luring him along... everything would be so much better and peaceful if he followed that voice. The voice that calls out for Dom.
And in his absence who would miss him? Who’d miss this silent solider marching on. And his rattle? It’ll remain but a distant memory.
I throw the journal to one side, the pen closely following it. I’m still crying, Sam’s still laying there. Silence. Has he even noticed that I’m crying? Does he even care?
Fuck this. Jumping off the bed I pick up my phone, calling home as I stand. It rings, a noise in the silence. It continues to ring and then ‘The person you are trying to reach is unavailable, please hang up and try again.’ An automated voice, a message I know far too well. Fucking typical. I want to throw the phone but instead I put it down. This is always the case, whenever I need to talk to someone I always hear an automated or pre-recorded message. The person you are calling knows you’re upset so can’t be fucked hearing your problems, please hang up and try again when you have nothing to burden them with.
I sit back on the bed. Sam moves, his face next to mine. ‘Who’d you call? Your mum? The clinic? Your bro?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Who’d you call? Your mum?’
‘Doesn’t matter Sam.’
‘The clinic?’
No answer.
‘Your bro?’
I fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sam crawls next to me and lays there looking.
‘Who’d you call?’
I laugh.
‘Your mum?’
Laughter.
‘The clinic?’
I rub my hands across my face. This can’t be happening.
‘Your bro?’
‘I phoned no one.’
Silence. I feel my chest raise and fall with every breath I take.
‘Dom?’
‘What?’ I grit my teeth, what series of repeated questions will I now be asked?
‘I love you.’
My head turns to look at him. He smiles, leans in and kisses me on the lips. For the first time this evening our worlds connect. Here in this moment we cross over onto the same plain. Love joining us together. We hug, kissing each other harder, pulling each other close. Our clothes melting from our bodies. The warmth of skin on skin. I want him like I always want him. Rub my hands over his flesh, lick the skin, so sweet it tastes.
We grip harder, pulling each other close. Lips on lips. Intimacy played out in this fucked up world. Slide in and grip him close. Two bodies as close as you can get. Laid on the side, connected inside and out. Hold the moment like this, pray it never ends. Love, tender love. This isn’t just fucking, this is love making, it means something. In this one room, at this one moment we are the centre of each other's world, nothing else matters, no one else matters. Too consumed with each other to think about anything else.
‘I love you,’ Sam breathes again, turning to kiss me.
‘I love you too.’ And in this moment, here, right now, I know we both mean it.
Pull out, relax. Lay breathing next to each other, curled around him, my arm pulling him close. His warmth clearing my mind. It’s almost over, fading back into reality, everything is as it should be. Sam in my arms. Love. Sam and Dom connected in the same world, on the same plain.
Sam moves next to me, I let him pull out of my grip. He smiles, we pull on our clothes.
‘Where are you going?’ I ask him.
‘To get the camera.’ Another smile. ‘I wanna capture our thoughts.’
Memories, recorded to digital tape. Stored forever. Re-liveable. A moment of time which can be re-watched time and time again. Love recorded at 25 frames per second.
EIGHT
Fifteenth of October
Two Thousand and Six
I
I’m sat here, laid on my side writing. The pen oozing too much ink out onto the page, I think that doesn’t help, especially when the tears fall. It smudges. Black lines like spider webs of emotion. I’m playing with my chain. Memories rushing through my head. Not a day goes by without a thought of Sam passing through my mind. Memories replayed lovingly inside my mind. Search the archive and pull out a tape, slot it in the machine and press play. The mind travels back over a year and a half, watching as if it was yesterday.
Travel back. Back to a date. February, my birth month. The fourth of February, two thousand and five.
II
I’m nervous. I’ve been building up to this all week, been keeping it a secret from Sam, and that my friends was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But here, now, it’s the moment I’ve been waiting for. I don’t know how he’s gonna take it though. Hold my breath and keep my hands in my pockets, say nothing, do nothing. Now is the moment. Right now, no escape. Breathe, calm, speak.
‘Close your eyes,’ I tell him.
He smiles. ‘Why?’
‘Go on, close your eyes.’
‘I don’t trust you. Why?’
