A conclusion

So, this is it. The final part of my story. At least now the frame is done, though I'm sure there are places I could add more to, as needed. Enjoy.

The Stones had it right, I guess, because you can’t always get what you want. Or rather, you get what you want, and then find out that you still want more. Or worse, that you wanted something completely different. I’d had sex. Finally. It was what I had wanted for a long time. All I ever thought about, really. And then I was having it, all the time. And it was good. But I learned that what I really wanted was someone in my life. I guess I was lucky, I figured that out at 17.

“Look, Cole, you’re alright and all, but it’s not like we’re really friends or anything. Once we’re back at school, it’s not like we’ll ever see each other. Fuck, there’s no way. It’ll just go on like before. And remember, no one ever hears about this summer. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m a fag.”

In a last-ditch effort, I turn and grab Pete by the neck. I kiss him, hard, and then pull back and we breathe each other for a few moments.

“Don’t worry, Pete. No one will ever think you’re a fag. Except me.”

The backwards shove that sends me to the dirt path and my flashlight rolling off into the woods comes out of nowhere.

“Say it again, fag. I dare you. I swear to God, Cole. Don’t start playing that fucking game with me.”

Still stunned on the ground, I try to think of something, anything to fix this. All I come up with is, “What game?”

It’s the game we all play, the one from the movies. Where the one person you love more than anything finally realizes in the parting shot that he really wants to be with you, after all. Then there’s the romantic embrace, and the kiss, and then the music comes in and the credits start to roll.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t always imitate art.

“I’m not gay, Cole. I never was, and I never will be. So stop fucking trying to convert me, ok?”

“But…I love you.”

“Well, I don’t love you. I fuck you; there’s a difference.”

“But you said…”

We walked along the ridge quietly for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. I had my arm around Pete’s waist as we rounded the bend and looked down the steep hill to the lake. A motionless tableau spread out beneath us, the dead-calm water brilliantly mirroring the newly risen full moon and a smattering of brighter stars. Vapors rose off the edges, obscuring the far shore.

            “It’s beautiful, Pete,” I breathed as we stopped and took in the sight.

“I ordered it just for you,” he said softly into my ear as I nuzzled his neck.

We found a secluded spot overlooking the lake and laid down on our sleeping bags. Soon enough he was holding me in his arms and the world disappeared. Intoxicated with it all, I wrapped my arms around him and just squeezed.

“Please don’t let me go.”

“Shhhh…” he whispers. “Shhhhh. I’ve got you. You’re alright; I’ve got you.”

“Promise?”

“I’ll always have you…”

Pete throws up his hands. “Fuck it. I’m done with this shit. Do what you want, you fag, but just leave me alone. You killed it. See ya.” And with that, Pete starts walking away into the dark.

I sit, and I feel nothing. Five, ten, fifteen minutes. With a long, shuddering sigh I stand and pick up my flashlight for the longest walk of my life. I somehow make it back to my cabin and stumble in. I collapse on my cot and feel it sag almost to the floor. I’m asleep before the grief can even well up.

Then, as I did five weeks previously, I wake up to knocking. It’s still dark.

Why do we knowingly do things that we know we shouldn’t? Maybe because we change our priorities in those sudden instants before we make up our minds. I realized what I was after as I lay there in the dark listening to soft knocking that could only be the love of my life. I wanted moments. I wanted a crystalline piece of time, forever frozen in a sort of infinity, spread across my mind. This was my last chance. And I took it.

I say nothing, and the door creaks softly open. I feel his tentative footsteps, and I hear his tightly controlled breathing. Then, his hand on my shoulder.

“Cole. Cole. Wake up.”

I roll over and look at him, kneeling next to me on the floor. No words now, just a slow leaning-in that ends with lips touching and fire igniting. We share our moment, for the last time.

Of course we had sex. That goes without saying. He said he was sorry, and I told him he’d do no differently if he had to do it all again. He tried to say ‘I love you’, but I told him to shut up. It was too late for all of that. We spent that last night together until dawn, just like we did that first night. I watched as he became Apollo right before my eyes, with the sun rising ever higher. I gently got up and started packing up my gear for the long trip home. It didn’t take long, and I was gone before he even woke up. And that was it. I knew it was over, and while it still burned like a hot stone in my stomach, I was also glad. At least I’d had a moment.

*********

Oh, side note, I've titled the paper 'You Can't Always Get What You Want', and then as a closing line I have 'But if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need.' Too trite? The reference I make to the Stones in the story is what gave me the idea.  I'm dying for comments, so feel free to say anything you want!