Disclaimer: I don't own Pacey, Dawson or Joey. And I don't own the song below, "I Will Not Forget You," but at the same time, I don't know who it's by. Someone tell me if they know, please!
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I remember the nights I watched you lay sleeping
Your body gripped by some far away dream
Well I was so scared and so in love then
And so lost in all of you that I had seen
But no one ever talked in the darkness
No voice ever added fuel to the fire
No light ever shone in the doorway
Deep in the hollow of earthly desires
But if in some dream there was brightness
If in some memory some sort of sigh
And flesh be revived in the shadows
Blessed our bodies would lay so entwined
And I will oh I will not forget you
Nor will I ever let you go
I will oh I will not forget you
I remember when you left in the morning at daybreak
So silent you stole from my bed
To go back to the one who possesses your soul
And I back to the life that I dread
So I ran like the wind to the water
Please don't leave me again I cried
And I drew bitter tears at the ocean
But all that came back was the tide....
And I will oh I will not forget you
Nor will I ever let you go
I will oh I will not forget you
So I ran like the wind to the water
Please don't leave me again I cried
And I drew bitter tears at the ocean
But all that came back was the tide....
And I will oh I will not forget you
Nor will I ever let you go
I will oh I will not forget you
~I Will Not Forget You~
I turn restlessly beneath the rumpled sheet. The thoughts plaguing me wont let me sleep. I don't even know why I'm trying. I prop myself up on my elbow and turn to look at the source of my troubles. You.
The dim moonlight shining it's way through the window accents your features perfectly. Your hair is spread out across the feather pillow, framing your face, bringing out the golden tones of your skin. Your lips are curved in a small, barely there smile. Just enough for me to know in your dreams, at least, you're happy.
I've brought this unease down on myself. Granted, you could have stayed away, should have stayed away. But I could and should have stopped you. And I didn't. So this mess we're in is our own doing. I don't know what keeps bringing you back to me every Friday night. Is it the sex? It's good, yes, better than good. The passion is beyond what I thought could exist between a man and a woman. But it's not the sex that keeps me pacing back and forth across my living room until you arrive at exactly 8:55 every Friday night. It's not what urges me to hurry through my office work so I can rush home to prepare a dinner for us... which inevitable gets cold by the time we get around to eating at 11:00. It isn't why I continue to betray my lifelong best friend with my head held high. The sex isn't that keeps me letting you into my bed... and my heart week after week.
You sigh in your sleep, and turn your head to the side slightly, giving me a better view of your sweet face. And I smile, how can I not love you? Your smile is so endearing, your eyes so full of life, your laugh so musical, your mind so quick, your lips so soft, your heart so open. I take what I can get. And if he can't satisfy you, I will. If all I get is one night a week, then so be it. I take those single nights and cherish them.
It was a shock the first time. He had gone to his weekly poker game at the dorms, and you came over to watch movies with me. One thing led to another. Morning came and you told me it was a mistake, that you loved him. I nodded. Sure, it was a mistake. Of course it meant nothing to me. Yes, I could forget it ever happened.
A week later you were back, this time without movies, without guilt, without your heart. You left that with him, and I knew it. And I didn't stop you from hurting me. It's a bittersweet torture, that's why I keep letting you come back. I can't help loving you, can't help yearning for the feel of your skin next to mine. And as much as it hurts to have you walk away every morning, prepared with an excuse to give him, I can't tell you no, because it hurts less than not having you at all.
You never made me any promises, never swore eternal love, or even lust. You never said anything that encouraged me to fall in love with you. You never said you'd be back the next week. Never told me you loved me. You didn't play games with me... I was what I was. Your friend in daylight, your lover by moon light. And that was all. Anything else I thought existed between us was a creation of my own mind.
I pulled the wool over my own eyes, I put on the rose colored glasses, I deceived myself. And tonight you stripped those away from me. I let myself believe that if I loved you enough, you'd forget him. If I kissed you enough, it would mean something to you. If I made you laugh, the smile you wore would be for me alone. That if I held you long enough, you'd stay.
But of course, you never did.
We never talked about any of this, not even in the beginning. It was an unspoken agreement, we never told anyone and we never talked about it. I have no idea what you tell him when you go home to him every morning. For all that I know he could still be sleeping when you arrive. He's never hinted to me that he thinks you're cheating on him... and, of course, I never ask.
It's funny how easy lying to him has become. After the first time I though it was written all over my face 'I slept with your girlfriend!'. Apparently not, but then, he was always known for being oblivious. Now it's become too easy, he's profoundly clueless.
If I let myself think about it, the guilt weighs down so heavily I can't move. He's my best friend, he has been all my life. He stood by my side through everything, encouraging me, supporting me, laughing with me, talking with me... and now I'm betraying the most sacred rule of friendship. But I can't let you go. So I don't let myself think about it.
Now it seems I don't have a choice, I can't keep the thoughts at bay. You opened the floodgate. They are finally invading my mind and my heart, keeping me awake. I don't mind though, to sleep tonight would be a waste. I'd much rather soak up the vision of you, watch you breathe. The slow rise and fall of your chest, the thin sheet covering you shielding nothing from my eyes. Not that I need to see your body. I've memorized ever curve every depression, every scar, every freckle over the last ten months. My fingers will know the feel of your skin long after you've left me permanently.
