Archive of Our Own ^beta

My heart is home to a man, the most beautiful man my eyes ever laid upon. Someone I befriended unintentionally, but to this day the best company I’ve ever had. He always had the most inspiring advice, his great jokes always brightened my day, his sweet messages always made me smile. I knew he cared about me by the way he addressed me, and his hugs were comforting, he made my life easier to live. He’s the owner of the biggest, prettiest chocolate brown eyes in the known universe. His voice is soft as velvet, even though his laughter is the complete opposite. 

His name is John.

John was the one who held me together when I thought I couldn’t take suffering anymore. He had been hurt beyond people’s comprehension, and he knew how it was to feel completely alone. He dried my tears multiple times, he comforted my grieving heart like no one could. He had gone through so much and yet found the patience and time to try and fix me. All the burden I had on my shoulders, it was tough to carry my sins all by myself and he somehow made me lighter. His smile dissipated my fears. He sang me to sleep in numerous occasions, I’d live in his arms if I could.

John was strong, but not invincible. He cried in the middle of the night just like I did, of guilt and regret, wondering how his life ended up in that direction. He brought so much joy to my life and yet couldn’t seek it for his own. He wanted his next girlfriend to be the last and I knew what he meant by that. The talk of him being with someone else saddened me, but I hid it very well, always stating he’d find the woman of his dreams soon. He’d eventually stop crying and we’d watch a movie together and fall asleep on the couch. I couldn’t leave him alone these nights, and to be fair I never wanted to leave him alone again.

I was so used to having John near, his scent was so familiar and comforting. His barefoot self, dressed in comfy sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, watching internet videos of people fighting each other. The comical sight of his lips sucking on Pedialyte pops was comforting and perhaps one of the things I loved the most about him, always a child at heart. He’d invite me to do the same and we’d sit and watch drunken fights as our tongues got numb with the flavored treats. I’d lean on his shoulder, so naturally. He never seemed to care, and after a while he started hugging me, his hand placed gently on my waist. I was so safe, feeling his body shake as he laughed. It always made me smile too.

We were friends.

I had the privilege of listening to John singing right next to me. He’d grab his guitar and he’d sing around his house, sometimes singing joke songs that he composed out of nowhere. He’d serenade his dog, who didn’t seem interested at all and would run away. He’d sing about my favorite flavor of ice cream, my questionable taste for entertainment and my inability to snap my fingers. Then he made a cute song about my noodle hair, making me laugh as he sang it and he realized that funny songs made me laugh harder than straight up jokes. He started singing about my tiny feet and tiny hands… and how my eyes looked gorgeous when sunlight hit them. From that moment on, we’d stare at each other in contemplation instead of giggling. The songs got sweeter and his voice, pure sugar. I never got tired of it. I just let him sing me in his words, and oh how I craved for it. And he continued to do so.

Beyond the handsome face and body, there was a beautiful soul. He cared so much about his friends, his acquaintances, anyone. They had his back because he was so honest and intense, and it could be scary to some people but it was never scary to me. He was extremely intelligent and hearing him talk was like reading a very nice, interesting book. I always wanted more of his voice talking to me when he left. I loved the way he said my name. I let him do most of the talking, trying not to get lost in his caramel colored eyes. He’d talk until he got sleepy, his voice clouded by yawns, his eyelids getting heavier. He’d yawn and stretch his neck moving his head around, something so simple but so mesmerizing to me. He’d invite me to sleep over, always respecting my boundaries. We slept in different rooms but I always wished he’d crawl under the sheets with me. Thinking back, if I ever tried, he’d probably accept it.

We’d have dinner together almost every night when John was home. I’d screw up his diet, bringing junk food and he was never mad about it. He was in shape and he looked amazing but seeing him stuff his face with ice cream always made my whole week. In one of these days, he asked me why I wasn’t dating anyone. I shrugged, not sure what to tell him. He told me I was lovely, and the love of my life would be so lucky to be loved by me. He had a different sparkle in his eyes as he said it, and just like that, it clicked. My body took control of me and I realized I was tasting his lips a second later, so sweet beyond the flavor of ice cream. Out of a sudden, his clothes were gone, my clothes were gone, and we’re just… gone.

We were lovers.

And we denied it. We denied it for so long. Our mutual friends insisted that there was something else between us and we always said we were just good friends. We were too close, and I think we knew it. But after that night we couldn’t lie to ourselves anymore. It wasn’t just about enjoying peculiar comedy shows, or our common interests. It was like I had found permanent residence in his big, light brown eyes. I had peace every time I looked at him. It felt like the mess on my life was absolutely meaningless, my problems so small. Holding him in my arms was a cure for the disease of my existence.
I took him for myself that night and even with all my Christian guilt, it felt so right. Our mouths like magnets, our hands exploring each other’s bodies like we already knew what aroused us. I opened myself to him like I never did to anyone. He kissed my naked body, he embraced my flawed, naked soul. He came to me, vulnerable as we finally gave in into our desire and our wish to be loved. He handed his heart to me in a silver platter and the look in his eyes was of complete adoration and overwhelmed with emotion. Something he could never fake, his brown eyes sparkled as if half of the Milky Way was now stored inside them.

