Michael

The indistinguishable chatter bounces off the concrete walls as the smell of fresh coffee lingers. He reaches for her hand across the table, far enough to make it an awkward stretch. She makes no effort to make it easier for him, but touches his hand lightly. He tries to capture some form of eye contact but she seems content with looking at her surroundings. 

He has never been a religious person, but he often thought God created her for him. Her touch was made for his skin, Her eyes made to look at him, Her hair made for his hands to run through. He loved her truly and deeply. Still, he felt unworthy. He always notices other boys looking at them. He can sense their confusion, as if they were questioning why she was with him. He worried about this daily. Why was she with him? These questions always created a cloud of destruction in his mind, causing him to do more and more things for her to combat this worry. As if the more he did, the more she would love him.  He dressed extra nice today, wearing his expensive Tommy Hilfigure trench coat, some clean straight pants and his nails cut perfectly. She knew he was going to ask her something he would soon regret. 

She’s been with him for 221 days now.

She thinks she's never felt love. Never really understood the meaning behind the words “I love you”. She’s the type of girl to get double looks on the train. Not that she was overwhelmingly beautiful, yet her presence felt special. A mole sat above her upper lip and her nails were always blue……. She hated the colour blue. She’s had boyfriends in the past, she leaves them eventually. They tend to message her a few months later saying how good they are doing and how many girls they’ve been fucking. She feels sorry for hurting them but doesn't entertain it. She thought this boy was different. He makes her laugh more than anyone in the past. He has that nerdy but sexy look to him. Scruffy long hair, Slim but not muscular and he had a patchy tattoo sleeve with a collection of all his favourite films, music, memories. He always treated her with respect but sometimes she found it too overwhelming, as if his whole life purpose was to just serve her. She hated it.

They broke up that day at the cafe. The details are unnecessary. She left. He didn’t. She wanted more. He wanted her. She got engaged 4 months later. They were to meet once more in their lives, at that same cafe, 6 months later.

The cold air spread through my lungs and each breath I took reminded me of that feeling. I was Sitting with my drunk friend, the smell of tobacco deeply ingrained into his skin, he was rambling about something but my mind was elsewhere. I was watching this couple. They were sitting opposite us, about 20 meters or so away. The girl had his coat tightly wrapped around her like she was experiencing comfort for the first time. Their eyes communicated with each other and their smiles were consistent. It’s hard not to smile with them, although it would look extremely weird if I was to, so I looked back to my drunk friend Matt. His eyes wouldn’t be able to communicate with anyone for at least another 4 hours. I haven’t known him very long, it’s been about 2 months since we met and 1 month since we’ve been good mates, he reminds me of a friend I used to have back home, I think that's why we get on so well. The bond between us grew quickly and I’ve made memories with him that I’ll keep with me for life. Matt looks terrible at the moment, even in this cold weather his sweat slowly drops down his forehead. The sky begins to change colour as the morning runners come out, we need sleep, but my mind is stuck on this couple and thoughts of the past. After looking back up, they were off.

Walking away with her head tucked neatly under his arm. That feeling creeps in closer and closer. It’s never a damaging feeling, in fact, I always find it intriguing, I assume everyone feels it. That sense of loneliness in a place where loneliness shouldn’t exist. How can one feel so alone in a world crowded with 7 billion people? But my main thought this time was if that couple ever felt this feeling. I’ve not experienced this feeling, I’ve always felt alone even when I'm not supposed to, but they were engrossed in one another. They were in their world. Together. 

It’s always been hard for me to fall in love. I've worried about it before but it’s always most prevalent in times like this. I’ve never been one to search for Love, I’ve always just gone with the flow but maybe that’s why I’ve never felt that blissfulness that couple seemed to have felt. I know it's a feeling you shouldn’t avoid. It’s a feeling to pursue, to chase, to crave. The feeling is celebrated worldwide, even fantasised about, yet it’s a form of self-harm that’s inevitable to most. So what’s the fucking point? What’s the fucking point of building and building this feeling over and over again for someone or something to come and slowly or furiously destroy it? everyone must think this at some point in their life, it’s exhausting. It must have been 10 times more exhausting for him, yet he hid it from us all so well. I miss him. 

It was 2019, We were sitting on his bed, the white lights were abusive to my eyes but we were too engrossed in conversation to care about the scenery, as it was to be our last. His name was Lachie, we had known each other for 3 years, meeting through work. We clicked almost instantly, talking shit about the boss, and making fun of his walk, it was a perfect first shift of a new job. Since then we did a lot together outside of work, just typical teenage boy shit. Over time I got to see him less and less, he was sick, so he wasn’t allowed out very often or when he could he got tired extremely quickly. Which was okay to me because we didn’t need to go anywhere to enjoy our time together, he still got tired from laughing though which we tended to do a lot of. Our last conversation will stay with me forever. It started with us discussing the funniest moments we had shared. We knew these moments would mean very little to others and wouldn’t have been funny at all, which is what made them so special to us. The conversation grew deeper as the minutes flew past. We were squeezed onto his hospital bed, the handle dug into my side but I didn't want to move. The room was white, wires and noises surrounded him daily but he never seemed bothered. He always seemed rather chirpy when I saw him as if what he was going through didn’t affect him, just everyone around him. We continued to talk, straying away from funny moments with all the girls he had been with. Lachie was better at love than me, he had better luck with the girls since he was young. He had brilliant charisma and he knew how to work his sickness, which he called his benefit when it came to getting girls. Lachie was bald when I first met him and stayed bald until he passed away, the girls were always so intrigued and he loved it. Lachie went quiet after this discussion. It took him a while to talk again and his tone had changed.

 “Do you think I will be missing out on love?” Lachie asked me. We have had deep conversations before about life, death, and all the in-betweens but never love. It felt taboo. I remember searching the room for an answer, what could I say in a moment like this; oh no you won’t miss out at all, you will get to experience it again. But I knew he would see that as a lie and hurt him more than help. He had a long-term girlfriend before but they broke up a while back as he thought it to be for the best for her. He did love her, he truly loved her. The day he broke up with her was painful to everyone, so for him to ask me if he would miss out on love, I knew he meant if he would miss out on Kayla’s love. But I couldn’t think of a response quickly enough before he started talking again. 

“I want you to experience it.” He said quietly before pausing and turning his neck to look at me. His pale skin and bright blue eyes were inches away from me, an image I carry with me when I think of Lachie. 

“You have to just fucking go for it. Look at me lad, as cringe as it is, life is too fucking short” he said with a smile.

He died a few days later. It was my first experience of death. Although he left us with a smile, I will always think about what his life could have been like.

As Matt throws up next to me I get snapped back into reality. I laugh, I know I am not supposed to in a time like this and I usually wouldn’t, but with Lachie fresh in my memory, all I can do is smile. He wipes his mouth, sits up straight, and begins to drunkenly laugh with me. I see bits of Lachie in Matt and I think that's why we click so well. I stand up finally and help Matt up with me. “C'mon lad, we gotta find a place to sleep,” I say as I wrap his arm around my shoulder carrying most of his body weight. So we headed off.