I need out. I need air. I need to scream at the top of my lungs for you not to go. I grab my boxers and jeans from the floor and hurriedly pull them on. I slide open my closet door quietly so as not to disturb you from your slumber and grab the red BU t-shirt that you always borrow when you're here. It smells of you. Yet another way I can torture myself. I pull it on and leave the room closing the door gently behind me. I find my sandals near the couch, next to your discarded shirt. With a sigh I pull them on, grab my keys and leave.
It's 3 am in Boston. Not much going on. Not that I'm looking. I'm concentrating only on the sound of my feat on the dry pavement. It's warm out, humid for this early in the morning. It's been a hot sticky summer. One I will never forget. The stars twinkle in defiance of my misery. I feel like cursing them for my pain. But the mistakes are mine, and tonight you're announcement forced me to face the heartache this whole affair has brought on. Ignoring it is no longer an option, I haven't stopped thinking about since you spoke.
I arrive at my destination, only a few blocks from my apartment. The wood beneath my hands has been worn smooth by the rain and the wind, bleached a dirty grey by the sun. The waves below me crash quietly, repeatedly, never ceasing their assault on the rocky beach. It beats in time with my heart, pounding the love I feel through every vein, over and over again, never allowing my broken heart a chance to recover.
I can't stop the tears as they fall down to meet the ocean's waves. I scream the words in my head, "Please, don't leave me again," but they pass through my lips as only a whisper in the wind. And I cry... for all the times I should have in the past ten months. For all the times I ignored the wretched anguish in my heart and pretended it would last forever.
I hadn't expected them, your words to me, as you settled against my chest after reaching fulfillment. The lids over your seductive brown eyes had drifted closed so you never saw the raw pain they had caused me. They still echo in my mind, I can still here your voice, husky and rich whisper, "I wont be coming back."
So this is it, you're going to walk out of my bedroom, out of my apartment and out of my life. But never out of my heart. I don't know what to do now. Should I tell you how you've become my life? How much you mean to me? How much I want you to come back a week from now? How much I love you? How much I want you to leave him? How much I want you to love me?
Or do I let you go back to him in silence?
Silence it is. If you wanted to leave him, you would have done so by now. You obviously have no idea how I feel, or you wouldn't have kept coming back. You were always skittish when it came to me having feelings for you. I sigh, I'm wasting time. I should be with you, remembering you as you are now, in my bed, in my heart, in my life.
I plea one last time with the ocean, "Please, please don't leave me again," before I make my way back to my apartment. I enter the apartment and immediately begin stripping back down to my boxers. You're in the same position you were when I left you. I can't help smiling to myself. More than any other emotion I experience when I'm with you I feel love.
I lay gently back down on the mattress, pulling the sheet over me and stare at the ceiling. I must have memorized that ceiling perfectly, I know ever crack, every hole, every cobweb. I'm surprised when I feel your hand touch mine in the darkness. You slip your long fingers palm up beneath mine and you intertwine them around mine. I lightly squeeze your hand, thankful for the soothing contact.
I want to stay conscious during our last night together. I want to savor these few hours I have left with you. But after my emotional breakdown at the dock, I can't keep my eyes open. I'm exhausted, my last thought as I drift into a restless sleep is that, come morning, you'll be gone.
You do your best not to wake me when you remove your hand from mine. But it's useless on your part. The moment you break contact with me is the moment my heart starts to ache all over again. I open my eyes to slits and to see you collecting your clothes from the floor. I sit up to watch your liquid movements as you dress yourself. You pull your hair into a messy ponytail. The reddish pink light streaming in through the window gives you an ethereal glow.
You take your time preparing to leave, as if you know I'm watching. I haven't moved though, my eyes are barely slits, how you know I'm awake is beyond me. I hold myself still. I don't know what to do, pretend to sleep or sit up and tell you to stay.
In the end there's no question what I'll do. But debating it makes me provides me with a sense of self. I can pretend that I have a control in the matter. I'm kidding myself of course. I never had control when it came to you. Not before and certainly not now. You always called the shots between us... ever since we were kids. But pretending allows me some comfort.
I feel you pause in the doorway and it takes all my self restraint to hold myself still under your warm gaze. The room grows cold as your presence empties from it and I can't bear to stay there any longer. I rise and open the door to the living room. You're there.
You hold a picture from graduation in your right hand. It's of the three of us. You're grinning in the picture, sandwiched between me and him. Like you are now. Or you used to be. You've made your decision. And I wont stand in the way of your heart.
You turn away quickly before I can see your eyes. I take a tentative step forward, but stop. You put the picture back on the mantel. I struggle to find any kind of parting words, anything at all. But nothing seems right. How am I supposed to say good bye to you, the love of my life? You don't even suspect how I feel, let alone reciprocate in any way.
After a minute of silence you turn around and face me. You're eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, you must not have slept as well as I thought you did. You meet my eyes just once before lowering them and heading for the door.
"It's over?" I ask before I can think the words, let alone stop them. You pause with your hand on the door handle. I want to look away, but I don't, the small sliver of hope I have left remaining holds my gaze on the back of your head.
I'm surprised by your seemingly reluctance to leave. Your shoulders slump at my words and your head hangs down. I can see your knuckles turning white as you grip the handle. My heart skips a beat as your determination falters.
I wait, feeling the tension mount between us. My scalp tingles, I'm holding my breath, my heart beats rapidly as I hope against hope for you to turn back to me. I can hear nothing but my own rapid heart beat. You lift your head and turn the handle, walking out of my door and out of life.
I sigh and collapse on the couch, my head between my hands. I whisper to myself the words that I'll never been able to say to you. "I love you, Jo."
The End
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