still so much to say…

…continued from previous entry…

Some time passed. Our conversation turned somewhat light-hearted, helping me
to forget that I was leaving in less than 9 hours. I looked at him, gathered my
courage, smiled and said, “I’m going to ask you a question, and you have to
answer me in complete honestly.” “Oh no,” He grinned. “What are you thinking
right now?” Hesitation. His penetrating stare looked past my eyes and into my
soul. Butterflies like crazy. “How much I will miss you. I don’t want you to
go.” I was thinking to myself, you lie. At this moment, you are thinking that
you want to kiss me, but you are too damn scared. He proceeded to talk about how
hard it had been for him when his brother left, and how he didn’t want to say
goodbye to someone he cares about again. His words let me know that he was
feeling the same thing I was.

Eventually, I tell him, “It’s your turn. Now ask me one.” “Alright, what are
you thinking?” Heart racing. Deep Breaths. How much I want you to kiss me more
than anything right at this moment. How much I never want this to end. How good
it feels to be here with you right now. Then my voice said, “How much I don’t
want to say goodbye. How much I will miss you.” I couldn’t say it.

We looked at the time; it was past 1:30. My mother was going to flay me
alive, I was sure of it. We started home, again, with arms around each other,
his hand in mine. We walked slowly. Stopped at the last spot the streetlights
couldn’t touch. In the darkness of the night, we looked at the sky again, and
found Mars, glowing bright. I decided I to go for it. I knew I would regret it
terribly if I didn’t do something. I was mustering my courage yet again, and who
should drive up, but my sister. “Mom is upset. If I were you I would get in the
car.” I’m thinking, shit. We get in the car; drive less than a block back to my
house. Mom isn’t as upset as I was fearing; she has always known how hard it is
for me to say goodbye. She is empathetic.

We get back in the car. Gennie drives us to his house. “Addicted,” by Simple
Plan is on the radio. He is holding my hand. I look at him and smile while I
sing the song to him. “I’m trying to forget that I’m addicted to you, but I want
it and I need it, I’m addicted to you!” He laughs.

We pull into his driveway, and I decide to walk him to the door. We step
inside his entryway, and let the glass door swing shut behind us. We stall. He
is holding both my hands, playing with them like he always does while we talk.
Tells me to write. Tells me to call. Tells me to e-mail and talk to him on aim.
His sister is in the kitchen. It seems like we’re waiting for her to go
upstairs. She does. For the 17th time, he says he’s going to miss me, hugs me
and doesn’t let go for minutes. I look at him when he finally does, and say, “I
think I deserve a better goodbye than that.” He hugs me so tight, I feel I’ll
surely burst, but I don’t care. Though I love to be wrapped up in his arms, this
wasn’t what I had in mind. “Chris,” I say, under a deep sigh, “you are
such a chicken.” “What do you mean?” He asks, feigning innocence. “I
think you know what I mean.” “I really don’t,” he says, unconvincingly, “explain
it to me.” I breath deeply, look him in the eyes, and before I can change my
mind, say, “Are you going to kiss me goodbye, or what?” He grins, leans closer,
and replies, “If you want,” and kisses me. Hugs me again. As we pull away, he
kisses me on the cheek. I look in his eyes, smiling, but holding back tears. I
hold on to his hand and back up towards the door. “Goodbye,” he whispers. I pull
back towards him and kiss him one last time. “Goodbye,” I say. I back away and
push the door open. He holds it for me. I walk down the pathway, completely
euphoric, but so sad that this is the last time I’ll see him until Christmas. I
turn, to see him watching me leave.

I climb back into the car. Gennie is waiting patiently. “Sorry I took so
long.” “Don’t worry about it.” We drive down the road in the dark. I gaze out at
the stars. I cry.