Swimming Deep

Letting Go

Lucas and I have known each other for four years, and have been "friends" for the last two. In that time, we had spent most of our time in the abandoned old theatre in St. Andrews. It was dark, secluded and barely in use except for the occasional assembly or show. It was here that our friendship, which started out fragile and paper thin, bloomed into something more. My footsteps echoed with each step, announcing my presence. The anticipation built, my throat went dry and a bead of sweat run down my spine. A sense of melancholy and dread washed over me until I almost drowned in it. A silhouette appeared a few steps in front of me, emerging from the darkness.  

As Lucas came close, I absorbed everything about him from his tousled dark hair, to his tan skin to those eyes that appeared in both in my dreams and my nightmares. He looked like a model wearing dark wash blue jeans and a black sweater that accentuates his muscles. His body was all dark muscles, ridges and and dips. I couldn't help but admire the view and tried to ignore the heat that coursed through me. Standing in front of him in a grey hoodie that has seen better days, battered jeans, and hair that wildly stuck out everywhere, almost made me feel inadequate. 

The unease disappeared when his hand enveloped me, making me drop my bag, and bringing my body snug into him. I leaned in and breathed in Lucas. He smelt like winter in the Alps and pine wood.

"Parker, I have missed you," Lucas rumbled into my ear.

His breathe tickled my skin and I pressed myself closer and stared deeper into those eyes, hoping I could forever get lost in those dark pools of brown. I begun thinking about what it would feel like just lean in and allow myself this one mistake. He saw the contemplation in my eyes and came closer, urging me to do exactly what I was thinking. But that is where this all started, one mistake and that thought broke me out my bubble.

"Lucas, what's going on?" I asked warily, as his hand still held me.

The feeling was a bit too good to be true and all of a sudden the closeness was too much and the darkness is claustrophobic. It was dark enough that he doesn't see the tears that sprung in my eyes. I tried to hold them at bay. But he knew me better than I knew myself and pulled me in closer into his strong arms again and cradled me, as if he were holding something truly fragile. Maybe he was.

Distance. That is was I needed. Taking a few steps back, I breathed in and out. When my breath evened out, I stared back at him. Being next to him unlocked a flood of dark thoughts that I tried to ignore. My hands trembled and the onset of a pain attack set in. Looking at him reminded me of everything I had lost and it was all for nothing.

It was literally all for nothing.

My resolve strengthened, knowing what I had to do. I had to finally end things with Lucas. I would never make a mistake like that again. But how do you end something that never really begun?

"What do you want from me?" My tone wasn't cold but indifferent. My eyes drifted to the dust covered props in the theatre in front, absently wondering which play it was for. There was an assortment of bushes and golden gates draped over in plastic. Perhaps It was for the Wizard of Oz?

Time lapsed before Lucas finally replied.

He tried to grab hold of my hand but I diverted from it. His sigh filled the darkness, creating an ominous melody echoing through the empty theatre. I shouldn't have come, I should just turn around and leave, but some dark part of me craved this. Still craved him. As my inner thoughts plagued me, I almost missed his reply.

It was just above a whisper, "We haven't spoken in a month. I keep thinking about that night and how things could have been diff-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence out loud," rage broke through my indifference, "Don't you dare act as if we both went through that. Just don't."