Natsby

Chapter Six

It was a blazing June, a full year of my time in West Egg. The parties only have gotten bigger, the buildings even higher, and everyone was in a constant state of happiness. Except for myself. The newspaper reports had finally ceased reporting on Gatsby's mistress, but that only made my situation worse. I felt like a mad man, unable to realize exactly how in control I felt knowing what Gatsby was doing with another woman. Now they could have eloped and I would never know. That fact alone ruined me.

It was a warm evening as I looked, just beyond the hedges and towards Gatsby's party. I hadn't spoken to him once ever since he came back. I furrowed my brow, I had to know if he was happy. But I couldn't.

So my decision to stay home was written in, and I was content with being uneasy and anxious.

Or at least, until the next week when I received another letter. I hadn't gotten one in over a month, it seemed so foreign and ambiguous. We hadn't spoken in so long, and I knew I should have kept it that way, but I couldn't do the same thing with him as he had done with Daisy all those years ago.

I smiled as I decided to open the invitation, but it turned into a frown as a note fell out with the actual invitation. I set the envelope and card on the small table near my door and moved across the room to my living chair, where I sat down fearing what the note would say. I winced slightly as I opened it, fearing the worst despite it just being a letter. But it was more than that.

It was handwritten by the man himself.

Nick,

I deeply miss our friendship. I know I clung onto you too much when I first returned, but you were all I had left. Still are, contrary to the rumors of my latest love affair.

I wait to see you come through my doors much like I had with Daisy all that long ago, but this time I feel as though your wandering self may not come by accident.

I had stopped sending you invitations, sensing your anger at me regardless of my lack of knowledge towards what I did to upset you so. It would be an honor to walk through my gardens with you again, and to stay up late talking like we had before.

You're my closest friend Nick, please don't end it because of my mistakes.

J.G.

I frowned. I hadn't known the extent of my choices and felt deep shame and regret about it. Guilt bubbled up, as I made a selfish choice without a single care about the man I claimed to have feelings for. I wanted to ask him so many things, the questions jumbling in my mind. I glanced across the room to where I could just barely see the invitation on the table. I glanced down at the letter, and decided that I needed to do what was right. I began preparing for a trip to Gatsby's party.

The party was just as I imagined it, loud and crowded. In the same place where I felt at home once now felt suffocating with the absence of the single soul I came to acquaint myself with. I wandered everywhere, until I caught a glimpse of his sparkling eyes through the crowd, begging me to follow. And so I did, right into the gardens. He sat on a stone bench, hands clasped tightly and he sat with his head down, like a child who just got scolded. "Hello Gatsby."

His widened eyes met my own, and he subconsciously fixed his clothes, almost as though he was a peacock tending to his feathers. He stood and made his way towards me, his eyes shining brightly and his grin growing wider the closer he came. Gatsby held his arms open and I accepted the invitation, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him tightly. I enjoyed the arms that came around and squeezed with just as much force as I had.

We soon separated and sat on the bench Gatsby was perched on when I arrived. The silence that followed was almost sickening. I decided to break it with the obvious.