"Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past, bringing back these memories I wish I didn't have. Sometimes I think of letting go and never looking back, and never moving forward so there'd never be a past."
---
The meanings of our words always vary according to how easily we say them, how frequently they are used.
"I love you, I love you, I love you."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
When we throw these out like spare change, when nobody has to work to hear them, they will only hold meaning to those desperate enough to believe them.
Repetition is the silent killer of meaning.
When you repeat a word so many times effortlessly, it starts to lose its meaning, the word nothing but an empty shell, an empty promise.
Love fades, intentions change and pain ebbs away.
Chris, Chris, Chris.
I'm scared.
I don't want to remember him, don't want to relive the pain any longer, yet I am afraid of forgetting him, of losing the one thing that has kept me sane for years.
He is my memory to hold, my brother to know, my pain to feel.
If I ever have to let go of him in order to stop the pain, to be able to love again, I don't know if I'll be able to do it. I don't know if I'll want to, because without mom and I, who else will remember him?
He is dead, and the dead don't think, or feel, or matter at all, but he means too much to me to be forgotten, to be thrown aside as if he didn't once exist, as if he didn't have his dreams.
I wonder, if I ever go through with my contemplations, will I too be forgotten, the meaning of my existence left unacknowledged?
"I love you, Nick."
I glance up at Kyle, who is looking at me across the lunch table, both certain of his feelings, yet uncertain of my reaction.
He loves me, at least he thinks he does. I don't know if I should be happy, or surprised, or afraid.
So I just nod, and he smiles gently, patiently, knowing that I am not yet ready to reciprocate his exact feelings. I don't know if I'll ever be ready.
I don't know if I want to hear him say it again, and with that thought, I don't know if I fear the thought of him actually loving me, or the thought of it starting to lose its meaning.
Across the table, Aiden and Sylvia share yet another kiss, their affection innocent and gentle. I want to be able to do that, to let go of everything and just feel. That thought stays in my head until I realise that Sylvia deserves to be loved, so much more than I do, while I'm just a walking disaster.
I immediately shoot that thought back down.
---
"Mom wants to meet you."
Kyle raises an eyebrow, surprise on his face.
"Really? Does she know about us?"
I shrug.
Only that I like you.
I mentally shake my head. I agreed to this, to being his mate. We're technically in a relationship, so why pretend otherwise?
"She knows I like you." I finally say, and the smile on his face makes it all worth it. I find myself willing to go through lengths just to keep that smile on his face, and that scares me. Had infatuation always been this dangerous?
He holds a hand out, hesitantly waiting for permission to lay it on my hand resting on the park bench between us. I nod, and we hold hands, looking every bit the innocent schoolboys that we aren't.
I keep my gaze on the children at the playground in front of us, at the trees in the park, at anything but him in fear that his happiness is contagious. I already start to feel my lips twitch into a smile. Is this what it feels like to be in a relationship?
"When do I meet your mother?"
I squint at him.
"Do you want to?"
This is supposed to be the nightmare of every teenage boy, to meet the parents of their love interest, and gain their approval. There are so many things that can go wrong. Is Kyle truly ready to meet mom, am I ready to introduce him as my boyfriend?
Boyfriend.
I like the sound of it, more than I should.
He nods in response.
"She's only home from 1am to 7am." I reply. "So it's probably not possible, unless..."
Unless you'd like to stay over.
He smiles softly, seeming to notice my discomfort.
"Why don't I pick you up tomorrow? I'll at least be able to introduce myself, " he hesitates, "if you're okay with that."
I purse my lips to stop them from stretching any wider and nod.
His smile widens, and he squeezes my hand affectionately, sending sparks through my body.
We spend the rest of the day in silence, comfortable in each other's presence.
---
"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" He asks when we reach my house. He is awkward, the blush on his face making him all the more adorable.
I nod, and he grins, starting to once again exude confidence.
He leans forward.
"Do I get a kiss goodbye from my boyfriend?"
I roll my eyes, but stand on the tips of my toes as I press a quick kiss to his cheek, turning my head away to hide my blush. At times like these, I start to question my own sanity.
I compose myself and glance at him, only to find him dazed with the widest grin on his face, as if he just won the jackpot.
He physically shakes himself out of it then pouts at me, his eyes starting to water.
"What about a kiss on the lips?"
I scoff and roll my eyes again, turning to unlock the door to my house. I take one step inside, and then two, and turn to Kyle.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late."
He nods eagerly with a grin.
"I love you, Nick."
I hesitate.
"I like you too," is all I manage to say before I slam the door in his face, not willing to see his reaction. I lean back against the door, feeling exhausted by the three words that just came out of my mouth. They take too much effort to say, but I'm starting to think maybe it's worth it.
I may not be ready for love, but I can confess my liking him. Maybe I'll say it too much, maybe it'll start to lose meaning, but a part of me hopes that when that time comes, I'll be ready to tell him I love him.