More accurately, he came to visit one day and never left. I’ve just never gotten around to taking him home, and he’s never asked me to. Blue is my companion in loneliness, an island neither of us is quite ready to leave. Our ghosts rattle loudest at night, so we’ve fallen into the habit of sleeping together, curled up against each other like shipwrecked children.
I’m in that in-between place, not quite asleep, but not awake either, when I feel his hand move up my thigh. I roll towards him, finding his lips waiting for me in the dark. We’ve kissed before, but only for the sake of kissing, this feels different. Hands search, clasp, unclasp, wander, return. I let him pull my top off. I tangle in the sleeves, he runs his hands down my sides as I pull the shirt over my head.
I feel the outside of his underwear, tracing the outline of his erection. I free him, urgently guiding him towards me, then inside me. That’s when Mei arrives. She haunts him. Blue hasn’t fucked anyone since the day he flew away from her, on the other side of the earth. When he slides inside me, he shuts his eyes. I know at that moment he’s back in their apartment, the one he’s described to me in loving detail– the cherry red couch they found in a thrift store, the row of pebbles on the windowsill from that day at the beach, how they used to drink mint tea and play Sudoku during the long hot tropical afternoons.
Blue runs his fingers through my short red hair, but it’s her hair- thick and black, wavy like the restless ocean that separates them. He kisses me, tenderly bites my lips, nibbles my ears, tiny gestures full of love he doesn’t have for me.
Sex either always changes everything or never changes anything and I don’t know which this will be.
We fuck for a long time, longer than either of us has the desire for. We don’t talk, we’re only mouths and hands, writhing bodies, a new form of sign language. “I know you miss her, but I’m here,” I spell out. Blue’s eyes are wide, unfocused, his body moves to a rhythm I can’t hear.
Finally, there’s not enough room for everyone here in these big empty aching spaces. We come together in a slow arch, clinging to each other, covered in sweat and tears. Slowly, he opens his eyes and looks into mine.
“But why did you?” he asks, bewildered.
“I didn’t, you reached for me…your hand…it just…happened,” I answer.
“I was dreaming,” he says helplessly, “It was Mei, she was just right there, just…there, then not.” He wrings his hands in frustration, as if he was this close to making her appear.
“She was here,” I say quietly. “She was.”