--
i remember it well the first time that i saw
your head 'round the door 'cause mine stopped working
i remember it well there was wet in your hair
you were stood in the stair and time stopped moving
i want you here tonight i want you here
'cause i can't believe what i found
i want you here tonight want you here
nothing is taking me down
-- damien rice, i remember
Miguel didn't want to be disturbed. Not that anybody will be disturbing him. He lived alone in his apartment. But the point is, he was very particular about that detail whenever he was painting.
Thing is, he's been locked up for three days already. Falling asleep on the couch while looking at a line on his canvass, thinking if it was done correctly and if it were in the proper place, or studying a particular shade of color. Darker... lighter... he's not sure, really. His eyes have been starting to lose their focus.
As with men obsessed, he forgets about the normal things people should be doing -- eating, bathing -- that even his cat was staying quite some distance from him just to avoid inadvertently coughing out premature hairballs. It wasn't very comfortable, it figured.
Miguel didn't mind though. He continued what he was doing and would not let himself be disturbed.
See, there is an actual story behind this. It just seems a little in excess for simple words to be expressed. Miguel's mind was a trainwreck, and it seems he'd just gotten wind that he was still alive, getting up from the devastation, wondering where he was.
And as a matter of fact, that was the first thing he asked waking up three days ago, the morning when Daniel said he would be leaving. "Where am I?" He said muffled through a tangle of sheets and pillows.
"You're impossible, Migs." Said a voice from the other side of the room. Solid, distinct, possibly awake and real. "Only two shots of tequila last night, and already you forget? You have it easy."
Miguel refused to be intimidated. He doesn't easily get surprised anyway -- always one step ahead -- which he's quite proud of. So instead of looking to where the voice came from, he closed his eyes and he tried to focus.
OK, he thought. The voice, familiar... Daniel. The smell, coffee... my room. Last night, party... downstairs. Me, bedsheets... naked. Hmm. That was easy.
So he opened his eyes again and reached out to where he remembered his underwear was. Sure enough, he found it, and put it on before standing up, taking his time. But his heart wasn't as easy to control as his body. He found himself talking. "You know I have nothing to apologize about, Daniel."
"No," Daniel said. Almost immediately, as if he was already expecting Miguel to say something like that. "No, Migs. You don't need to apologize. There's nothing to forgive, and anyway... I'm going."
"If you wanted to go, you could have done so without waiting for me to wake up."
Miguel heard a click, and the sounds from outside his room were silenced. He still hasn't looked at where Daniel was. Now he figured he was standing by the window. He closed his eyes and imagined Daniel by the window without a his top on. The voice in his head was saying, Get up, Migs. Go to him. Give him a hug. You don't need a sledgehammer to your brain to realize how badly you hurt him.
"You're right. I could have gone. But I wanted to talk to you. You know that, don't you? We have a lot to talk about. A lot to catch up on. We had so many years between us and it led up to what happened last night, right Migs? I wanted to wait for you. I wanted to stay, Migs."
Miguel could hear Daniel's voice trembling. He was ready for this, he could tell. And he's right. All those years kept inside him are all ready to spill out now. Just like last night, when he felt Daniel's cum spill out onto his things, his side, up to his chest. Years pent up, all let loose last night by a smile, a snide remark, and a bottle of tequila. It was a headache thinking about in such silence.
He felt Daniel rustle up to the bed and lay down beside him. He turned to look. Daniel's been crying. Miguel couldn't help it. "I... I'm sorry..."
Daniel let out a chuckle. "I thought you said there were no apologies."
So Miguel shut up. "No. You're right. No apologies." And he let himself be hugged by Daniel.
"But I still have to go soon Migs."
"No, you don't. We can leave. I have a friend in Davao. We can stay with him for a while. Until..."
"You were planning this weren't you?"
Miguel didn't like it when people could read his mind, but this was Daniel. He couldn't help being transparent when he was around him. The feeling was very disconcerting, but at the same time, it felt warm to be naked beside someone. So to speak. He pulled Daniel closer for tighter hug. "Mm. I was."
Daniel kissed Miguel's chest and inhaled. "Jerk. I can't just up and leave."
"I know. I know you can't. You're too nice. Too straight laced. You refuse something like... like love to sway you from the duties you think you have to perform."
"Love. You think you know love, Migs? You think just because you're an artist, just because you paint and you have command of the colors, you know what love is? Love is just a color, Migs. It's just red. The color of blood and heat and sex."
"Why Daniel? Can't you admit that you love me?"
"You arrogant bastard. Of course I love you. That's why I want to stay and make love with you like forest fires and raging, melting polar ice caps. I want to stay with you here forever Migs."
"So stay."
"No. I love you Migs. But I can't be happy with you."
"How can you say that? I'm happy with you right now."
"It doesn't follow. Things are not supposed to be like this. I know. And I know you know too."
Miguel kept quiet. Not because he didn't have anything to say. On the contrary, what he wanted to do was shake Daniel to his senses and make him realize that he wants him to stay, that no matter what, even if he becomes miserable, he only wanted Daniel to be beside him because that's what he knows love is. That's what he believes in.
But Miguel is quiet not because of that. He was quiet because he was considering what Daniel told him. It was always like this with Daniel. Play it his way. Organize your thoughts first. Make sure what you're going to say is well thought of or Daniel will not accept it. Even though he knows Daniel would leave him in any case.
So yes, Miguel knows what happened between them has been just a cruel trick of fate. It was just something to seal what they had between them. Miguel realized the necessity of its occurrence. That should be enough for him to move on. But he feels he needs to save it, with one more weak attempt... "But I love you, Daniel..."
"I know," and Daniel pulled himself from Miguel and got up. He started getting dressed, seemingly not worried at all if Miguel would stop him or not. Which, Miguel doesn't. "I have to go Migs. Your sister's waiting for me at home."
"Oh. Is that today?"
"Yes, oh. It's today." And as an afterthought before buttoning up his polo, "... and I'd appreciate it if I didn't see you there. I'm sorry, it would be too... you know."
Miguel stood up and helped Daniel with his shirt. It just felt natural to do that. Domestic. He let out a harmless chuckle. "Hey, it's my sister's wedding too you know. I'm expected to be there."
"But your father hates you."
"But I love you."
"That too," Daniel said with a smirk.
"Shut up," and Miguel felt like college again. The two of them in the room, joking around, enjoying being kids, and enjoying each other's way of reading their minds. It was a different kind of high, having someone finish your sentences for you.
"So," Daniel turned around and looked at Miguel.
"So."
"How do I look?"
"Like someone who didn't get fucked in the ass twice -- no, thrice -- the night before."
A smile. And then, "Goodbye, Migs."
So the smile was returned, and the door was closed.
Miguel turned around, and noticed a piece of paper on the window sill, being held down by a book. It was a note from Daniel.
"I was serious when I said for you not to go. It's not as if you can follow anyway. I lied when I said Annie and I were getting married today. Truth is, we're leaving the country. We've been planning it for some time now. Our flight is at 10AM. I can't see you again Miguel. And if I do, I will pretend I don't know you. You know I'm capable of that. You changed me, and allowed me to be cold. I thought something died in me last night, and you know what? I realized something did. I can't be happy with you Miguel. Not with you in your own little world. I can't be pulled into that direction. Not even if I love you so much, so much like supernovas and big bangs and forest fires and trainwrecks. You changed me. I don't expect you to understand. I'm happy this way. That's how much I love you. Good bye."
