I'll Say It Again.... Pain

Jesse stood there.

Dust danced in a ray of sun.

“He remembered,” he said into the quiet space.

Words tinged with longing, he lifted the cover, recognizing his face. Peace returned. Light wavered. A shadow crossed, leaving footprints painted on his heart.

Peace settled.

His light burned.

The barn's vastness embraced him.

He belonged here.

In this place.

He knew the reason.

Love was the right choice.

Elliot lost his breath.

He took off his cowboy hat. It fell from his fingers. Smiling, the sun cast amber and softness over the man. He didn't breathe. He felt a longing like none before.

“How could I forget you?” he said.

“You never left my heart.”

It wasn't a declaration.

It was release. A rhythm strengthened in Elliot's heart.

It started beating again..

Jesse turned to Elliot’s silhouette. Softness around him created an intangible moment. As if gossamer covered him.

His breath caught.

---wind came into the barn, swirling straw, cobwebs, and time--- wrapped with the fragrance of history--- sending them to where their previous chapters ended--- where this story began---

Elliot watched the light flicker on the canvas. Longing, silencing his voice. He was restless. Tension held him firm. The loft he shared with Dustin felt empty, cold, and sterile. No longer a place of love. Captive by his choices, he wasn't sure how to fight anymore. He remembered Jesse.

In thoughts.

In dreams.

He was empty. What he hoped with Dustin was turning into something he couldn't foresee. 'You know the truth by the way it feels.' He didn't know how to accept it.

The beginning felt real. Dustin was loving, kind, sensitive, and caring. He saw signs and chose to ignore them, thinking it was just Dustin's nerves. When getting to know someone, we all 'act' a little. A behavior or habit we are afraid might be misunderstood. We show our best light. The best version. Dustin had hidden more than Elliot realized. More than he cared to admit.

Elliot knew he felt a connection with Jesse. The spark was real. Infatuation perhaps? A kindling started by location---the ocean's song. How can you not fall in love?--- it's the sea. It's heart-changing. He wished he had questioned his fear.

Elliot touched the canvas, wanting to feel something. Courage, passion, desire--- the urge to create.

The hollowness remained.

“Don't stare at it. Get it painted,” Dustin barked, walking to the door. “See ya after work,” shutting it sharply.

Elliot felt its ricochet. He returned to the painting. Lowering his head, a sigh escaped.

--- 'But it reminds me I'm still here,' past Jesse said--- Jesse's eyes in the rear-view mirror— eyes that glimmered with a spark of love--- time shifted sideways to Jesse---

Jesse was in darkness.

Motionless. The energy from the dream foreboding as a wall cloud. Winds angry and filled with despair. Feelings raw like lost hope. Torrents of emotion. He couldn't open his eyes. Inhaling, he let the dream dissipate, hoping it wouldn't linger.

Awake, moonlight crossed Jesse's face. He saw a carousel of flickering images of Elliot.

Standing at the curb.

Peering over his sunglasses.

Screaming out his life.

The moment they connected.

“But I don't even know you.”

Elliot's voice in the wind.

Jesse opened his eyes. Tears streaked his temples while his heart hammered from loss. He remembered Elliot saying something he couldn't recall. The early light nudged him. The cold floor grounded him. A determination renewed after the darkness.

When Elliot walked away, Jesse’s grief resurfaced. It felt as new as yesterday. A loss of any kind must be grieved, building on what came before. He missed his mother. She loved unconditionally, teaching him to believe happiness is as important as self-worth. Happiness was her priority.

Elliot opened that hole, but in doing so, he opened Jesse’s heart. He knew of 'instant love'---the 'true one'--- he never imagined it for himself. Jesse was a loner. When Elliot walked in, he felt a jolt. Like falling into a soft mattress. A warm embrace. Their time was brief, but Jesse experienced intense happiness.

It went away.

“If I don't find him now, I'll lose him twice.”

This propelled him.

Time to make a plan.

Silence blanketed the morning as the headlights tunneled through the fog. Dawn broke pale and uncertain. Full of cedar and rain, as Jesse discovered his course. His connection, a folded piece of paper, linked him to Elliot. Scribbled by a friend, accessing information on a file at Uber, he made his way towards the town of Gualala.

A gallery.

A place to display Elliot's heart.

—-driving through moments from the past--- 'the yell of a lifetime'--- sound faded--- a smile as the wind carried it away--- hands touched--- Jesse looked at Elliot-- his own eyes—- time shifted sideways in a whirl of motion and sound, pushing us back to Elliot.—-

Elliot felt tension. More every day. He noticed glares. Dustin was getting upset with him over the smallest things. Elliot tried to make up for it with touches of love.

Bouquets.

Notes on the mirror.

Home-cooked meals.

Messages tucked in sandwiches.

Nothing seemed to help.

“Why can't you pay attention?” Dustin yelled, knocking the flowers off the island, exploding on impact.

