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first I see his feet, brown where mine were golden, heavy where mine were light, careful where I was certain. where I moved like a lion, Patroclus moved like a deer, with caution and uneasiness and something I couldn’t name by then — something I’d only come to know because of him.
ever since I can remember I could feel everyone’s eyes searching for me. when I first met him, Patroclus’ eyes were the same, yet different — they searched for mine. when he turned my way, his eyes as dark as ancient caves, deep warm waters, glimmered with an emotion that was unknown to me — until I found that same emotion in my own eyes.
paying attention to my surroundings, to my body, or to my enemies in a fight were not things I had to think through even for a second. attention came naturally to me, so naturally I could not recognize it in myself, let alone in others. before I met him, I never wondered how it felt to be different than I was. after Patroclus, I began to see others best. I started to notice their feeble attempts of attention by comparison. they tried to imitate me when they fought — he never did. whenever I put him down on the ground he watched me intently and breathed in a way that made feel hungry. it made my mouth water. I wanted to eat him whole.
my mother hated him, but I never felt closer to the ocean than when I had his heartbeats on my skin. whenever he touched me, waves breaking, salty and sharp. his hands, the shore. his moans, the shivering sound of water licking stone. I made sure we were never far, carrying him with me at all times. I knew his steps like I knew my own. I knew his limbs, flesh and joints. I knew all the places where he was soft and how it felt to touch the bony hardness beneath them — I carried it all inside, a tapestry in his honor. I carried his name on my tongue and sang it to the skies. I let them all know he was mine. he was mine and I was his.
I wasn’t a monster, but — close enough — I was a hero. spear-sharp teeth and fast hands. skin bathed in gold and blood. we were built like the gods in whatever they called beauty and strength. built like them also in our ways of destroying mortal lives. Patroclus thought I was beautiful and precious like honey but I knew best — I was born to kill. there’s no beauty in death. there’s just power. his eyes so full of love they were mistaken. he loved me like I was human. he thought I was the embrace — I was the strike, predator where he was prey. whenever I pulled him closer, he bared his skin to me with trust. I pressed my lips on him with love. with all the love I had inside — all of it was born for him, all of it was his.
I hoped he could read my thoughts with his attentive eyes. I hoped his eyes could see through my bones, to the very core of whatever I was. before him I was — almost, almost — a god and, as such, I cared for nothing but myself. I never thought I’d know what caring for someone was — Patroclus taught me. I found myself wanting him to see how much I cared for him. his name, his name, when he was inside me. Patroclus, I’d say. he’d breath harder. I’m going to be the first, I’d said. you’re the reason, I’d said. Patroclus, Patroclus. he’d hold me so tight it’d hurt — before him, nothing ever hurt me.
first I see his feet, but it’s taking too long. it’s taking too long and I want to touch him. with him, it’d be like this sometimes. I felt myself yearning. I wanted to shout his name. I wanted him to come nearer, but there was something wrong.
first I see his feet, and I tell myself, he’s walking towards you. I know he is. but Patroclus doesn't move. I see his feet and then his legs, his hands, his chest, his neck and — something is not right, I see his neck. I see his neck and, at its end, not his face, not his dark hair.
no, at the end of his neck I see my helmet.
I look harder, I search for his face. I search for his cheeks, kissed by the sun, full of tiny dots wherever light touched him — I forget I hate the sun — I search for his brown skin, his calm voice. I search for his name on my tongue, I try to call, but my throat is sealed. I whimper like I never do but he doesn’t listen. Patroclus, I say, but I don’t. his face is not there. he turns away and
he starts to walk.
I start to walk too. but it’s different this time. my feet refuse to obey me properly. Patroclus stands tall, he walks away so fast — while I walk with caution and uneasiness and something else. something inside me twists and I cannot describe it. it’s new and it’s heavy, like my insides are turning against themselves. is this what a curse feels like? was I cursed? I put a hand on my chest and feel — something I’d never felt, something I was never supposed to feel, but I do. and Patroclus walks away. where is he going? I don’t know — and then I do. he’s wearing my full armor now. I want to tell him, no, you shouldn’t. come back. I tell him, no. I scream his name. my chest is heavy. I realize this is Patroclus’ feeling, not mine. not mine. but it is. it is now. I search his words, I find it. is it fear? — I ask myself, knowing the answer, denying it. I call him. Patroclus, Patroclus, Patroclus. you’re going to die. come back. come back to me. come back to me. mother, help me. father, blood, help me. he is walking and walking. is it fear? — I know it is, it must be. it’s not my feeling, Patroclus, come back, it’s yours. come back, take it. let me kiss you, come. I scream. I scream.
I fall to my knees. he stops.
Patroclus, I try. small and afraid. I need to see his face. Patroclus. Patroclus.
my lover turns around.
I get up and run to him, trying to smell, to taste, to embrace. I see his beautiful face. but something is wrong, he seems sad. I don’t understand. I cannot touch him. he cannot see me. we are parted. his lips form words, I have to go. I say, I’ll go with you. he doesn’t listen. he turns around, he walks, he walks.
I see him going away.
I say, wait. I scream, wait. there’s something wrong, wait, wait.
I wake up screaming. “Patroclus! wait! I am here!” a putrid smell invades my senses. death. I remember. I shake his body to wake him up. come back to me. come back, come back.
Patroclus is gone.
the sea flows down my face.