Walking with Phil...

“Joe, please take me for a walk”.

He looked at me with his persuasive deep green eyes and that charming and dazzling smile he used to especially wear when he wanted to convince me to follow him. I could not - and would never try to - resist his plea. The invitation was the code especially created between ourselves to say things to each other without being too obvious.

As expected, he was lovelier than ever. I noticed, anyhow, just by looking at him, there was something else. I was too used to him not to sense that he wanted to tell me something serious and I could undoubtedly see that urge in his eyes. We walked together for a while, side by side. His charismatic and handsome features, allied to the energy he irradiated, made me feel younger and stronger, in spite of the age difference between us. I had the impression he was getting more mature every day that passed by.

When we were together, I believed someone actually liked me. If I was right or wrong it did not really matter. What mattered was how I felt inside… and I felt good. He had the power of turning my existence lighter and my problems smaller anyhow.

I was attracted by that sweet melancholy in his eyes, the easy and open way he’d give his heart away to love and the way he charmed my eyes… but what I valued with all my passion was the good times and laughter we shared when we were in each other’s company. His presence and friendship were what I treasured most in my life.

I still remember the day we first met. He was alone and quiet and had a heartbreaking look in his eyes. Feeling lonely myself, I studied his uneasiness for some time, then carefully walked up to him and asked if he was tired of something or simply feeling sad. He told me he was bored. I accepted that straightforward statement as a challenge. After some minutes of conversation, we were laughing together and I noticed he was relaxed and had forgotten about things that were making him feel the tedious minutes dragging around him like hours. We still chatted for a while before saying goodbye to each other as if we were long time friends.

Later on, when we gathered around again, he received me with a wonderful and warm grin, showing the affection I was not prepared yet to be introduced with. His eyes had a different sparkle and I felt a pinch in my stomach, warning my reason I was more involved with him and with that situation than I was supposed to be. Among many other things, I asked him what he liked doing. He told me he liked “to walk” and we laughed, when he noticed what the following sentence was. From that episode on we started to use that code when wanted to refer to physical contact.

He looked astonished, however, when I invited him to walk with me, not long afterwards. It was the natural path we would have to trail, but he was caught by surprise, anyway. We walked together some times. Every time we did, it was even better than the previous one.

We used to talk about many different things. From all about ourselves to the music we liked – we had so many things in common - similar tastes, lives alike - it was hard to believe. He told me once about a relationship with an older woman. I knew what he was going through, based on my own experience. 

So much in common…

I learned how to make him smile and also how to make him blush. His eyes would guide me through the darkness, but it was his smile which was light to my days. Seeing him was like sighting the powerful beam of the lighthouse standing proudly on the shore, after a turbulent night out in the darkest sea.

That day, however, when I set my eyes on him, I immediately detected a strange sadness - and impatience of a kind - in his eyes… something I had never seen before. His lips would not outline a smile to me, the thing I most adored to spot on his lovely and young face.

“What’s the matter, my sweet friend? Why are you so serious?” I asked him.

“I have big problems worrying me, Joe. I cannot simply pretend everything is OK and smile, when I am not at ease”.

He said nothing further than that. When I realized he did not want to tell me anything else, I said: “I understand, my dear”.

Understanding and being patient were two different things for me. Youth and patience do not go too well together, I knew it for sure, as I had been that young before he had. Serenity would only come up along with age and I was still struggling to get some.

I decided to leave it alone for the moment. Going for a walk would not work either, I knew. I did not ask anything else, neither did I insist on trying to have any other friendlier approach to the matter. He was lord of his life and problems and I respected that with all my appreciation.

Days would have passed until we’d see each other again and maybe he would tell me. From experience, I knew the so-called “big problems” could be either related to family, women and/or relationships or money. I was almost sure it was money, but chose to let it go quiet until the moment he would be ready to come back to me and tell me more.

Maybe time would soothe his pain away and bring rest to his wings - those little features he had on his back and wanted them to be bigger, as he confided to me one day.

