Letters and Locomotives.

Does it have to be like this?

"I'm so sorry, love, that I will never be able to tell you the truth in person."

But, why? Why can't you just...stay a little longer? Why can't you just let me help?

"This is something I have to do on my own."

A butterfly the color of his eyes fluttered against a flower, pale and weathering in the mix of reds and yellows and oranges lying at its feet. Train whistles broke through the distant fog from the station a mile away, and the surrounding world passed by in cinematic slow motion that sent a dizzying shiver through Alex's neck.

What happened? What went wrong?

"I didn't want to tell you. I was afraid, and I didn't know how you would react!" A pause, and Alex watched fingers fidget with each other, twisted the ring on a trembling hand. "No, that isn't entirely true. I was more afraid of what I would do to you. I would have dragged you into my mess and you didn't deserve that. I wanted to protect you, and I was afraid I would fail if I kept you close, so I pushed you away. "

For only a moment, the tears falling down his face did so in silence. Finally, with his eyes reaching the last blot of ink on the page, did a sob wrench itself from as deep within his chest as once sat his love for Henry Rhodes. That sob turned into a scream, one piercing noise asking "how" and "why" and "what if" until he could say nothing more. All there was left to do was feel, except every feeling became instantly shrouded in pain, which morphed into frustration and confusion and finally a blanket emptiness.

He took his small travel bag in hand, letter folded carefully into his pocket, and drowned out his thoughts with the crunching of leaves beneath his boots, the gentle whistle of wind in his ears. Finally, the station came back into view, and he reached the stairs leading up to the platform. He knew, the train, would be arriving any moment.

He smiled with the familiar cry of the whistle indicating it's arrival. With that train did he leave behind the feeling of blood soaking through his hands and dripping onto cool asphalt, closed his eyes against the vision of headlights and tuned out his ears to the doldrum of car horns signaling their irritation at the halting morning rush before they noticed the cause of the standstill--- a frozen world that refused to allow him to step forward beyond its borders.

"I'm leaving you, my love, and I cannot say enough how sorry I am." A small part of him cursed his inability to come up with his own words as the train took him away from that life, but he could respect the poetic justice in using those same words staining the page in his pocket, written by his lover's hand. "I do hope we cross paths again someday, but this is something I need to do. I will always be watching over you, do not forget that, and I will never stop loving you."

Henry Xavier Rhodes left him by car on a cold winter morning one year ago that day, the anniversary of the day the two had met. One year later, Alexander Joseph Kelley had decided, was the day he would leave the world Henry had left him in behind by train.

As the familiar glare of headlights invaded his vision even from behind closed lids, Alexander could only sigh, and wait for Henry's arms to be reaching out for the two to finally go home.

Fin