The Reckless Collision

Sam.

~~~

The date night with Ray had been incredible, one of those moments that felt like it existed in its own little bubble, separate from reality. Getting to know him had become my new favorite thing, though my feelings for him still terrified me.

It was ridiculous, really—I'd only met him two weeks ago. But somehow, it felt like I'd known him for years. Maybe it was because we'd spent so much time together in such a short span, or maybe it was the way he had walked into my life just as everything else was spiraling.

His openness was so unlike anything I was used to, and that scared me too.

I'd started packing for the trip, even though the tour was still a week away. I liked being prepared; it gave me a sense of control when everything else felt like chaos. As I sifted through my wardrobe, my hand brushed against something familiar: my journal.

It wasn't really a diary—I didn't write in it every day. It was more of a place to unload when my thoughts got too heavy to carry. The brown leather cover, embossed with the family crest and my name, made it feel both personal and official. My grandfather had given it to me, and now just touching it brought a bittersweet pang to my chest.

I flipped it open, the faint scent of leather and paper wafting up, and skimmed through my last entry. Michael. His name stared back at me from the dark, jagged handwriting that filled the page. That was nine months ago, right after he died. The words were heavy and raw like I had poured out every ounce of pain I felt at the time.

I didn't want to linger there, so I decided to write about something brighter: Raymond.

2018 June.

I still can't believe he is gone, I miss my Grandpa every day, and this feeling is not something I felt before. It's different from when I missed him, knowing I can always visit or call him, this feels so permanent. The feeling of longing for his hug and voice, his always encouraging words, is killing me slowly.

It has been nine months and that feeling keeps creeping in, sometimes for a split second I forget he is dead and pick up the phone to call him, but I remember that he is gone. I found it comforting, knowing I spent as much time as I could with Grandpa and that he lived longer than doctors expected.

I recently shared my loss with Ray, and no one understood it as much as he did. He didn't say much, but I can see it in his eyes, he experienced such loss, and he knows exactly how I feel.

I still don't know so much about Raymond, but I'm starting to love the feeling of finding something new about him, it's like addiction and I get a fix every day. This feeling is new and something I needed in my life.

With Tom I always knew what to expect, I could guess his thoughts and actions. But with Ray, I can't, it's scary in a good way. Maybe the comfort I felt with Tom, knowing everything there is to know about him kept me from actually coming out of my shell, and discovering what I want in my life.

It's all because of Raymond in a way, if not for him bumping into me, I would never know about Scott, and I would probably be back in New York by now, miserable but in the comfort of Tom's arms.

Scott, I have to think about him every day, I never thought about him as much as these past days. I just want to know, why? Why does he feel the need to follow me? I am not that interesting, and my life is boring, all those photos looked exactly the same, I just wore different clothes. So it's boring, it must be very tiresome to watch me do the same things every day.

Another, thing which is bothering me, is why he never told me about his feelings. I am stupid, and I needed to listen to Molly. But I feel like if Scott had told me about his feelings, things would have been much different.