As I suspected, money was the issue. He needed more than just wasting his precious time for low incomes as his ambitions were far higher. He stated clearly and categorically that was his problem and he would have to face it and sort it out by himself.

I admired him for being so determined to fight for what he wanted for his life and his future. For such a young man, he knew exactly where he wanted to be and had a clear idea on how to get there. Unfortunately for the sake of that mild relationship, he was prepared for a battle I could not be part of. With a serious look on his face he told me he would be leaving the soonest possible.

I was shaken by the unwelcome news but did not show any signal I would interfere in that decision. I felt, however, as if my soul was being pierced without any mercy by the sharp tip of an evil spear.

How would we be in contact after he was gone? He asked me to think of ways. I could not find many… just had a vague idea of how to and told him. He smiled.

“You're very clever, Joe. Very clever indeed... This is not over yet”, he said.

***

“You know music is my life.” 

That statement was far more serious than I expected it to be, so I asked him: 

“What song would you chose for a walk with me?” “

Ockap”, he said, “Between you and me”. 

When I asked him why, he said he did not know, but I assumed he just did not want to tell me what his heart was feeling at that moment, maybe on behalf of his self preservation.

I said: “if I had to choose a song to remind me of you it would be ‘My immortal’ by Evanescence - and you know why”.

He smiled softly, looked at me tenderly, put the song to play... and asked me, as if it were the most natural thing to be done: 

“Joe, shall we walk?”

How could I refuse to give in to his proposal, if minutes before I was weeping for the loss I was about to be forced to accept?

That time he tasted my emotions with hungry eyes. He looked at me as if he wanted to keep all he could in his memory from that very moment on. The only thing I could say was “stay with me, please”. I wanted to be there forever, indefinitely looking at him, making him a part of my secluded and warped life. My heart was broken again, but I resisted my tears. I looked at him for as long as I could. His body was a wonder I would no longer share the pleasure with. His poignant eyes would no longer be light to my days. His smile would no longer keep me away from distress. His wings would still be broad enough. His flight, however, was taking him away from me.

When I was left on my own, though, I cried for the loss and for the solitude I started to feel.

***

I was sitting at the edge of the bed staring at the angel who was lying in there, not far from where I was. He was a tiger with lion heart and angel wings. He moved slowly, stretched out, lazily opened his eyes and looked at me… smiling.

He then got up, came to my direction and rested his hands on my shoulders, kissing my head - lightly. The sensation I had was the touch of an angel’s wing on my head. I closed my eyes, feeling a tempest of my own tears drowning my busted soul.

Unacquainted of the battle I was fighting inside, he walked off on his way to the shower. I did not follow him, just watched the way he moved, so graciously in the room, like a beautiful and strong feline – sometimes tamed, sometimes wild - attracting my attention like a magnet. As if noticing my eyes on his back, he turned his head around and smiled again.

Oh, God! That gorgeous grin of his… I could stare at his joyful face for the rest of my days… and he was fully aware of that.

I am not good at farewells, I recognize it. Before my emotions were deeper into sorrow and misery, I stood up, put my clothes back on and left to the door. Saying goodbye would be the worst thing to do, as I knew I could never release him from my grip if I did. All I wanted was to be his… and that would not be possible any more.

Before leaving for good I stopped, listening to the sound of the running water coming from the bathroom. The image he was washing the last traces of my presence from his life, came to my mind, anticipating the nostalgia of future times, as a gloomy shadow crossed my spirit. I, before inevitably closing that door behind me, heard him say the words that still keep on echoing in my ears.

“It is not over yet, Joe. I will be waiting for you”.

Holding the door knob in my cold hand, I bit my lower lip and shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. He knew very well how to tease me and how to catch me. My passion was overflowing in devoted tears when I whispered, more to myself than to be really heard: 

“I love you, my angel. Never forget that”.

I dropped the apartment keys on top of the table at the entrance, feeling shuddered and entirely distraught inside. At that very moment I was leaving pieces of my shattered heart right there, aside of the keys. 

Then I pulled the door behind my back and walked away decided not to look back ever again.