I could see him from the corner of my eye. Like a ray of sunshine through my window on a summer morning. He wore a white T-shirt that day. A leather jacket hanging carelessly over his shoulder. How could someone be so seductive from afar? I couldn’t help but blush, I was flushed with emotions. As he walked past me, he lowered his shades and winked. A slight smirk surfaced upon his lips. I thought I was going to faint.

All the memories of last night came rushing to me. As we lost ourselves in each other, I’d never felt such immense ecstasy. He said that it was his first time with a boy; but you wouldn’t think so when we got down to it. I felt pleasures I never felt before. As the night went on, we escaped to our own little world away from the cheapskate cacophony that surrounded us. We lay on the beach all night long with a bottle of whiskey, a smooth blunt and a pack of cigarettes. We looked at the stars that lay sprinkled across the sky. We tried to figure out constellations, only to come up with ones that never quite existed and never will.

We kissed under the moonlight, our hands in tandem with our bodies that lay pressed against each other. His hands moved to places on my body that left me flustered and out of breath. As we climaxed, we lay there through the night sparking up that blunt. Two lost souls adrift into the depths of the night. As I reminiscence I couldn’t help but smile. I hoped that more such moments would somehow manifest. He didn’t want anyone to know about our encounter. He said he wasn’t ready to deal with the attention. I suppose he meant stigma. In that moment, I chose to ignore that, for he coaxed me into believing that those moments we shared were too special to be shared with the crowd. It was just something for the two of us.

As I lay lost in these thoughts, I felt a shooting pain through my abdomen as I came crashing to the bare concrete floor. I remember looking at my bloodied hand, the taste of blood lingered in my mouth. As I looked over my shoulder, I saw him. I saw him wielding a baseball bat and laughing hysterically. I couldn’t believe my eyes, as he swung again. I was on the ground grimacing in pain, as he stood over me and spat on my face. I don’t know what happened; I don’t know why it happened. He must have been pressured by his Neanderthal friends, I tried to rationalise his erratic and unnecessary action.

I loved him. I thought he loved me too. But in his eyes, in those moments, I saw the hate and vile disgust rushing through to his sinews. I saw his eyes screaming judgement and spite. As it goes with love and lust, my heart failed to see what my mind did reveal. Nevertheless, there I was again by the beach; in his arms, kissing him. There is a part of me that still loves him and that part probably always will. As we kissed this time, I felt numb.

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