Dylan

I pull up to the house and walk calmly up the driveway as I check my headspace. How will I tell him? How will he react when I tell him? Taking a sip of water from my black and white tumbler, I realize that I am not nervous at all. I’m at peace. Bryce always makes me feel like all the pieces of my life have fallen into place.

I unlock the door and the lights are still off. The curtains have been partially drawn so that only a stream is shining through. Everything is quiet.

“Bryce?”

I speak softly into the room. Something about this moment and all the things going on inside me, make me want to speak in hushed tones.

“I’m here.”

He responds with a soft tone of his own. I peak over my white couch, and I see him lying on the floor. Bryce has a section of my closet all to himself and a drawer in my dresser. He’s showered and changed into one of the outfits he left behind. Dressed in a black fitted T-shirt, black fitted jeans, a black belt with a plain silver buckle, he looks every bit the movie star he is.

I sit on the arm of the couch and watch him play with the stream of light coming from the partly covered windows. The light plays across his face, and he looks as gorgeous as ever. My heart swells. I love this man and it doesn’t even feel weird to think that.

Bryce looks up at me with eyes that first make sure I am physically and emotionally sound. When he is satisfied that I am, he looks back to the light beam and wiggles his fingers around in it.

“How was breakfast?”

I hum in response. He doesn’t look at me as he asks, and I am glad because he would see literal hearts in my eyes if he did. I need get a grip before I come on too strong.

“Are you hungry? I brought some pastries.”

He tilts his head back to look at me upside down then he looks forward again.

“I’ll have some later. Come sit with me.”

I obediently sit crisscross apple sauce next to him and stare at the white sheer curtains behind the thicker blue/gray drapes. I can just make out the pool and the tall wooden fence behind it. This moment feels so ordinary and calm, like I could be lulled to sleep any moment. I am far from bored though. 

Usually, my mind races a mile a minute and electricity buzzes through my limbs. I always need to be doing something. Bryce has a way of making my brain believe that nothing is more important than the here and now. There is no other place I need to be.

Bryce reaches out and takes my hand. I look at him with wide eyes.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

Is he about to say what I think he is? No way!  I want to be the one to officially confess. I want him to know that I see all the effort he puts into our relationship. I want him to know how loved I feel and how I want him to feel the same way. But I can’t form words at this moment. My heart is in my throat.

“I think you should see a doctor about your anxiety.”

“Oh.”

I did not expect that. It makes sense though. Bryce still believes that I had a panic attack last night.

Without letting go of his hand, I lie down next to him and stare at the ceiling.

“I started therapy the week after I asked you to leave my house. There is no way I would have been able to function otherwise. I’ve made some adjustments to my diet and exercise routine; I drink less caffeine, I am supposed to practice yoga, but I can’t seem to focus when I sit still and…I needed to take medication for a while. You and Amy are the only ones who know about this. Telling others makes me feel exposed and that makes everything worse.”

I did not expect this to be the confession I gave him today. I look over to gauge his reaction and he is just staring at me. No judgement or anything. He’s only listening.

“Bryce?”

“Yes?”

I roll over to him until I can gently press my forehead to his chest. He instinctively puts his arms around me and slowly strokes my back.

“I love you.”

The words feel natural coming out of my mouth. Bryce doesn’t skip a beat.

“I love you too, Dylan.”

By the tone of voice he is using and the slow rhythm of his heart, I can tell he doesn’t get the full meaning of my words. He is telling his friend Dylan that he loves him, not his potential lover. I don’t feel the need to make him understand just yet. I thought I had a handle on these feelings, but I feel like a balloon is inflating in my chest. It seems I need a time adjust, but there is no rush.  

Bryce never makes me feel like I need to rush.