“Time moves in one direction, memory in another.”
-William Gibson
He closed his eyes and breathed; pretended the ache in his chest was from nothing at all rather than everything at once.
Pretended the throb in his hand was from when he’d pounded it to the wall and not the reason he’d done it at all.
Pretended he couldn’t see him every time he dared close his eyes.
Pretended every faked smile was real; every soft laugh was true.
Pretended every whispered promise had been kept.
But pretending couldn’t get so far as the bottle could, so he stuck to the latter and perfected the first. He could still see him; his calloused hands, his sharp eyes, his metal heart shining through until the darkness could stand no more.
Beautiful in his strength and compassion; how he could bring smiles to every face and hide every scar he’d ever gotten.
He closed his eyes and smiled, because that’s what he was supposed to do.
Smile and walk through the crowds as if he wasn’t bothered; as if he knew he was waiting for him wherever it was he’d ended up; as if he had no reason not to smile.
As if he hadn’t loved him more than he loved himself.
As if he hadn’t promised him the world; their world.
The world he had created and they had perfected in some far off land that didn’t exist yet.
Pretended that every love story had been true; that loved fixed all, even a broken heart.
But then, it was hard asking someone with a broken heart to love again.
He closed his eyes and laughed, because that’s what was expected of him.
Laughing and smiling because he’d once been the happiest man in the world and was expected to stay the happiest man in the world; he’d been in love, of course he’d been happy.
But happiness had run its course and given way to something colder; something that never should exist but did for people who didn’t love and have someone love them in return.
Something harsh and thoughtless; something cold and cruel; something no one knew was there but everyone could feel.
Emptiness.
He was completely and utterly empty and if anyone had ever cared enough to realize, they’d see smiles and laughs as the façade they were.
He closed his eyes and let the water lap at his toes, eyes locked onto the place where the sky met the ocean and merged until you couldn’t tell one from the other.
He stared and he saw; saw home, saw light, saw him; saw everything he’d ever wanted and everything he’d ever wished entwined in one person until he became everything he’d ever need.
He turned and he walked away, footsteps silent in the sand, breath fogging out before him as he uttered two words; so brokenly, so quietly, Death herself wouldn’t dare break the silence.
“Goodbye, Anthony.”