If today was any other day, I probably would have been crying ages ago, would still be paralyzed on the living room floor-
But all I see is the pain in his eyes, the beads of sweat making his long hair stick to his face and neck as he tries with everything in him not to cry - not to let me see him cry -
And if today was another day - if I felt better than I do nowâŚmaybe I would have thought of something comforting to say.
But today isnât a day for making sense, apparently.
Donât know what possesses me but I walk over to him without the slightest grain of hesitation - of bashfulness - of worry that Iâll regret this later and sit down on the edge of his bed, taking his face in both of my hands.
âYah. Viejo.â
I can feel his furious heartbeat through the delicate skin - red and white and that perfect cashew brown all at the same time. I could find it in me to kiss him right now and forget about anything else - about reason and consequences - but instead, I press his forehead against mine and just breathe. I feel the heart skip beats, flip, somersault, and then calm down into a steady rhythm. I feel the skin growing hot under my fingertips, but I know if I open my eyes now, itâll break the spell.
I whisper a sort of prayer my mother used to say to my brother and me when we were small.
Peace, my sweet, my heart.
âI can see you,â I say softly, âIâm no idiot, Kattar. We havenât been friends for 15 years for me to be that blind.â The heart speeds into near panic -
Not this time - weâre not lying this time-
âYou can pretend - pretend to be as angry and as cold as you like. I still see you. You donât have to hide that youâre hurting from me.â
I feel the salt water running down onto my fingertips and my hands - the dark hair shrouding his faceâŚ
I make myself let him go, and sit back on the edge.
He doesnât raise his head, just sits there staring at the blanket, with the tears running down his nose and freckling the white with uneven spots of watery gray.