“Do you wanna come over later?”
“Yes, I would love to come over to your house. When?”
“I know I said later but now is good too.”
“Sure. I’ll walk over now.”
“No. No girlfriend of mine will ever walk, anywhere. Especially alone,” He said.
“I already left the house. So ha!”
“How?”
“I knew you wanted to meet up as soon as you called. You only hit me up when you want to do something so....”
“Wow. You make me sound like such a bad guy?”
“That’s cause you are.”
We shared a cute laugh over the phone. A feeling of contentedness that one could drown in. In that moment you became the bliss you felt. Fading to the romanticisation of the little moments. That's love.
“Anyways...I’ll see you soon I guess?”
“Bye Oliver.”
“Bye Alaska?”
I put the phone down. He’s so awkward. What am I gonna do with him… Probably just give him unconditional, unending love and support ? As I walked the road to Oliver’s house I realized how mechanical it all felt. Natural almost but yet every so often I would lose touch with my surroundings. But when the gears stopped and I looked up at a face brick castle walls of Oliver’s house.
“I’m here…” I sent as a text to him.
And within an instant the garage door opened to reveal Oliver waiting for me in an empty driveway.
“So where’s your mom?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up and she was gone…. I mean she’s coming back. I hope…"
“Wow… you have some real abandonment issues.”
“I know right?”
“So, we’re home alone then?”
“Yup. For now.”
“Wanna make the most of it?”, Oliver said with the most suggestive smirk imaginable.
“Sure.” I said with a mirrored expression.
And so we went inside and prepared the house for our anime marathon. We had waited a whole six months for this movie. Well I guess since it’s a movie it’s not a marathon but I’m not a stickler for the rules so I don’t care. The movie's called Kimi no Na Wa. A love story that explores the idea of searching for and missing someone, you haven’t met yet. Typical sappy teenager stuff. It was okay… I guess. Oliver said it would be sad after all this director's considered the next Hayao Miyazaki. It wasn’t that sad though.(I’m not crying you’re crying…).
Afterwards we kinda just sat there on his bed. And laid there on Instagram going through memes, quotable captions and decent photography here and there.
“Oliver.”
“Yes?”
“I’m hungry.”
“We could make bacon and pancakes?”
“You know that sounds really good but super unhealthy right?”
“And you know I’ve made peace with dying at 25 right?”
“Fair enough.”
“Good. Now, let’s make pancakes.”
And so we went to his kitchen. I was praying that he knew what he was doing because I'm the worst cook… But with my luck he actually was. Oliver suddenly became suave and sophisticated in the kitchen. Failing here and there when he tried to go over and beyond his pancake flipping abilities. I wonder if pancake batter can be cleaned off the ceiling? But his cooking was worth the mess. The bacon was cooked to perfection and its umami was salient yet was calmed by the nectarous maple syrup. The pancakes were discs of culinary perfection with a consistent ratio of fluffiness to their crisped exterior. This was ambrosia.
“Are you trying to kill me Oliver?”
“Not yet. Why?”
“That was amazing. Since when could you cook. You never mentioned it ever?”
“I can’t cook. This is technically baking that counts as a meal, if you ask me.”
“Wait. We just ate pancakes for lunch. This was so good but now feels so wrong…”
“Okay. So i guess we’ll never have pancakes for lunch again?”
“No, wait. Let’s not go that far.”
And just like that he had me completely. My heart and my stomach. We soon found ourselves lying on his bed together and I don’t remember much but eventually I woke up an hour or two later. Lying on his bed, in his arms. When I eventually came to I realized and I had gotten too comfortable. I ended up drooling on him a little. I had to embark on my own little mission impossible to try and get rid of it without waking him up. Luckily he had tissues nearby and I could dabbed it off of his arm.
As I gazed down dotingly. I saw my smol bean. My erratic, neurotic anxious mess known as Oliver Pines was at peace. Macbeth said it best (and I’m paraphrasing here) Sleep soothes everything and puts day to rest. But Oliver slept as if he put aeons to sleep. I look at him and wonder if we could live in this moment forever. A moment of serenity, intimacy, purity and admiration. Where neither of us worry of the future, the space time-continuum or other normal teenager stuff. The stuff of chimeric dreams. But enough of dreams. The moment is now and he is mine. I want to able to appreciate this, be happy now as well as when I reflect… I think for once I am truly happy.
