Reaching High

Thankfully, Remi did stop. Sam walked a few more steps toward him but stopped short of getting close. He wanted this so badly to be a story, to be a situation where he could just rush to Remi's arms and be swept up and have the romance be fixed, have the tale in his diaries that he'd obsessively read over and over to be complete. But this was not a story and he stayed at a distance and listened. At first Remi confessed that he did not really want to leave and Sam wore a hesitant smile, which disappeared as he continued to speak. He was quiet for a moment after Remi had finished, considering and looking anywhere but the sad green eyes. "...But...if you agree that I am not him. Would this not be a fresh relationship, of sorts? It is practically like meeting someone new in the street. It could be a...a clean slate. I'm not trying to erase what I've done, but...instead of trying to cobble together what we had. We could make something new...?" It was a final stab in the dark, a last try at saving something he didn't really know, but felt was precious. "...If you think me desperate, I am sorry. I just...reading those diaries. I've never...seen my own thoughts so happy, so focused on the future and not the past. Then...when I did...that. The entry is rushed, messy. Something went awfully wrong. I want to write happy things about you again after it. And be able to say you were happy too." Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness