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Charlie lives for music. It speaks to him, and it’s been starting to speak to me the more I listen. Especially the more Charlie helps me find things to listen to and I get to watch him light up as he explains how the drums change the song, why the artist wrote those lyrics, and how the sound swirls up feelings inside of him he has trouble accessing without it.
So we decided to make playlists for each other. A cute way to show each other how we feel after years together, navigating the ups and downs life threw at us. We always navigated it side by side.
When I stumbled upon ‘With My Whole Heart by Sufjan Stevens’, I knew it needed to be on the list - the very first song. I love Charlie with my whole heart, every last cell belongs to him. And, while many memories surface when I think of loving him with all of me, one in particular stands out to me when I listen to this song. I can feel it within me when it plays and the lyrics unfold in front of me, coursing through me.
—
“You know, I didn't realize it at the time, but looking back now, I was obsessed with him, so I tried really, really hard and, uh, got that trophy for being the best team player.” My feet are planted on the bed, my hands carefully folded together in my lap, fingers gripping each other so I can hide their shaking from Charlie.
Why is it so difficult to talk about these things? I want him to know he can open up to me. That he can rely on me when he’s having a hard time. I know something’s wrong but how can I help when he refuses to talk about it?
Charlie grins at me with the cutest look on his face and then he looks down at the trophy again and I take a deep breath while his eyes are downcast.
“That is so adorable!” He coos with a hint of laughter in his voice, glancing up and back down again before turning to place the trophy back on the shelf. I take another deep breath, letting the air whoosh out silently.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
I need to make sure he’s okay.
He moves away from the shelf and slowly walks to the bean bag, dropping down in it facing me where I am still leaning against my pillows and headboard. He wraps his hands around his legs, leaning forward and looking at me with those gorgeous blue eyes.
I love him so much it hurts.
I can feel the smile slip off my face as the memory of camp fades and my task stands starkly in front of me.
“Now your turn,” I say with an intake of breath at the end, holding it in for a moment as I feel myself teetering on the edge of pushing this issue with him. What if he breaks up with me for pushing him to talk?
“What?” he asks, his face relaxed, as he pulls his arms up further around his knees. He doesn’t know what I’m about to ask. I brace myself and push, just a little bit, and hope he might talk about it without me having to explicitly say it.
“Tell me something.” As I speak, my eyes dart away from his for just a moment, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I sound nervous. I am nervous. I grip my fingers together tighter, hiding them behind my legs. I need him to be okay.
I love him.
“Like what?” he asks, shrugging, clearly still confused as to where I’m going with this.
“You never told me about…” I pause, looking away again and then back at him. My heart is racing as I think through what I’m going to say. He never spoke to Tao about the bullying. I had assumed he would have since Tao was one of his closest friends. But he didn’t. He never spoke to me about it, either. All of those experiences live, locked away, in his brain.
I briefly wonder if he relives them at night, when things seem especially dark, the way I relive moments with David or my dad that hurt so much they feel like actual wounds inside of me. The thought of him hurting like that makes me want to scream and then knock down anyone that ever caused him harm.
“The bullying. What that was like.” The word bullying comes out softly, like I’m afraid to say it. I watch his expression and he looks down, gaze immediately disconnecting from mine. My heart aches for him. Seeing his eyes dim, like a light has been shut off inside of him, makes a lump form in my throat. I swallow it back. His gaze flickers up to mine and back down again, over and over. He starts to speak, stops, and then starts again, looking right at me. I want to hold him.
“We don't need to talk about that. Everything's fine now.” He dismisses it immediately, like I knew he would. He shakes his head as he speaks and he blinks when he says everything’s fine. A lie. One he doesn’t need to tell me. I know everything isn’t fine. I caught on to his stress, eventually, around my coming out. I know how hard that was on him and how the unknown of our classmates' reaction to it brought back all the same memories from when he was outed.
I know he’s still struggling with food. I see it almost every time we hang out, in one way or another.
God , I love him.
I can’t let this go.
“ Is everything fine?” I ask and it comes out breathy. I feel a bit like I’m not getting enough oxygen. His gaze drops again, slowly. His eyes seem to be staring into the middle distance, seeing something I can’t. I’m going to lose him, I’m sure he’s going to shut down again if I don’t try to get through to him.
My mouth is open again before I can think through what I’m going to say.
“I know you like everything to be fine and happy and perfect all the time, but you don't have to be perfect with me.” My body is buzzing with adrenaline as I push again for honesty. As I remind him that he can be himself with me, that he is safe with me. I hope against hope that this is the right thing to do. I would never forgive myself if this only made things worse.
I see Charlie wrap his arms tighter around his knees, pulling his legs in against the beanbag, and he tucks his face into his arms. I am moving before I realise it, clambering over the bed to get to him, to hold him. I need to be touching him, to help sooth, to take care of him.
I love him.
I push my hands into the bed to lower myself to the ground in front of him. I am speaking before I’m even settled in. I feel desperate to reach him. Like I’ll drown if I don’t.
“Charlie, we said we'd tell each other things.” I reach out and pick up his hand in mine, pulling it towards me. Touching him is like it always is, in its many forms. He doesn’t pull away or ask me to stop. He just looks at me. This time the electricity between us is a low hum, soothing as it spreads through my hands. He makes me feel so alive, I could shout for it. Instead, I breathe and I hold him, feeling his pulse beneath my hands.
“After you told me about your... eating thing.” The last bit comes out weird because I’m not sure how to say it. I don’t want to dredge it all up for him again but I don’t know how else to get through to him. I need him to know that I’m here for him. That I want to talk about it, that I want to help.
I watch his face as he deliberates, the uncertainty in his eyes is painful but I’m being selfish, thinking that way. He blinks a few times as he looks away. He doesn’t want to hurt me anymore than I want to hurt him, but he’s scared. I know more than you might think about being afraid. Afraid to be yourself, afraid to rely on others. Charlie had changed a lot of that for me recently. I want to be that for him.
I see the moment he decides and my whole heart leaps at the sight.
“Someone just heard Tao talking about me coming out.” His gaze meets mine, drops, and then meets mine again, glinting just slightly in the light of my bedroom, and I want to wrap him in a blanket and never let anything hurt him ever again. He is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Every last bit of him is perfect, even the parts that aren’t. Maybe that doesn’t make sense but I feel it with my entire being.
I love him and it feels so big, all encompassing, and it scares me just a bit, sometimes.
Tears are clouding my eyes as he continues.
“I think it surprised me how homophobic people were. I thought things were better nowadays.” He looks up at me, his eyes soft and sad. The lump in my throat is back, obstructing my breathing. I can’t imagine how anyone could look at Charlie and want to hurt him. He looks down and his voice goes quieter.
“People would just call me disgusting to my face. And it went on for so long that I think I started to believe what they were saying.” Something unpleasant coils in my belly and I recognise it as the hot, bitter feeling of anger at the people who did this. I hold it in. I am here for Charlie, I asked for him to open up and I am going to make sure he knows how much I appreciate him for doing so.
“It made me really hate myself,” he says, voice strong, and the words hit me square in the chest. I can feel the furrow in my brow, my heart pounding in my chest. Charlie hated himself. The boy who holds my whole heart in his hands… hates himself. The thought is heartbreaking.
“So much that I... I used to... I used to cut myself sometimes.” At first he’s looking down, eyes darting side to side and then, just as he says it, he looks at me again and my breath catches in my throat. My beautiful, brave boy looks right at me as he bares his darkest moments to me.
I love him.
So much ,
I love him.
He breathes in a shaky breath and continues, showing more bravery in this one conversation than I think I have ever shown in my entire life.
“I don't wanna feel like that anymore.” And then he looks at me, his eyes glistening, full of unshed tears. I can feel that mine mirror his and the lump in my throat has grown so large I worry that I won’t be able to breathe around it.
I reach out and he falls forward into me, his face buried in my chest as I hide mine in the crook of his neck. The tears are falling hot and fast now, I can’t hold them back as the reality of what he went through slams into me. There was a world where I never met Charlie Spring and I am so grateful it isn’t this world.
His fingers grip into my shoulder blades, holding me as tightly as he can as we both cry, and I squeeze my arms that are wrapped around his shoulders, hoping he can feel the safety of me surrounding him. I will use everything I have to protect him, to care for him. A horrible thought occurs to me and I speak, though my breathing is uneven.
“Do you still do that now?” I ask, my voice muffled against his shirt, tears clinging to my lashes, and the wet trail of them cooling the hot skin on my face. I stare at nothing as I wait with baited breath.
“No,” he responds, his voice just as muffled in my shirt. I can feel the vibration of that one word in my hands that rest against his back. I feel his lungs expand as he breathes and I breathe with him, relief flooding me at his response. My eyes close and I tuck my face into his shoulder again for just a moment before we both lean back again to look at each other.