I asked him to stay, I never wanted him to leave. I wanted to grow old and have three kids and live peacefully in Montana with our dog and with his inked arms around me. I wanted to be there for him, I wanted to raise kids with big brown eyes like his. My friend John whom I loved with such devotion, he was the one I wanted to die with. He was still there as I thought about all of this: sleepy eyes, wet hair, naked body sparkling, covered in sweat. There wasn’t a single inch of him that I didn’t absolutely adore. He didn’t give me an answer, but he looked relieved, as if the biggest weight in the world had just been removed from his shoulders. We fell asleep holding each other, like it was meant to be all along. 

But when I woke up, John wasn’t there anymore.

I called him and he didn’t answer. Maybe he was busy and he didn’t want to wake me up. He had lots of things to do and I couldn’t have him at home at all times. He always made me feel comfortable in his house and I’ve been there many times without him around. His dog Moose was sleeping peacefully on the couch and it made me giggle. I had breakfast and I walked around, looking at his guitars, his photos. I put on one of his hooded jackets, it was clean but it still smelled like him. I don’t think I’ve ever been that happy. The air was warm like his hair and I wanted that moment to linger.

When he got back home, he was different. He didn’t look different, but he was off. He didn’t look at me in the eyes once as he told me that he thought we shouldn’t be together. He stated that he was a man with many problems and I deserved someone better.  He knew that I wanted something more, something to last. He said he wanted the same, but he didn’t feel we’d work out as a couple, even though I was a great friend. I didn’t understand where that was coming from, because it felt like we had an amazing night together. But he was firm in his decision and he said it was better for me to go. Right then and there I left.

Then, we had nothing.

I didn’t talk to him for weeks. I felt like a part of me had been taken away. He didn’t pick up the phone, and I wished my friend John was just a random person that day. I wished I hadn’t met him at all and I wished I didn’t love him as much as I did. I wished I could sleep without thinking about his big chocolate colored eyes and I wished I didn’t want to drown in his sweet honeyed voice. I had to sleep every night knowing the love of my life asked me to be away. I crafted an ocean of sadness with my own eyes. He was floating on a boat, among my tears, so close yet unreachable. I had probably gone mad for loving someone so much and this was reality creeping in.

And even being away I couldn’t hate him. My sweet sweet Johnny, my immaculate love. I’d rather live in pain seeing him with someone else than being completely gone. I was in a prison made by my own lover. I prayed every day for an answer because there wasn’t a logical solution for what I was feeling. I was selfish, hoping he’d come to his senses and talked to me. I waited for what it seemed like an eternity. I stopped calling him after the third day. And there I stood, in an emotional hell that burned my insides and punished me for pursuing love where there wasn’t any. Every time my doorbell rang, I ran to it and expected to run into his warm arms. 

My friends said I should give up, and it was painful to think he wore me down just to sleep with me. I refused to believe that the stories about him being a jerk was true, I refused to let him go. I had pictures with him all around my place, and I remembered every single moment. And the moment I realized John was the love of my life was glued to my mirror. The day he took me out to an amusement park, bought me a huge teddy bear and spent the day with me, after I was rejected by someone. I remember thinking right then and there that there was no one else for me. I looked him in the eyes and as the lights of the rides sparkled over them, I saw heaven. That picture of me, Johnny and a huge teddy stopped me from giving up. 

I waited for him. I longed for his return.

And his return did come true, and his doubts about our love ceased to exist. My friend John loved me as much as I did him, even more perhaps. He didn’t want me to be an ex, and his hesitation was what kept him away. His insecurities about himself as a partner and the fear of losing me forever as a friend. But what Johnny didn’t understand is that I loved him with all his flaws and everything, every problem, every mistake was so meaningless compared to the extension of my love. He knew he had to let his burdens go, and he stood in my front door wondering if I would accept his imperfect self into my life. I’ll never forget the tears. I’ll never forget the kiss was salty because of them. It was the best kiss of my life.

The sun always seems so much brighter in Paradise Valley. I live with my three kids and they all have big brown eyes, just like daddy does. Our dog Moose likes to sunbathe all day, no worries at all. It’s been such a long time since the day I took the love of my life in. I still have the big teddy in our room and the picture is now glued to other mirror. My husband John is still my best friend, and he still sings about my tiny hands and the dog still runs away from him when he plays the guitar. I still see heaven in his eyes, and perhaps that’s why we live in a place called paradise.

We’re friends and lovers and nothing hurts anymore.