“Thanks Oliver.” I said caressing his wavy locks out his face.
He murmured something and stirred awake.
“Morning Sleeping Beauty.”
“Why does everyone call me that?”
“What?”
“No, just whenever I wake up someone calls me that. Lowkey I’m not even pretty…”
“Don’t worry Oliver. I’ll always think you’re pretty.” I said with a teasing smile.
“Ugh. You know exactly what I want to hear.” He said with a chuckle.
“Alaska…”
“Yes?”
“We’ve never had a conversation. Like those cliche conversations from movies. The kind that's handed to the audience. Written as if we just happen to walk in on their conversation. Often because the writer couldn’t think of a good way to begin the conversation?”
“You watch the kind of rom coms filled with those clichés don't you?”
“See. If we had a conversation like that you would know what kind of movies I watch.”
“But Oliver we talk like everyday?”
“Yah but we talk about who we are as people,our shared interests and stuff like our days. Conversations that kind just scratch the surface of who we are as people. That's how we were be able to plant flowers in each other. Now we gotta let them take root…”
“No more shakespeare before bed for you, but okay I get what you mean. I really do only now realise how little we know about each other. Wow, we’re so shallow…”
“I know right.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“What do you wanna know about me?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think this far ahead....”
“Uhm… I got it. What’s your top 5 bands/ artists?”
“Only four come to mind. Movements, they’re a really new band in the post-hardcore scene, Citizen which is a staple of the hardcore scene.”
“I never knew you were THIS edgy. See how much we’re learning about each other already.”
“Anyways. I’m also really into The 1975. I know what you’re thinking but they’re not that bad and they’re not edgy and listening to them doesn’t make me a sjw.”
“I so wasn’t thinking that.”
“Funny. Oli I know how opinionated you are. But finally the last band that comes to mind is kinda embarrassing. It’s super embarrassing. It’s a really cute indie band called Nevershoutnever. I love all their songs. They’re the perfect embodiment of the cute feelings of lov-liking someone.”
“You know love is some deep stuff. Especially stuff about the heart..”
“Yes! Like the whole thing about tugging at your heartstrings. You know how some old people die of a broken heart like a week after their partner dies? Sometimes it’s because their heartstrings snap and their hearts fails. The emotional trauma actually strains the heartstrings. So if you think about it. Isn’t the saying tugging at your heartstrings this deep and beautiful metaphor for how falling for and flirting with someone is this dangerous game? In which we dance with fate and our livelihood? Like doing so is giving them the key to your death? Sorry for that super random outburst. I’ve been waiting to tell you this fact. I know you’re the only person who could appreciate prose so beautiful.”
(Note from Oliver : I’m nowhere near as smart as her, but I love her for it.)
“I was just going to make a really stupid pun. But after that analogy I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because then you’d know how stupid I am compared to you. I need to stay aloof. An enigma. “
“You know they cracked the enigma code eventually right?. The same way that I’ll crack you.”
“With math?”
“No idiot. Focusing all my time on you.”
“Aww. I can almost guarantee some guy threw away their life to solving it though...”
“Kinda like I am with you? So what are your favourite artists/bands?”
“Uhm. I listen to all of these people for their lyrics or because their music is atmospheric. So it’s gotta be Joji, he makes very atmospheric, heavily layered music called lofi. My favourite rapper is J.Cole. He doesn't swim in his metaphors. He makes up for it in storytelling and his advice. He plays the role of the big brother we never knew we needed and acts as Hip Hop's spirit guide. Rather than coming off as pretentious. I love this lofi producer called, killedmyself. His songs are so beautiful. They illustrate the kind of despondency and misery created through personal experience. There's also Blackpink. They’re a kpop group. They're an outlier. While their lyrics are deep and amazing especially since they’re a pop group. I can’t understand them because it’s in Korean. But they’re so adorable and their music is so uplifting that they can always lift my spirits. The last one is a true dark horse. I too love the band movements. I stumbled upon them on Youtube one day and fell in love with how they do some spoken word in their songs.”
“Wow. I expected none of those artists but I love that we at least have that band in common. What’s your favourite song of theirs?”
“Nineteen. I relate to its story way more than I should.” (Dear reader go listen to this song and anything else I mentioned. It will not only let you know Alaska and Oliver but the author too.)
