We could have those things, I would give you those things. If only you let me.
The sun beamed down angrily that day in July; the day I saw you for the first time.
I had been sitting outside at a café, reading the weekly paper like I always did on Sundays and drinking my regular coffee silently as the world passed me by. You almost passed me by too, would have if it hadn’t been for the cyclist. He ran straight into you, knocking both of you down onto the harsh pavement. Hearing the commotion I looked up instantly and I saw you. From then on nothing else seemed to matter; nothing else seemed to even exist.
And all I could think was, ‘Would you let me love you?’
Because I would have, had you let me. I would have sung ‘I love you’ from the top of my lungs as we held hands walking down the street. You would be embarrassed by all the people staring as they passed by, but you’d be smiling as you tried to hush me and I’d know inside you enjoyed it; just as I’d enjoy the smile that would adorn your face. God, I’d do anything to make you smile like that.
No one smiles like you would. When you’d smile it’d be as though the sun was shining, your eyes brighter than a cloudless day and the shade of your cheeks would match the flowers that’d grow by the tree where we’d have our first picnic. That afternoon would be spent in silence as we’d lie side by side. Both of us would steel glances at the other until we caught one another. You would give a small smile, and I’d smile at that which would make your smile wider and soon we’d be grinning like fools only to look away and start all over again in a few moments.
As I thought these things you got up from where the cyclist had knocked you down, brushing your scraped palms against your pants. Twisting your one arm you noticed the small tear in your skin and swore quietly with a scowl marking that face of yours.
And I thought ‘Yeah, we’d have our bad days too.’
Because we would, and don’t let anyone tell you different. There would be days when words would spill from our mouths that would sink too deep when we both knew we didn’t really mean any of them. Maybe… maybe there would come a time where I would make you cry from all the hurtful things I would say. Oh love, I’d never mean to make you cry. Know that I would come right back to you, don’t you think for a second that I wouldn’t be there on my knees begging and grovelling for you to forgive me, if that was the least you could do.
But if you took me back I would hold onto you with strength that might just break you, but for that moment I wouldn’t care because I had been deprived of you for far too long. You would hold on with a grip just as strong and there would be tears in our eyes; tears of pain, tears of joy, tears of don’t you ever fucking let go of me again. Neither of us would.
By this time you had finished inspecting the cut on your arm and turned to the cyclist who had remained on the ground. You held out your hand to him and he gratefully took it, all the while apologizing profusely. With a shy smile you just waved him off, saying no worries as you helped the man resurrect his bike.
And as his hand grasped onto yours for leverage I couldn’t but think ‘I want that.’
Because I did. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel your touch. To spend lazy days with you in bed doing nothing more than tracing small patterns into the valleys of your soft skin, warm to the touch and glowing from the late afternoon sun that would flow in from the window and the pure happiness you would feel. That night we would make love with more passion and intimacy than ever before with promises and vows spoken into heated skin. The morning after that you would look to me as though I had given you the world. And maybe that was one thing I could never actually give to you, but I would definitely show it to you.
I’d take you places, love. Places where neither of us had been before. We’d go on adventures and find somewhere just for the two of us, and it’d be beautiful.
Even when you’d complain ‘How fucking long can one wall be?’
I’d be patient, even if we were at the bottom of things. ‘Don’t worry love, only 709 more steps to go.’
And when you turned after watching the cyclist pedal away and met my eyes, I swear you were thinking the same things. I felt home as I looked into your eyes. Would you let me do that? Would you let me be your lover?
But then the moment was over, and you just smiled as though you couldn’t see the question in my eyes, couldn’t see the longing and the want. You walked on by, passing me and entering the café. I could see you clearly through the window where you stood in line. You just stood there, breathing and living and being; as though nothing had happened, as though you hadn’t just ripped through my soul and destroyed my heart.
So I sat there, trying to piece myself back together and remember how I had lived without you before. My paper lay crinkled and forgotten in my lap whilst my coffee had become lukewarm but none of that mattered because that future, our future that we could have had, never did exist and never would but for in my mind.
I couldn’t help but see a kind of sadness in that.
----------Could End Here-------------Continue for Happier Ending----------If you want to stick with this then skip forward to bolded AN waaaay down there-------------------
It wasn’t long until I was pulled out of my thoughts as you sat down in the chair across from mine, a steaming Styrofoam cup in your hands. You crossed one leg over the other and placed both elbows on the arm rests of the metal chair, a small smile on your lips with a hesitant look in your eyes that you tried to hide.
“Spencer,” it fit. It was perfect, that name.
And then I thought maybe there was a chance we could have all of that.
Maybe you wanted those things too.
AN(Cont.): Alright so I wasn’t too pleased with this piece when I finished it but I figured I may as well release it to the world instead of leaving it forever lurking in my mind. I haven’t seen any good Joncer lately, and maybe I am just blind but it’s been getting hard to find. As you can see I didn’t know where to end it so maybe you guys can tell me what ending you like best.
PLEASE let me know what you think about this. REVIEW and tell me how I can become a better writer! PLEASE!