“I expect more from you,” he said, slamming the door.

The shock made him jump. Its vibrations hung in the air. Elliot knew he could do better. He did love Dustin. Since the ocean, meeting Jesse, and letting the past go, he didn't know how much. Pain is inevitable, but it's not what he would choose to inflict.

He saw the pain he created in Jesse. He could only imagine the same for Dustin. Obligation wasn't the factor in choosing him--- or was it? Elliot thought he chose the right path. The kind path. One with empathy. The path with less pain for others. In a situation with no winners, himself included, someone was going to experience pain.

Elliot saw the debris. Water, flowers, and shards of glass across the floor in a detonation, scattering into a fan. Its beauty was chaotic. Pieces sparkled. Water reflected the shapes of objects in the room. A mosaic, crafted by an artist. An abstract creation.

It was how he felt.

He left it, returning to the easel. He wanted to be a good partner, knowing he was in his head too often.

But that's where Jesse lived..

The painting spoke as he assessed his work. A seascape, water being thrown by an energetic storm on one side—- the other, still.

Calm.

Quiet.

The middle--- vacant.

The conflicting emotions he carried.

Grabbing a brush with paint in its bristles, he touched the surface. His hand trembled. Like rain on glass, he realized he was where he started. The place controlled by others. Only, the painting was new.

—- his mind soared to Jesse--- 'Thanks for stopping,' past Elliot said--- 'You can't fly across the country and not meet the ocean.'--- the voice of Jesse--- Jesse’s smile--- time shifted again—- a swirling kaleidoscope of images--- pushing us sideways to Jesse.—-

Jesse entered with hope and apprehension.

It was quiet.

Standing inside, one painting sang. His heart changed rhythm.

It was a storm --- raging on one side. A lone figure on a rock, trying to be consumed--- lightning fracturing the sky.

The other side---

Calm.

A ray of sun grazing the man.

He knew it instantly.

It was Elliot at the beach. The moment Jesse recognized the shift towards love. Having never experienced this, he didn't know if he could call it 'instant,' but it was real. He wanted Elliot.

Not in lust.

Not desire--- but as a protector.

Someone to keep safe. Remembering the anger, the embarrassment when he talked about his patrons. Jesse could see how striking Elliot was. But to objectify him? It was something more than physical.

“Are you fond of this painting?” a soft voice asked.

She materialized at his side.

“I'm fond of the painter,” Jesse said. “I met him once. I brought him here.”

Her eyes softened. “Jesse?”

Startled, he turned.

He was greeted by a lovely smile, a hand on her pearls. They accentuated her skin of age.

“We became very close,” a hand at her heart. “ He said the sea changed him. 'It made me better. If only I had believed.'”

Jesse was astonished.

“He remembered?”

“Oh yes,” she smiled, eyes reflecting her loss. “He expressed that day in all he painted. We sell a lot of his pieces,” she said, her gaze sweeping the walls. “These are the last. Before he said goodbye.”

Jesse saw their day captured in color and light. Each painting, each moment.

“Do you know where he is?”

She touched his arm gently. “Montana. He felt he should.”

He turned to the door, heart pounding.

“Jesse,” she called softly.

He paused.

“He wanted to find you. He just didn't know how.”

A tremor crossed his lips between anguish and hope.

“Dustin broke him,” she whispered. “Bring him home.”

The engine roared. His cellphone connected.

“I need an address,” he said.” He's in Montana.”

—-the noise and motion pushed him--- it reminded him of the surf---

Elliot in the arms of contentment, eyes closed--- listening--- Elliot turned towards the hotel lobby— time slides sideways--- bringing us to Elliot—

Elliot was lying on the sofa, an ice pack over his eye, and listening to his cell phone. Dustin showed his true colors.

“I understand.”

“I'm sorry, sir. Privacy laws prevent us from sharing that information,” the agent said.

“Yeah, I didn't think so. Thanks.”

Elliot disconnected. Emotions rising.

He wanted to find Jesse. Exhausting all options led to a black eye. Dustin installed Glympse. A tracking app. To spy.

The control came full circle.

Elliot was in this spot before. It felt worse than when Mr. Dinali groped him. Mr. Dinali wanted his soul. Dustin took his self-worth.

It made him feel isolated. Does hitting your spouse equate to love? Relationships can be tough, but one person isn't the boss. Elliot lost respect for Dustin, the relationship, and himself.

He had to make a change.

Yesterday, he spent time circling the airport, hoping to see Jesse's car. Every silver SUV lifted his spirits, only to crash when it wasn't him. He sat idling, the evening shadows approaching, and he noticed his reflection.

'If I could just see him once more, I'd tell him I'm sorry I chose fear.'

Traffic started moving again. His hope began to fade.

