The Farmhouse

The lava lamp glowed in the dark room. There was no other light, but we didn’t seem to care. The bed was damp with the summer sweat. It was late at night and we had just finished what felt like every experience at once.

I tried to count every freckle on his face, to remember how he looked in the glow of the lava lamp’s light as he grinned at me. I was consuming him into my memory to nourish me later when I would lose his presence. Soon, our yearly fling would end and so would the days we spent in the sun and our lake would freeze over, as would our love and lust for life.

“Jake,” I cooed, touching his face gently.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want to go. I don’t ever want to leave this place. The lake. I can’t imagine not being free again.”

“Me, too. I don’t want to go back. Things are simple here.” His lips wrapped around mine, the stubble on his upper lip tickled under my nose.

“It’s peaceful.” I answered after our kiss dissolved. Sadness started peeking from behind my mental pillars as I chased the thought of Jake down the street, begging for his endless fountain of love.

“Mmm. You are peaceful.” Jake answered. I felt myself vibrating with pleasant feelings, but distress started to creep in. “What’s that look on your face about. Andy?”

“What are people going to think if I never come home?” I mused.

“That you died while you stayed on the lake. Or you became a revered mountain man.” Jake chuckled. Jake didn’t realize that both options crossed my mind. Maybe I could destroy who I was to blossom into my true self. Jake made me invincible. Coiled in his arms, there was no distress or disappointment. There was only Jake.

“Jake,” i murmured, my body tingled from the touch of his hand. “I can’t go back. It’s too hard.” I nearly whispered. He held me there until his breathing slowed and he was asleep.

A while later, I untangled my body from a sleeping Jake’s body. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, as the words bit at my throat, but I couldn’t muster the words. I pulled on my pants and quietly padded to the pond. I glared at it. My summer of sticky love would freeze over soon. The heat would end and so would my summer with Jake.

I searched my pants for a cigarette and found one in my back pocket. This wasn’t the first time Jake and I rendezvoused at a place like this. There were other times when our earth shaking love couldn’t settle.

My hands were shaking, and I tried to steady myself. I knew there would be nothing like Jake and Jake would never have anything like me. Jake was every drop of rain in a drought to me--I soaked up every particle of him into myself without question. There was no Andy, just quiet thoughts of Jake that made my heart burn with sadness. I couldn’t go on as his little secret. I looked back at the farmhouse where we laid in perfect harmony, entwined like a needle and thread.

I took a drag of my cigarette, remembering Jake’s rough lips in the cold season when the cold started sneaking in. I thought about the kisses we stole on the lake as we skated at night, concealed from the world. I never wished his wife any harm, but I hope she would hold him and tell Jake how special he was.

I remembered ice skating and every touch of his rough hands. I remembered the hunger he felt and how gentle his words could be. I would miss the notes we passed back and forth and the codes we sent to each other. I would miss the way he sometimes stuttered over his words when he laughed too hard. Could he miss me?

“Andy,” a quaking voice said from behind me.

I didn’t look back. I knew it was Jake. “Andy,” Jake’s voice cracked again, as I heard him topple to his knees.

“Andy,” he wept. I wanted to comfort him, but I knew there was nothing quite so lonesome as seeing the man you love dead.