‘Please Sam, humour me.’ He does so, but I don’t trust he’s got them closed properly. ‘Turn around.’
He laughs. ‘Why?’
‘I reckon you’re peeping. I want this to be a surprise.’
‘Okay.’ He turns. ‘Still don’t trust you through.’
I push my hands into my pockets and pull out the boxes, opening them with my thumbs. My heart’s pounding. Deep thuds echoing their way through my body to my ears. Right. The moment’s here. One final breath. ‘Right, turn, you can look.’
Sam turns slowly. He’s smiling. Smiling until he sees the boxes. His mouth drops open. Shock. He doesn’t move, paralysed to the spot.
I smile. ‘I got two, both the same. I mean...’
‘No,’ he breaths, cutting me off.
I wasn’t expecting that. ‘No?’
‘No. No. No. No. No.’ The same word repeated again and again as if trying to drum itself into his head.
My heart’s sinking, dropping further and further to the ground. It seems so silent in this room. I swallow. What does he mean ‘no’? I can’t say anything.
The repeated word continues, each one bringing him closer to tears. He’s crying. Standing there, eyes locked on the two rings. What have I done?
‘If you don’t like them I’ll take them back. It’s just that we were talking about it, and you know, I thought fuck it, I’ll buy them.’ I’m rambling, words flying out my mouth in quick succession.
His eyes snap up to meet mine. He jumps at me, wrapping his arms tightly round me, his force knocking me back onto the bed. He lays there, hugging me, crying against me. I don’t know what to do.
‘You okay Sam?’ I ask.
His reply is a kiss, a tear soaked kiss. ‘I love you,’ he says.
‘You like them then?’
‘I fucking love them. I can’t believe it.’
I laugh. Relief. ‘So what you crying for?’
‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.’
My heart breaks through the surface of fear, smashing back into place. ‘I love you. I wanted a sign to show how much we mean to each other.’
Another kiss. ‘I love you.’
‘You wanna try it? I dunno if it’s your size. They’re both the same, but you know, mine’s a bit loose, but you’ve got fatter fingers.’ I hand him the box.
Slowly he takes out the ring and pushes it onto his middle finger. He looks at it, smiles, then hugs me again. I take that as meaning he likes it.
I hug him back, I know he’s still crying. ‘They’re a sign of our love, of what we have, of what we are together. Whenever we look at it we’ll know the other is wearing it, so even when we’re apart we’ll be linked, we’ll know there’s someone out there who cares about us. You gotta do one thing though.’
He pulls away and looks at me. He’s smiling, it sends a warm sensation through me. ‘What’s that?’
‘One promise.??
?
‘What?’
‘Promise me that no matter what happens you’ll always wear it. Always keep it on your person as a symbol of us, of everything we’ve been through.’ I smile. ‘Promise me that.’
He looks hard into my eyes. ‘I promise.’
‘What?’
‘I promise, and you’ve gotta promise it too.’
I smile, I hug him. ‘I promise.’
III
I look down at my chain. The ring dangles from it. It’s lying on my chest above my heart. I feel myself begin to cry.
NINE
Thirtieth of December
Two Thousand and Four
I
So here we are again. First day back in London after visiting my mum in Preston and we’re sat waiting on the Underground with chewed, semi-digested mushrooms within our stomachs. I know we’d decided not to do them again after the last trip, but you know, one more for luck. A goodbye so to speak.
We’d spent the whole morning on a train, three and a half hours to be precise, trapped in seats, air conditioned and filled with conversation. Now here we are, poised to spend the late afternoon trapped in an alternative world, moving under the surface of a city. A day of travel, a day of trains. Another day in Sam’s company. Whilst away at my mum’s we spent two weeks together, no escape, twenty-four hours a day. A total of fourteen days, 336 hours, 20160 minutes. The longest we’ve ever been together in a go. No arguments, no boredom. All that time together and I’m sat here wishing it will never end. Every minute spent with him is cherished, locked into my mind. I love him, I know that as a fact. I wouldn’t change anything. This moment in time is perfect, sat next to everything I need, with the anticipation of what is about to happen rushing through us, tracing the same route as the toxins that will replace it with a