“Mines gotta be Daylily.”
“I haven’t heard that one. What’s it about?”
“So the song is basically a story of of someone struggling with what I believe to be depression and anxiety. Then a friend notices this struggle and progress. They reference how they’re outside for the first time in a long time. They ask them to lose themself to the sunlight and that they deserve to have a pink cloud summer. This is like saying their friend deserves to be happy. They should surround themselves with the feeling of happiness. The idea of a pink cloud summer could be about them deserving to be carefree and forget their anxiety. To just enjoy their life. Think about it. You really have to let go of a lot of stuff in life to spend your time on enjoying the view of pink tinted clouds.”
“Wow. That’s honestly really beautiful… But are you okay? Because I know from experience that movements songs have two stories. The writer’s and your own. Yes, that’s super cliché but try and tell me i’m wrong.”
“Yah. I’m okay. I haven’t been for a long time but I think I’m finally happy. When I’m with you. I’m by myself.”
“Do you always speak in cryptic metaphors?”
“Yes. Do you know what it means though?”
“Yes but tell me anyways…”
“ I feel so incomplete without you. Essentially, I can only be myself with you because you fulfil me so much that I can feel whole.”
“Alaska May. That is the most beautiful and pure thing that has ever been said to me. I love you…”
An awkward silence creeped in as I froze. I mean I love him I just can’t do this to myself.
“Uhm…”
“Uhm no. It’s fine. I know it’s too soon and you may not be ready to say it but I know that I love you Alaska. You grew flowers in the darkest parts of me. But besides that love is inevitable. We can’t stop it. Much like the flow of time. You’ll be able to say it someday. I know it.” he said with the deepest most sincere smile that masqueraded his crestfallen hope.
“...speaking of flowers. That’s my favorite part of Daylily. The whole concept of the song is embracing happiness but because we should do because our lives are limited. Because daylilies bloom for one day and then die. Its as if we were saying that even if today were our only day to bloom it would have been worth it because for once we were happy?” I said with a weird, frantic and awkward grin.
“You really do love that song don’t you?” he said with a chuckle.
“And before I forget, daylilies help to forget pain. Just like you do Oli.”
“Then it’s settled. Alaska May. We’ll live like daylilies. We’ll live as if each day had built up to this very moment, taking nourishment in our pasts and bloom for today. All in vain of being forgotten by time and our possible deaths…”
“Oliver...”
I was interrupted by the beeping of my watch beeping as it had just struck another hour. It was 6:00PM.
“...Sorry Oliver. I have to leave now. It might get dark soon.”
“I’ll walk you?”
“Sure. But only till the beginning of the path. I enjoy the walk alone.”
“Okay. I can respect that compromise.”
And so we walked quietly hand in hand. IN PUBLIC. We really were living as if we had started a new life. The neighbourhood looked beautiful in the spring evening. The sky was divided by a single strip of clouds that seemed to be the hand of time moving its progress. With one half being the fading ombre of reds, yellows and oranges and occasional light blues. The other being the night sky and its many holes that peeked through. Both sides bathed us in their light or absence of it. Twilight really was the most beautiful time of day. Where time ceased to exist in this weird yet beautiful middle point.
We didn’t speak much but we were both happy. Well, I was happy. s
So it’s basically the same thing right?
“Oliver. Remember how you asked if I was okay? So there was obviously a time when I wasn’t... In my room under a loose floorboard. There’s a small metal box with a bunch of letters from when I wasn’t. If anything happens to me. I want you to have the box. You’re the only one I trust with it. I’m sorry it’s not the kind of opening up to you like saying “I love you”. But I’m still just as vulnerable…”
He cut me off mid explanation by grabbing hold of me. Saying nothing just comforting me. I think he knew how difficult all this was for me and saw I was trying in my own way for him and my sake because I love him. I just can’t say it.
He let go and replied, “That’s really specific but okay…. I will respect your wishes.”
Soon we parted ways and he left for home and I drifted towards the husk.
We parted at the path with him stopping and me walking forward down the path. As much as I enjoyed my alone time, time with him was a close second. Never could i have imagined wanting to hold onto someone else’s sweaty hand so much but if it was his, i was fine.
I left him with the words, “Goodbye, my honeysuckle.”
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