June 1st, 2014. I will never forget that day, a beauty. I remembered, it was truly a wonderful day, the weather warm and sunny. Yet nothing had compared to the green color of his eyes. They were the most mesmerizing color of green I had laid my eyes on. They were like the emerald tree boa in the lowland of the tropical rainforests. He looked completely out of place in the bland color of the passing walkers on their way to work like armies of ants storming to find food. That said, I was awestruck by his eyes; frozen I stood, afraid that leaving would mean never seeing them again. Everything else was a blur, a fleeting moment in the vastness of time, but his eyes. Oh, his eyes. Its beauty would be buried with my memories in the depths of my grave.
I remember finally finding the courage buried in the bundle of emotions to go up to him and say something. Although I knew my question was humorous, I couldn’t quite recall what I’d asked. I’d never forget his laughter, however. How could I? The melodic laughter that escaped the full lips of his. They were prettier than any other girls I had kissed. I had always wondered if they were softer, too.
Now that I am finally talking about it, I seem to forget everything else that has happened. Though, I recall a giddy feeling had filled my chest upon arriving home because I’d gotten his number. I never thought that receiving a number from someone would fill me with so much excitement. It was quite suffocating, but simultaneously, I felt as euphoric as someone smoking pot.
We had planned to meet up the following day so I could show him around town. I learned he just moved here. The night before, I spent a while rummaging through the mess that is my closet to find something good to wear. I remembered telling myself that if he were ever to see my room, he’d run away in fear. Out of embarrassment if that were ever to happen, I stayed up late at night to organize my closet. But I still couldn’t fall asleep. Could you blame me, though? My chest wouldn’t stop beating like it was in a horse race at the thought of seeing him and his emerald green eyes again.
Eventually, morning came. I knew it would because nothing could stop time, could it? I quickly got dressed before I bolted out of the door and sprinted to the place we had promised to meet up. I was out of breath by the time I arrived, but I didn’t even have enough time to think of it before pulling out my phone to check for a text when I didn’t see him. My fingers flew across the screen, rapidly typing away before clicking send. I wondered if I ever seemed like a pushover. But it didn’t matter when my eyes lit up when he messaged me back, saying he had arrived. That feeling again. The type that made your heart do those stupid beatings that you sometimes get worried if it would burst out of your chest, leaving a bloody mess for the city street sweepers to clean up.
At the time, I didn’t really care anyway. All that mattered was the approaching figure when I looked up from the message he had sent me on my phone. There he was, my eyes quickly went straight to the green ones. He was waving at me. A grin on his face. Towards me. I never knew it then, but it was always hinting at me like it was an alarm clock warning me of the inevitable.
Well. Perhaps that alarm clock had been ringing for me to wake up for a year and 3 weeks now. I wanted to wake up, but I knew if I did, I would indeed have to wake up to reality from a dream that was full of possibilities. A wishful dream. And rarely, dreams ever had a sequel. So I knew it was best that I just gave up. ‘But’. It was always a ‘but’. Maybe I was in denial. I probably always had been when I saw that cross on his neck the moment I first saw him. It was simply an accessory, but when he wore it, it was a beautiful accessory. Because it was a beautiful accessory that he had worn, I knew that I couldn’t ever hate it.
But I was selfish. But I was ignorant. But I was a man. But I can’t help it. But he was kind. But I wanted to be close to him. But his green eyes were mesmerizing. But he was beautiful. But, I loved him.
So when I sat there next to him, drinking disgusting cheap beer for just a semblance of escape from reality. It was then that I realized that his green eyes were simply an addition to the beauty he was and the cross he had worn devotedly had never made him any less beautiful. 386 days it was that it took my lips to mouth the words. I didn’t expect him to reciprocate, especially not when those green eyes of his widened in shock. He didn’t say anything. Well, I’d rather he didn’t. If he had, fear would consume me. I didn’t want to know what he had thought of me now. If I was perhaps a woman, he c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ h̶a̶v̶e̶ would have loved me. He wouldn’t have second thoughts on his response, nor would he ever be worried about prejudice. He and I, we would’ve been.
After many rapid heartbeats of silence, he stood up, leaving the can of beer he had drunk and left without saying a word. I didn’t stop him because I knew that it wouldn’t have changed anything. In a world so fearful of love, I was just a golden apple that couldn’t be eaten.
I wanted to hate myself for feeling such irrational emotions towards him. A person who I saw as a trusting person. A person that I had wished to see myself with as a lover. Yet even such emotions like hate were drowned by the amount of love I felt for him. To think that something as trivial as gender was in my way was irritating.
3 days. That was how long it had taken him to text me back. Surprise filled my bones that jittered with excitement. He asked to see me. I hadn’t expected that. In fact, I hadn’t expected anything from him. I had been broodingly depressed the past days at the thought that he would just walk away from my life, taking those devastatingly gorgeous green eyes of his along.
I had shown up like he had asked, at the park where luscious plants had grown where we usually met, far away from prying eyes. He stood there in a worn out band shirt and a slack of jeans, holding green envy zinnia that I knew were from the small garden in his apartment. He looked oddly nervous before he looked up and realized I was walking towards him. He quickly handed me the flowers before looking away. I was taken aback for a moment before he quickly said something along the lines of sorries and flowers before repeating the words I had said to him 3 days ago.
3 days for 3 words and every 3 seconds that I thought of him.
For a while bit, I had forgotten how to breathe. I felt like a fish in the saharah desert. My cheeks warmed up, my heart almost felt like a bomb about to detonate. The poor man in front of me looked like he was about to jump into the small pond next to us during the amount of time I had taken to finally say something. Though I didn’t actually say something, I did, in fact, take a quick few steps forward and pressed my lips against his. They were as soft as I had thought they were. At least that’s what I hoped to happen.
I hoped.
Maybe I had hoped too much.
But the alarm clock finally started to flood through my dreams, screaming at me to wake up.
Perhaps that was too ironic.
I lay there on the concrete floor of the dirty streets that was surely yet to be cleaned by the city street sweepers. Crowds start to form, screams to call an ambulance as blood gushes out of my head. I was so close. So close to knowing if that cross on his neck meant more than I did. Even in death, he was all I could think about.
June 25, 2015. I hope he will never forget the person that I was, a dreamer.
Author’s Note:
This story is inspired by the difficulties LGBTQ+ people have faced in society. This is not to offend anyone and is only for awareness to a more equal society for queer people. :)
Hanh Thach | 13 | Connecticut, USA