—-the motion created a blur--- Elliot returned to Jesse's car--- looking back toward him--- pain on Jesse’s face--- tears glazed his eyes—- Elliot entered the hotel--- to a life with Dustin--- time slipped sideways in a swirl--- returning us to Jesse.—-

Jesse loved it here. A haze covered Montana. It was color—- ejected. The amber cast caused by the waves of grain. In the drive, the gravel crunched. He had arrived. He could see peace, the calm in the serenity of the washed-out colors. Everything was a tint. Small amounts of white are mixed in, softening the saturation.

We are told we are products of our environment.

Elliot felt like Montana.

Calm.

Soft.

There was a calm grace in him. A presence. A charisma that said 'breathe.'

Jesse breathed again.

Windows with haze beckoned. The barn was what you would expect of an artist--- old, time-worn, washed in red and sun. Edges raw, wood showing through, worn by years of weather and wind. It was an old friend. Wheat swayed like dancers in love, stretching to the horizon.

A heart in a field of gold.

—-it hypnotized him, swirling him to Elliot--- at his easel--- apron covered in paint--- laughing with someone out of view--- showing joy--- time slipped sideways with currents of air, memory bringing us to Elliot—-

Elliot took in the purple majesty of the mountains. Eyes traveling the fields of grain, dancing in the afternoon light.

The colors belonged together, united. Each hugged the other. The clash of warm and cool palettes--- singing.

They vibrated.

He was back at the beginning.

The beauty is still peaceful.

A fear he understood.

Elliot was centered. Not holding to fear, he wanted to be braver like Jesse. Jesse had a quiet strength and knowledge of life. Elliot saw it the day they met. Appreciation of small things. Moments to slow down, to follow your heart. He saw it in his eyes when they said goodbye. Jesse had courage. Ready to embrace this. He wished he had.

Elliot breathed in the scents of wheat and hay, trying to reconcile his life. Heartache, if still to be his companion, would need a voice. He needed to share it with the world. In the only form he knew.

A way to release it.

He needed to paint.

—- recalling the smell of the paint and thinner--- Elliot saw Jesse's eyes in pain--- longing--- he was becoming a ghost--- Elliot's hand on the edge of the car, fingers draped in sadness--- turning to the hotel--- foot falls echoing as the memories slipped sideways and brought us to Jesse.—-

Jesse shut the door softly, not to hide his presence, but to contain his heart. He worried. But remembering the gallery matron's words: 'He wanted to find you,' made him push through.

He longed for Elliot.

This had to be right.

He couldn't die again.

Jesse looked around. Light through the clerestory windows. Dust drifted like music. The smell of aged wood, straw, and cobwebs blended with linseed oil. The smell of the gallery. Stepping inside were the paintings--- scale and presence, like a cathedral. It was Elliot's sanctuary.

Jesse traced the line of a wave, the slope of a mountain. They're beautiful, yet incomplete. A cry of absence. A moment not solidified. It's a longing. A silent space in need of healing.

Then he saw it. A smaller painting draped under a tarp, near his easel.

Guarded. Loved.

It called to him.

He lifted the cloth.

He saw a face.

Resemblance so haunting and real. He touched it.

“He remembered.”

Jesse felt the wind as it swept into the barn, swirling hay and light. The song in his heart returned. The one his heart remembered.

And loved--- yet again.

Tipping his head, falling into the music, Jesse danced into the memories that led him here.

—-swirling emotions, air filled with dancing straw, dust, memories--- there was a coming together of each, where stories became one--- a carousel for both, snapshots of joy in knowing the other--- colors intensified--- then settled to the softness that is Montana.—-

The breeze caressed Elliot's face, wafting a scent that was pleasant, soft, and familiar. It rekindled a feeling, an emotion. It came with a song, one he hadn't heard in a long time. His heart returned the love.

He heard tires on the gravel. The song faded as he walked the length of the barn. He peered in.

His breath caught.

He removed his hat.

The sun caressed his back.

He heard a voice his heart hadn't forgotten.

“How could I forget you?” he asked softly.

He swallowed tears.

“You never left my heart. I just didn't listen.”

They walked towards each other.

Elliot unsure.

Jesse's strong.

—-a gust of wind, combined with dust and straw, created swirling memories of when--- snapshots, smiles, laughter, and yelling into the wind--- hands brushed---

Swirling to now—-

The present where they need to be—-

“My last name is James.”

Elliot grinned, then laughed.

“You didn't know I was famous.”

Laughter filled with joy and relief, hands touching.

Soft.

Gentle.

Reassuring.

They stared into each other's eyes. Searching, seeking, what the other lacked.

The yin and yang--- joined.

The dual flame--- burned.

The doubt and confusion--- erased.

Jesse saw light again.

Elliot belonged.

They embraced, closing this chapter.

The embrace that lasted a lifetime.

—-everything meshed, feeling whole, complete--- memories of past and present—- the setting, locations—- feelings and time—- swirling together, ever tighter—- closer—- till it winked out.—-