so, after a long time of writing extensively on death and other dark and depressing subjects, I thought I would try my hand at a more romantic/feel good story. There is more, that I have still to edit, and is of a more intimate nature, so may save it for something else. In the mean time, enjoy this first part of it!
We made our way up the step incline of the forested
path, We were
silent but content in
each others company.
It had been too long since we had been
together, and I had a great joy in my heart now we
had been reunited.
However there was
plenty around us to
make noise, the birds
in the trees, the squirrels jumping
from branch to
branch.
We finally
reached the top of the hill. We stood there for a while, catching
our breath, doubled
over and panting
heavily. It was only when we looked
back that we realised quite how far we had gone; the golden afternoon
light of late August shone down on us as we saw the valley
below us, the long shadow
of the church
steeple cast itself
across the nearby
village. Underfoot the
light brown-grey soil
was dry and dusty
from the long hot summer.
We turned
around and took in where we were,
“I’ve never seen this part of the forest
before!” Said Richard,
my companion, his
breaking of the silence was
almost a shock to me. He
continued, almost in a whisper,
so as
not to disturb
the serene place, “it’s
beautiful.” We were in the area together
for the weekend
looking after his grandparents huge barn house, and their equally
huge dogs. We had both been best friends since we met at infants’
school. It used to be that we were inseparable,
that was until I got my place doing anthropology
at a university
the other side of the country. He however had stayed on in the sleepy little
town we were both born in, not far from here. His paintings had started to sell, so he had money, and he had no interest
in cities and the busy people in them, he was happy with the slow pace of the country.
I had always admired
his artist’s soul; he was free and able to survive on hope and joy alone
as if they
were bread and
water. I liked how I could always
be who I felt I really was around him. I could say exactly
how I felt, and he’d get it instantly. He always knew what to do or say to make me feel better.
And here we were again,
after a whole year absent
from each other,
and as corny as it sounds, it felt now like it had been a few days and nothing more.
We had
been working our
way through the
forest for most
of the afternoon.
Looking for somewhere
to have our
picnic. Robert had
explored them rigorously as a child,
and knew them
all too well.
It was indeed
odd to find
somewhere here unknown
to him. The
trees in this
forest were his
friends. I had
never known a person
to have such a connection
with a place before,
in many ways I was
jealous of how
close they were,
but I knew
it made him happy,
and that in turn
made me happy. If
the dappled light
of the forest
floor would keep
him happy whilst
I was away, then
let it.
We looked
around us and took in the scene with a mild wonder.
It must have been the only even part of the forest
for miles, but here it was, half way up a hill, a moss covered clearing,
complete lacking of trees on the inside.
Off to the side, there was a little stream
that danced its way along,
its tuneful trickle
pleasing to the ears. Robert
gabbed my hand and dragged
me over to investigate, falling
to his knees as we reached the edge of the tiny stream. I saw now, that it would be easy enough
to just step over it, it was so small,
but it’s eerily
clear waters seemed
so fast and full of life.
Robert scooped
up a little
in his hands and drank some, forcing
me to drink from his hands too. It seemed
odd at first,
and I felt a little
grossed out drinking
water from nature,
not knowing what could be inside. But when it touched my lips, and I tasted
the water that was so pure, I realized it must be fine.
“I knew the start of the river had to be up here, we must be close to the spring!” Robert
explained. I just smiled at his childish
excitement and made my first suggestion of the day;
“Y’know, I think this may be the perfect
spot for that picnic.” Even as I said the words, Roberts
eyes lit up, he had obviously forgotten
the reason we had come out in the first place. We set everything
up on the home made quilt Robert’s
Grandmother had made him as a baby,
which in turn
we had layed
on the soft cushioning
of the mossy undergrowth,
and sat down to finish the
afternoon of talking
about everything. What we had been up too, despite
knowing everything thanks
to out chats online constantly,
and as always,
we talked of our beliefs
on the universe.
It was a beautiful hazy afternoon. We nibbled at the home made food we had brought, and drank the wine, and the whole thing seemed
timeless.
It was about two hours later,
we were both lying on our backs,
looking at the white fluffy
clouds between the break in the trees.
I have a cigarette in my hand that I would very occasionally take a drag on, all was right with the world, despite
all my problems,
they were not here, and they were not now. The entire
universe was just me and Robert in this forest,
and that was how it should be forever.
I felt his hand squeeze mine and I looked over to him. We often held hands,
we had done since children,
we thought nothing
of it, and we were friends, true friends, so we held hands, nothing
more. I turned
to him slowly,
the look of contentment on my face changing to one
of concern as
I see Roberts.
“What’s up?” I said, “Nothings troubling
you is it?”
“Hmmm, not really.” He replied, Then
after a slight
pause; “It’s just,
you never talk about girls,
are you not having any luck finding
someone?”
I looked
at him and laughed, “Is
that it?” I
ask jokingly, “What do you mean? It’s just never been that important to me!” And that was the honest
truth; I had no interest
in girls, other than as friends and people to go out with. I had kissed
a few whilst
out clubbing with uni friends.
I’d even slept with two, it had been fun, but I never stayed
in contact with them, I never felt romantically towards
them. To be honest I rarely gave these actions
a second thought,
but now
Robert
had brought it up, I realized quite
how odd it was.
“Are you going to try and hook me up with someone? Haha!”
I continued joking,
but Robert was having none of it. He sat up cross legged, facing
me. The look on his
freckle dusted face
was one of hurt
and anguish. I
wondered why on
earth he was
taking this so seriously.
“I mean it, I’m worried about you, and you don’t
have someone in your life to help you out when you need it, someone to balance you out.”
“I appreciate
your concern Robert,
but I’m alright,
honestly.” I say as I smile.
“It just upsets me to know you might not have someone to look after you when you need it, or someone to share the fun times with. It’s no fun being alone.”
As he said this his eyes started
to well up with tears,
and as they started to stream down his face, I instinctively
leapt up and held him tightly in my arms where he sobbed, low
and quietly, letting
whatever hidden emotion
or feeing out into the open, exposed
only for me and the forest to see. I slowly lay him down on the quit, my arms still wrapped around
him, cradling him.
After some time, the sobs quietened
down, until all I could hear was his breathing
and the occasional
sniffle. His head was buried
in my chest,
my chin and nose resting
on the top of his hair, the smell of his shampoo
filed my nostrils,
Jasmine or some exotic scent.
His warm body fitted so closely with mine, which seemed only natural, but then everything
seemed natural with us. Everything apart from the past year apart.
Then for some unexplained
reason, and to this day I could not tell you why,
something happened. After stroking his hair, and comforting him, I realized
what he needed;
I slowly and gently lifted
his head, so I could see into his moss green eyes, where I looked for some time, finding the conformation I was looking
for, there it was, like the spark of a new born star. I pressed our lips together.
For the first time felt that electric
jolt of everything
falling into place.
I felt his velvet soft lips, the taste of the wine still on them.