His eyes dart around my face, taking in the trails of tears down my cheeks, and then he looks down just for a second as he apologises, “Sorry.”
“I thought we'd banned the S word,” I whisper back to him and the smallest smile graces his face. Anything , anything to make him smile. I would do just about anything.
I look into those bright, tear reddened eyes again, holding his gaze. I need to see him when I say the next bit. I need him to promise.
“Can you promise to tell me if it ever gets that bad again?” I whisper, unable to bring my voice up any louder as I ask this of him. I know it’s a big ask, asking for him to be vulnerable with me, to trust me. But I can’t not know. I need to know if he’s struggling like that again so I can be there to support him through it.
He hesitates, breaking our eye contact, and his eyes dart around, avoiding me for a moment.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
Does he love me?
Does he trust me?
He speaks again, his tone insistent now.
“I just don't wanna annoy you or burden you. I don't want you to think I'm some fragile, broken mess. Like you need to fix me. I would hate that.” His eyes search mine as he speaks his fears and it hits me again just how brave he is. I could weep at the trust he is placing in me right now. I know I have to reassure him. My head is shaking ‘no’ already and I cut in.
“You're not , and I wouldn't. But I've done so many things that were scary in the past few months because you were there, holding my hand. And I wanna be that for you too. Like, you're my boyfriend. Char, can you just please, please promise me?” I hold his gaze, hoping my sincerity shines through, that how important this is to me is clear to him. He’s my boyfriend, my brave boy, my love, and I need him to know.
“Okay,” he finally agrees quietly, though he’s broken our gaze again. I sigh, the relief sudden and palpable, running through my body.
I reach for him, my fingers sliding into those gorgeous curls on the side of his head, my palm flat against his neck, cradling him.
I feel his hand on my bicep, holding me as my fingers rub gently at his scalp, our eyes locked. I lean in and kiss his forehead, his skin soft and warm beneath my lips. I stay there for a moment, breathing him in, before I lean back and gently press my forehead to his.
My heart is soaring. He trusted me. He opened up to me. I know that doesn’t fix it but at least we can be in it together now.
Everything is warmth and comfort between us. He is everything.
Our noses press together and I can’t stop myself. I lean in and our lips meet, the pressure warm and oh so loving. The buzz I feel, the one I always feel when we touch, is more intense here but, still, it soothes me.
I love him .
I lean back, shaking my head with a sigh as I gently scratch at his scalp.
“I love your hair so much.”
I will love you, I will love you with my whole heart .
Charlie looks surprised at my words and he looks towards my bedroom door before he’s looking at me again.
“Nick. I really need to go,” he insists but he’s smiling a beautiful smile.
Say you love me, baby. Say you love me, true .
“I love your eyes.” I want to fall into those eyes and drown , my mind helpfully supplies.
He scoffs at me and laughingly says, “For God's sake.”
And you're all I want
(I fell in love, I fell in love the moment that I met you)
And you're all I need
(I give my life, I give my love, promise I will protect you)
“I love…” and then I stop, taking in every inch of his face, memorising how happy he looks in this moment. I love him but saying it out loud is a leap and it’s one I’m not sure I’m ready to take. We watch each other and I feel the word just on the tip of my tongue.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
Say it!
And then the front door opens and keys rattle. We both jump and I look towards my bedroom door, disappointment washing through me.
“Nicky! I'm home!” my mum calls out. I turn back to Charlie just as he does the same and we sigh in tandem, the intensity of the moment falling away as the outside world rushes back in. I should have said it but the moment is gone now and I can’t bring myself back to it.
For now, I’ll show him in any way I know how so he can feel how much I love him. And, one day, I will say it and I hope with all my heart that he says it back.
—
It’s a bittersweet memory that led into a dark time but one where I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I loved Charlie with my whole heart. I know now he would have told me that he loved me back, if I’d had the courage to say it then, but, at the time, it felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff about to leap.
In the end, as we know now, he said it first. He’s always been the braver one of the two of us.
I can still recall the clammy feeling in my hands and the adrenaline rushing through my chest. Though the thing about that memory that means the most to me is that he trusted me. Charlie took a leap of his own and opened up to me. I am still so proud of him and of that night.
I hope, when he listens to this song, he is reminded of how much I love him. That my love for him encompasses everything I am and that this will never change.
(And I confess that I'm a mess but I will always love you)