I was standing by the gate of their village, and I saw him then walking towards me. It was only last night when we had this SMS row. He accidentally sent me a message meant for another guy. And although we weren't officially together, I felt I had the right to demand his faithfulness towards me. Despite the lameness of his excuses, I found myself conceding. Because no matter how I hid it from myself, I still liked him. Very much.
He reached me then, and I noticed how he couldn't quite look me in the eyes. At least he was ashamed of last night - that one goes in his favor. On hindsight, I realized I was always looking for things which would put him in a good light when all along I only wanted him to stay because it was his body I wanted. Or maybe it was his warmth when we were lying together. Was there really a difference?
He picked up one of my bags and we hailed a tricycle back to somewhere closer to civilization. And as I sat beside him, and his distinct man-smell reached me, I felt strangely complete. I leaned closer to him, to this guy who made me feel taken care of. To this guy who kept turning my world upside down and yet helped me put the pieces back again. We are going to start anew, I thought then. And I felt excited for the days ahead. I was bringing him home for the summer.
***
The soft yellow lights of the wall lamps of our living room were on, illuminating the soft smooth lines of his face and his body. We were sitting on the mattress of my bed which I pulled from my room, and he was crying on my shoulder. He was so scared, he said. His parents were always fighting. His violent father and his older brother were always beating him up because he was gay. There was always trouble in his house and at times, he said, he felt like going mad. I felt like crying myself and I hugged him so tight and tried to reassure him. I'm here, I told him. I may not be much but I'm going to do what I can. And he hugged me tighter, and in that I found an immense pleasure. Not only because I like to feel him so close to me but also because I felt like I was giving him something he had been looking for all this time. My father found us in the morning with our arms still entangled in each other.
***
We spent our summer days just whiling away the hours on my bed. He was shirtless most of the time, and I was pleased because he really was one of the guys who you'd prefer seeing undressed. We'd just tease each other on the bed, alternately tickling and wrestling, our pants mixed with our laughs. Exhausted, we'd just lie beside each other, staring at the ceiling and talking about our future plans together. And as I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat fast, I wished I could have made that one moment last forever. I used to only read about such silly things in books before but hell, that was the only time I felt that myself.
One day, Mom told me that she and the rest of the family were leaving to visit my relatives. It was the first time I will be having the house to myself and my guy. And at the sound of the gate being closed, we wasted no time in taking each other's clothes off. We hurried up my room and we made love like I've never made love to any other before him. So this is what it really feels like, I thought to myself as he was lying on top of me, sweaty and intense. I found myself gasping his name over and over and my mind flew away and I got myself lost in him. Everything was him. I was so caught in that moment, never knowing that that will be the last time I'd ever do something like that again.
And that was how I got sick.
***
Weeks later, we were waiting on one of the benches in the University Infirmary. He had to pick me up at my dorm because I was so ill I couldn't leave by myself. I could barely walk. I felt like I was this pregnant girl being accompanied by her boyfriend, waiting for the doctor's announcement on my condition. My salary that time was delayed, and we had to wait there hungry and had to split between us the little money he had with him to buy something to eat. He may have done so many bad things to me but the fact that he was there with me when I needed him most seemed to erase all of those. We couldn't hold hands out in the open, but I know that if only we could he would have squeezed my hand to reassure me that everything was gonna be okay.
***
It has been two years since that summer and I find myself now sitting on the couch where we used to cuddle. Where he used to lay his head on my lap as a way for him to say sorry (he wasn't as eloquent as I am) and where I used to give him head. Where he used to give me a swift kiss just to calm me down because I was spitting mad at him. My friends told me I deserved someone better, and I agree. And yet the emptiness of this couch still reminds me of those days when once, I felt the warmth of the summer.
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