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When Harvey woke up that morning, he instinctively reached for the empty space beside him. There is something heartbreakingly bitter about having your first thought of the day be about the person who isn’t there anymore, he now knew. He knew because he’d been on his mind every morning for the past week before he’d even opened his eyes.
Every morning, the first thought always ‘Why isn’t he here?’. Then the dawning realization. And then the second question he’d never know the answer to, ‘In which bed did he wake up?’. A sad ritual, followed by the mournful swallowing of bitter, burning coffee to feel the pain in his mouth rather than his heart. He grimaced as he downed the last drop of it; now he just hurt in both places.
They’d never given their relationship a name, a qualifier. “I like being around you,” Elliott used to say, “What does it matter what name I give it? A different title doesn’t make for a different book.”
He’d always been full of those phrases. Those stupid, perfect, annoying, brilliant phrases. They used to set his heart on fire fire; now Harvey just wondered if they hadn’t just been the easiest thing to say in those moments.
Harvey trudged down the stairs with a slump in his shoulders. Down to the clinic he went, less than thrilled at the prospect of a day all by himself in the clinic. Perhaps he’d close early. Fresh air might do him good. Or, push come to shove, liquor at the Stardrop.
The hour hands ticked slower than usual that day, he’d have sworn. Still, he managed to stick to the regular opening hours, more out of fear someone might ask him if something was wrong if he didn’t than out of, well, anything else. He headed down to the riverside, anxious to lose his mind in the clouds reflected onto the water. He brought a book along, even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to read a single page.
He’d been spending his days on doing everything just for show, since Elliott had walked out of his home and his life. If he could keep up appearances, he believed, he could hold it together.
Unfortunately for him, the river was lazy and quiet that day. The flow of water wasn’t nearly loud enough to drown his thoughts. They went right back to Elliott. He allowed himself to bask in the good memories first; it wouldn’t help him move on, but he was tired of his own misery. It was absurd, really, but refused to leave him alone.
Harvey had been foolish enough to let himself start falling for Elliott. He’d been good at resisting, at first. Had focused on the companionship. How deeply it hurt, now that he’d hit the ground.
He’d been pleasantly surprised when he’d heard someone new had come to town, even more so when he’d met him and learned he was a writer in quest of solace from the city. They’d had lively conversations whenever they’d ran into each other at the library, the first times.
They’d talked every now and then for the first few seasons, never addressing a growing tension in the air whenever they’d spoken for too long. Until one day, when Elliott had asked him to come by his cabin sometime to get his thoughts on his writing. It had taken Harvey 8 days exactly to act on the invitation.
“You write beautifully,” he’d told him after reading a short story of his about a man moving from a city to a forest. “But…”
“But?” Elliott had asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“I’m not sure how to phrase it,” he’d started replying, pondering. “There’s something lacking about the protagonist. He needs to be more… lonesome,” he’d finally answered.
Elliott had paused to consider his criticism. Harvey was afraid he’d hurt his feelings. He should’ve just went with praise, he’d realized.
“Does the Valley ever render you lonely, Harvey?” Elliott had asked him, moving closer.
“Only everyday,” Harvey had chuckled dryly, looking down at his feet.
That’s when Elliott had kissed him the first time. Starved for affection after three years by himself after to moving to town, Harvey had responded all too eagerly. He’d forced himself to leave before things had gotten too heated. However, Elliott hadn’t been in the same mindset; he’d rung his doorbell that very night, and thus had began… well, something for which they’d never been able to reach a consensus on a name for.
It had spanned over three seasons: summer, the torrid beginning; fall, when Harvey had fallen for him like a leaf from a tree; and winter, the season of their shared hibernation. Then had come the spring, and with it a new resident on the outskirts of town. An artist named Leah, hair like wildfire and passion burning just as bright. Or so Elliott thought, as he’d scribbled it down on a loose sheet of paper he’d left lying around Harvey’s apartment.
Harvey hadn’t mentioned it, when he’d found it. Sure, it awoke a sense of jealousy in him, but he’d figured it was just another of Elliott’s musings. Then, Elliott had started spending less and less time around him. Came over every other evening or so, but arrived late and left early. It had taken Harvey until nearly the end of the season to muster the courage to say something. Thinking back, he wished he hadn’t.
It was imprinted into his hippocampus, his nonchalance when he’d asked if he was seeing her. His annoyed disappointment when he’d told him he wasn’t entirely comfortable with sharing him.
“I understand,” Elliott had sighed after a minute of silence. “But I don’t know that I can give you what you want. Perhaps it’s best we take a step back,” he’d added, hacking at his shattered heart with every word.
At first, Harvey had been angry. So angry at Elliott and his incapacity to commit to him and how easily he’d strode down the stairs without glancing back. And then he’d started wondering; was commitment the issue, or just himself? He tortured himself over the thought everyday, reminded of the way he’d let everything come undone every time he saw either of them around town. He knew his heart would mend itself with time; he just wished that time would come faster than it currently seemed it would.
Until then, he’d just have to be patient, he knew. Forget about the warmth of Elliott’s chest in the morning. Hold out for someone else to hold instead.