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Note to Diz: I was originally going to name it "Oh My God Diz I Cannot Title This For You" but it didn't fit in the header. If you think of a title you like better, let me know and I'll change it. -Mer
I couldn't understand why we were doing this, but every instinct I had was telling me to avoid it. Elijah was beginning to drive me past my own masochistic limits with these little whims of his; randomly taking us out whenever we were all together to go on odd little excursions to experiment with whatever he had recently taken a liking to. As if we hadn't bonded enough. Granted, they were fun, but still- odd. Last time we had tried to tie-dye our own shirts and each had ended up with a fantastically grey garment that we wore with pride: the fruit of our efforts. Today he had taken us to a small blueberry patch that he knew of through some friends of his. He wanted to make pies with hand-picked blueberries.The others were all enjoying themselves, but I couldn't bring myself to it. Billy had a nice purplish tinge to the area around his mouth and maybe two berries in his bucket. Orlando and Sean were having a competition to see who could fill up his bucket the quickest. I was meandering around, randomly picking berries, lost in thought for the most part, and I could not see Elijah. It was better like that anyhow. I didn't want to be around him; didn't want to be any place close to him. I was beginning to be worn down by the effort it took and the lengths I went to to avoid him. I don't know if he noticed it or not. I was hoping for the latter though, because if he had taken note of my behavior, he was sure to draw attention to it sometime. He would most likely ask if I were angry with him, for some unknown reason. Ironically, that couldn't be further from the truth, and yet so true at the same time. Yes, I was furious at him. Furious because he was making me feel this way and furious because there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't decide if I wanted to hit him or kiss him- but these damned trips of his were making it harder and harder for me. I was going to snap.
What was it about him? Those illicit blue eyes? The sinfully smooth skin? His tousled-yet-meticulous brown hair? It could have been any of those things (the ones that captured the hearts of so many others), but it wasn't. It was the curve of his jaw and the width of his shoulders. It was the way he acted- impulsively and somehow still thoughtful. It was the way he cursed the coffee maker every morning, and these stupid fucking trips that I loved and hated so much. I didn't love him though- I had convinced myself of that much. Nothing outside the parameters of friendly and brotherly love, oh no, of course not. This was pure and unadultered lust; the only reason I could convince myself that I was going to get over it, right? Somehow though, this little crush was lasting a hell of a lot longer than necessary. It had formally worn out its welcome, and yet still persisted.
I had been slacking on my berry-picking, lost in my own reverie. I was staring into the bushes in front of me, not really seeing them. When they did come into focus, the first thing I saw was Elijah, prowling amongst them. Hunting for the perfect berries. He seemedto me to be like a panther looming through the mists as he searched for some form of solitude amongst vines that were bustling with jungle inhabitants. God, he was beautiful. I didn't think I could take it anymore. I made my way toward him, careful so as not to brush up against any branches that might betray my position to him. My bucket swang softly at my side and I was afraid that the handle might squeak; it didn't. I reached him in relative silence until I was within arm's reach of his shoulders. From the close distance, I observed him for a little longer. He was lost in thought and making a little ceremony of inspecting every berry before approving it. I, too, soon became lost in thought, making a ceremony of inspecting him. The shout startled both of us.
"'ey, Dom! C'mere for a sec to look at my berries." Orlando raised his eyebrows suggestively at me, and I quickly glanced at Elijah before sprinting over to him. I was startled by what I saw in his face. What did I see in his face? I don't know. Anger? Jealousy? Hurt? My stomach turned as I thought of why that might be. Was he jealous of me? Did he wants Orlando's attention? That had to be it. I resolved then and there to keep Elijah in the back of my mind, where he could no longer hurt me. Why pine for someone who wants another one of your friends anyway?
~*~
"God-fucking-damn! I just want to make a pot of coffee! What the hell?!" I awoke to Elijah's usual ranting at that damn machine that any simpleton could run. You would think that after three weeks with the new coffee maker he would figure it out. No, every morning he woke me up and I left the comfort of his guest bedroom to make him a pot of coffee. He would mumble his thanks, apologize for waking me up, and then ask if I wanted breakfast. If I said yes, he would fool with the stove for a while until I made us both some eggs or until he got frustrated enough; upon the case of the latter, he would pour us both some cereal.
It had been two weeks since the berry-picking episode and the pies he made us were delicious- even though it took him all day cursing at every kitchen appliance he owns. But now, I was sure that he was planning another excursion (as we were soon due for another), even through all of his coffee-making woes. Most of the time I had succeeded in keeping him away from my thoughts, but there were still those times when he managed to creep in and wreak havoc upon my day without even knowing he was doing it. On such days as those, I would become moody and snap at anyone who inquired about it. I was especiallly short with Orlando, as I couldn't bring myself to accept the fact that it was he that Elijah wanted and not me. Orlando became equally as short-tempered with me as I with him and my only reasoning as to why was that he had somehow figured me out and was in my same situation. Damn that blue-eyed cherub.
I made the coffee, like every other morning, and we each sat down to some frosted flakes. This was going to be one of those days. One of the ones when all I could think about was him, and he refused to be pushed back to the recesses of my brain again. I would see his name in everything I read, and the radio would have a marathon of all his favorite songs. Maybe I should just go for it. You never know until you try, right? Yes. I would do it. No more wondering. No more of this damn 'What If?' game. (Don't you hate that game?) What have I got to lose? Only my dignity and best friend.
Fuck.
He arose from the table to put his bowl in the sink. I would wash the dishes later. The dishwasher had this little trick to it... I also got up under the pretense of putting my bowl up. We stood, shoulder to shoulder, for a few moments too long. You could cut the cliche tension with the proverbial dull knife. We both had to say something. We both waited for the other to say it. I don't remember what I was waiting for, after all. I didn't even want to hear what he had to say.
Couldn't this work out? Couldn't I just be wrong about the whole situation? It could be me, and not Orlando that he wanted. It could be that we both wanted to say the same thing, but were each fearing rejection from the other. Why else would he be waiting here like this? That had to be it. He wanted me to. Oh great god in heaven above, is that truly it? There was no other explanation. All of my waiting and wondering, all of those sleepless night had been in vain. Oh! if only I had done this sooner! All of this could be behind us, we could be happy. We could be together.
"Elijah-"
"Dom-"
We spoke simultaneously, and also gave the courteous moment of silence in which each was waiting for the other to speak. We both tried speaking again at the same time- as always.
"I have to tell-"
"We need to talk-"
Again the moment of silence. I could take it no longer. Frantically, I leaned over with my eyes closed, praying to Jesus, Mary, Joseph and a camel that I didn't miss my mark. I didn't. (I think it was the camel that did it for me.) There was passion- there was fire! My god, it was amazing. It was all I had dreamed about, and I couldn't immediately understand why I hadn't done it before. Our lips were together in a kiss that was to rival the great kisses of all time. Take that, Scarlett and Rhet!
In the heat of the moment, I failed to realize that my passionate kiss was not being returned. I also failed to realize that the door to the apartment had been opened, and there was now an attractive female surveying my moment (that's right, it's all mine) from the entryway to the kitchen. I opened my eyes to stare into cold, yet petrified blue ones. At that single moment in time, I knew that it could never be.
So now I also know this- there's a reason the glass is half empty. There's a reason people are the way they are. There's a reason that so many people have put up cages around their hearts and there's a reason that love, why 'it's the only thing that there's just too little of'. It's because humans have a knack for falling in love with the wrong people.
