh’s house, he felt the tears filling his eyes once again. And as they started down his cheeks, he didn’t stop them. Instead, he cried for the love he’d had, and the love he’d lost. He cried for Josh and for himself. He cried for what once was, and might not ever be again.