Later Oliver

Good Night

To my dearest Oliver,

You've only just left and I feel as if my heart has stopped. The time we spent together races through my mind and it feels unreal. As if it was a story told to me by a stranger. A story of love and passion. Yet filled with sorrow and heartbreak. I want to feel you and be near you, but as I write this you speed on towards your future. The ever growing distance between us is both physical and spiritual. Your clock of life continues to tick on as mine stays frozen. Frozen the moment that you left on that train. All hope of starting again lost the day that phone call came and told me about a life you live as a man that I do not know.

Was it really today that you left? Or was it years ago?

I don't know...

I can't remember.

I don't want to remember. Don't want to think about the seconds without you in my arms. I am stuck in an endless loop of that summer we spent together. Forever to relive the highs and lows. The first flutter of my heart, to the moment it becomes nothing.

The nothingness that drowns me. The white space within my own mind. Blank walls where picture frames should go, but we have yet to make those memories.

I run and run and run, yet nothing. I am trapped in silence. I can't stand the silence, my mind is dry.

Oliver. Oliver. Oliver, I can't do this.

My life, I can't do this.

I fear that one day my clock will start. I will wake from my coma and it will become true. You will be gone.

I remember. I remember why I'm writing this letter. It is a goodbye to the you that is here today. The you that has moved on and has a life in this reality.

I forever want to sleep. To have you in my arms and to feel the heat radiating from your body. To kiss those lips and hear you whisper your name as if it was my own. I want it all.

I can't have it here, and not with this version of you. A you that no longer wants me. No longer loves me. No longer needs me. So I will sleep today and wake up tomorrow somewhere new.

I feel it calling to me.

I hear you calling me.

"Come to me," you say, "Come to a summer that never ends."

I will wake to that summer, but that only difference is that you'll stay. I will wake to a love and a life that is out of my reach here. To an Oliver that is truly mine. This is not a goodbye, but a firm and resounding...

...later...