Inspired by Four Tet's "Leila Came Around and We Watched A Video"
Colin:
Sometimes I look at the pictures and hear the sea, the breeze, the cold wind. I take plenty and they get piled into albums, or just stacks on my desk. I hang them on walls until the dry out, crumple and fall on the floor while I’m on tour. I usually come back and collect them, the edges never straight anymore.
The wind blows through the open window and makes the pictures tremble. It picks up the ones on the floor and they move about, creating patterns. Jonny’s picture is overlapping with Thom’s, and their faces look alive, and even on the different pieces of paper they tilt their heads toward each other.
I always knew there were no boundaries between them, but I also knew that they never took advantage. There are families, kids, households, dinner parties, double-family outings, Sunday phone calls and trick sharing, but there’s no awkwardness and there’s no shame or guilt.
On one of the pictures Thom is laughing with his head thrown back and eyes squeezed and Jonny is touching his knuckles, smiling.
Their unspoken contract – they never discuss their relationship and they never betray their families.
Sometimes I remember little things – like them sitting on the subway close and talking in quiet voices while the rest of us were a couple paces away. Or Thom picking up Jonny’s hand, turning it over and tracing the lines with his finger. Jonny pressing his forehead against Thom’s temple, looking at his profile, his eyelashes tickling Thom’s skin with each blink.
The sound of music and laughter from their hotel room.
Clothes-sharing and Jonny’s head on Thom’s lap in the long bus ride.
Inside jokes and murmurs that are known only to them.
Sometimes I visit Jonny or Thom in their houses and see them run around with children and joking with their wives and something made of steel clutches my heart. I’m so very fond of their happiness, but I sense sadness behind it all. Thom embraces his wife and I can’t help but notice that he is not pulling her close to him, the way the lover would. He kisses her quickly, friendly more than loving, and he talks to her with playfulness of a brother.
One of the pictures I cherish, even though it’s a little smudged and unfocused. I took it on the shore, when Thom and Jonny were standing close to the sea, facing each other, their arms stretched on either side of them, fingers entwined tightly. They were looking into each other’s eyes, calmly and intensely, their faces close. Jonny’s head was hovering over Thom’s a little, both of them looking like they were going in for a kiss, their hair mingling in the salty air.
It’s an old picture, and it’s blurry – but I’m very glad, that I was able to make it, to catch that unspeakable something that has been floating around them ever since they met.
Sometimes I dream about it – the shore, their sweaters, their laughter and music, and sometimes I dream about them kiss – the image I always forget in the morning - kissing deeply and with infinite love, holding onto each other fiercely, digging fingers into their skin and crushing their faces together.
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