All In Love Is Fair (dreamnotfound)

8: Like I Love You

Maps by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

It's not dumb to want your soulmate. It's okay to long for them, know they're out there and wonder where they are. Calling out into a bottomless pit, dipping your toes into the warm teal waters, sending messages from the deepest depths of your being. Not many people do it anymore. Less and less are cutting out a piece of their consciousness and dedicating it to someone who may  currently be a stranger. How would it feel to be one of them? To never care, or worse, never even know. On the other hand, how do you rationalize dedicating that much of your thoughts to your one in seven billion? Why couldn't it be something simpler? Humanity would keep hope if maybe there were thousands of people with the same birthmark, rather than just one. There would be more happy people and less failed marriages. Couldn't whoever or whatever is out there see into the future and know we would need more than a one in seven billion chance?

Wasting time thinking about this has taken up an embarrassing amount of George's thoughts for most of his life. Even now as he's found his soulmate George still ponders these questions. What if George fucked up somewhere in his life and didn't end up meeting Clay? The thought is gut wrenching, and frankly a waste of time, but George still allows himself to entertain it. It still orbits.

Clay slept on the floor again. If the couch was bigger would he had curled up next to George? A rustling of blankets comes from the floor, George looks down at Clay who is smiling despite just waking up. He says good morning but it comes out deep and raspy. George holds back the urge to roll off the side of the couch and land right on top of Clay. His hand rests flat on the cushion, Clay reaches up and gently holds Georges fingers. Twitching slightly then relaxing, both set of eyes focused on their hands. Not daring to say a word yet, worried it will puncture the atmospheric bubble around them. Clays fingers stroke Georges smaller ones, temperatures balancing each other out. Clay takes his time to feel George, run his thumb across every knuckle. He turns George's hand, spotting the birthmark effortlessly. Swallowing hard before tracing the mark. A lopsided star with five points. Exactly the same. Clay raises his opposite hand, the one where his birthmark is. When the marks are right next to each other, both George and Clay glance back and forth between each others hands.

"I read it's pretty rare for it to be in the same spot." Clay says, breaking the silence but not allowing it to ruin the moment, he keeps their hands close.

George smiles, eyes meeting Clays. "Yeah I think I read that somewhere too." At least a hundred times, enough to know it as a fact.

When the moment ends, when their hands separate, George can feel it. The tingle. The soft vibration right where the birthmark is. Now that he thinks of it, he's been feeling it ever since yesterday.

The feeling doesn't go away. As they stand in the kitchen making omelets for breakfast George feels it. When Clay rests his hand on Georges back for a second to sneak behind him he feels it. Tingles humming low when Clay throws his head back laughing at an inappropriate joke George made. It's next to debilitating when Clay cups Georges cheek briefly before blushing and turning away to dish up their food.

Clays mother calls George while Clay is taking a shower. "George! How have you two been? Is Clay being mean to you still? I swear if he is I'll come over there right now and do something about it!" Her tone is joking because she can feel it, she knows that they're okay. "No, we've been good. We're getting along" He laughs at her promise to help George. She laughs along, "That's great to hear. I knew he'd come around." George smiles, "I'm glad he has. Thank you, for everything you've done to help us." He wants to elaborate and tell Clays mother how much he truly appreciates her, how without her things would be a whole lot worse. But she shushes him, "You're welcome George. But thank you for contacting me in the first place, Clay needed you. I would not had been able to get through to him in any way, you were the man for the job!" Her words are effortless and loving.

When Clay gets out of the shower George quickly says goodbye to Clays mother and hangs up the phone, then walks down the hall to take his turn in the shower.

They go to the beach, it's only about an hour away. Clay always told George about the beach, how he'd go tidepooling with his mom and sister. The idea always excited George, he grew up in the city and only went to the beach a small handful of times for family vacations. When they get there Clay excitedly removes his shoes and rolls up his pants, telling George to do the same. Then George feels himself being pulled by the hand to the edge of the water. Hot sand beneath their bare feet, ignoring how much they're gonna hate putting back on their shoes when they leave. The sun spotlights Clay and George, pointing excitedly at their grasping hands. Clays jogging is Georges running. Damn Clay for being so tall. Their hands separate as Clay kicks around in the shallow waters, smiling and laughing as though he's never been here. George erupts with identical emotions, mirroring Clay. Running away when Clay kicks water up to splash him. It's okay if he gets wet, what does it matter? Getting wet is just a small consequence of building memories.

Clay squats down, pointing to a small crab nuzzled between two large rocks, George squints his eyes to see. Somehow, living creatures exist outside of ourselves. They breathe just as we do, moving around doing their best to survive. George soaks in the reassuring feeling of knowing that even though he's right here with Clay it's still not just them. Love exists everywhere, even in small creatures that hide between rocks. Georges glance focuses on Clay, this is where their love exists, anywhere they are. It's existed forever. Love was still there when Clay was ignoring George, when Clay cried himself to sleep praying he could be anyone but himself, when he wanted to yell and scream at George.

By the time the sun sets George and Clay were some of the last people still on the beach. They talked effortlessly while running their fingers through the sand, grabbing handfuls and feeling the small grains escape through the gaps in their fingers. Sitting here with the sound of the waves crashing is something George is okay with doing for the rest of time. Even though it's dark and George knows the ocean goes on forever and is full of mysteries, he feels safe. They pull their shoes on, brushing away as much sand as they can and cringing at the feeling of wearing shoes with sand in their socks. George wants to hold Clay's hand when they're walking to the parking lot.

Before leaving to his bedroom to go to sleep Clay pulls George into a hug, lingering long enough so their brainwaves can overlap and George can figure out what he's thinking. Clays hands rub down Georges back, squeezing tighter then letting go. He guides Georges face with his hands on George's cheeks. With a quick kiss to George's cheek Clay leaves the living room. George's hand flying up to the spot. Touching where Clay kissed then moving his fingers down to his lips, figuratively kissing Clay back.