In my mind, we’re gazing together over the edge of this vast ravine. We used to come here often to stare at the landscape and have endless conversations about life and its challenges. We’ve been sitting here for a while now, and I can’t quite figure out how long “a while” really is anymore. Our endless conversations have now become endless silences. Maybe we’ve only been here for about an hour, or maybe we’ve been here for years.
Our legs dangle over the edge of the rock we’re sitting on. Where once a river flowed through the mountains, now there’s a vast and dry plain. I peer over the edge, and when I close my eyes, it feels as though I’m slowly falling. As if I let myself tumble forward like someone trying to do a somersault. After all, what do you have left to lose when your whole life stands still? One day, you really must move on with your life.
In my imagination, I see how it could all happen. If I let myself fall forward, I dive headfirst into the endless ravine in front of me. How fast would my body fall into the depths? Someone has probably measured that before, right? How the cold wind would cut across my face as I fall endlessly. How tears would form in my eyes and blur my vision. And whether I would eventually feel the impact of the ground. If that impact ever comes, and if it’s really the ground beneath there. Maybe it’s a soft landing after all. Would it be over, and would I finally feel nothing? Not too much and not too little?
I lose my train of thought and open my eyes again. Almost automatically, I turn my head to the left and look at you. Like clockwork, my face turns toward safety after a disaster. You, too, seem lost in your own thoughts. But you have your eyes open, staring absentmindedly, almost in a trance. You dare to face the truth while I hide beneath the safe veil of my eyelids. We are both so different, yet so alike. Two men with a palpable bond, a connection deeper than what the surface reveals. And yet, it feels like we’re drifting apart. Do you also feel like we’re drifting apart?
I ask you if you’re okay, and for a moment, your eyes linger at something. Staring into the distance. But then you blink and turn your face toward me. Are you still seeking safety in me? You declare that you would like to come back as a bird in your next life. I chuckle a little at how cliché this sounds; where did this come from? You say you want to come back as a bird so you can view the world differently than you do now. Now it sounds even more cliché, but this isn’t the moment to share my unfiltered opinion. Instead, I try to align myself with your thought process. I tell you that you already view the world differently, because you see the world completely differently than I do. Sometimes you think so innocently that I want to protect you from all the evil in the world. But if you come back, I hope you come back as a bird. I wholeheartedly wish it for you.
A soft smile appears on your face, and you let out a deep sigh. You always look a bit sad when you do that, something I’ve never fully understood about you. Funny how you think you know someone inside and out, and they still surprise you with something you haven’t fully discovered yet. That sad side is precisely what scares me. Somewhere, something went wrong. Then you burst out laughing. Luckily, you realize how cliché it sounded too.
Frozen, I sit alone on the edge of the ravine. I didn’t even realize when exactly you jumped into the ravine. But I know you’re no longer sitting next to me. I don’t feel your body beside me anymore. My safety is gone, and I no longer dare to turn my face to the left. Stiffly, I wait for the sound of your body hitting the bottom of the ravine. But nothing comes, no sound. And I remain in an endless silence. I only hear the birds somewhere on the horizon.
You did get your way after all. It’s okay, because I think I could lose this piece of myself. No matter how hard I try to push you away, you always come back to me like a boomerang. And I no longer have the will to push you away. If this is going to hurt for a while, so be it. I can no longer stop my longing for you. My fragile protective wall has fallen, and my heart lies open and exposed. The only question now is, what will you do with it?
Today, I’m having a good day. Yesterday, we talked for an hour about our feelings, and it helped. Something that doesn’t happen very often, but it was exactly what we needed. We miss each other a lot, and it will still be a few days before we see each other again. I don’t think you need confirmation of what I feel for you, because I tell you almost every day. But it was nice to hear your side so extensively and honestly. A confirmation that you also enjoy what we have and can’t imagine life without me in it. How you look forward to and enjoy our contact every day.
I should probably ask you more often how you’re feeling, so I’m not just trying to unravel it all in my head. Sometimes the answer is so simple and on the nose. I was able to vent about things like your other sexual partners, and how, despite convincing myself that I can handle them, I sometimes feel a little jealous. And how I don’t always understand what I mean to you. You ask why this specifically makes me doubt my position in your life. Because this is something I’ve never experienced before. Not having a relationship with someone and letting them be so free. You tell me that I don’t belong on that list of men in your life because this is different. A confirmation that I needed for a moment. Because we haven’t known each other for that long, and sometimes things are still a mystery.
It’s casual, but I’m not sure how exactly I should be ‘casual’. It comes so much easier for you. So natural, maybe because you have more experience? I’m not the only man in your life, but you’re the only man in mine at the moment. Should I change that to make my mind calmer? Or am I just still in love with you and don’t want anyone else? Every time I take a little distance, you creep back into my head. I close the front door, but as soon as I walk away, the wind brushes past my ears. Your foot is in the doorway, and you have a smile on your face. Jehovah’s Witnesses are nothing compared to this. Fine, come on in again then. Otherwise, the doors will slam shut because of the draft.
When you speak, I’m all ears. Especially when you speak softly because you’re tired. Then you calm me down again. I often interrupt my monologues, my flaw. I completely lose my train of thought, and you smile while I search for the next point in my head. You enjoy throwing me off track, because it’s so easy. A subtle form of power that I hand over to you on a silver platter. Throw me off track, please.
Martijn Winkel 