As It Was

Henry

In an instant, the world halted, every atom suspended in time. Gravity ceased its pull, leaving us adrift in a momentary pause. Numbness enveloped me amidst the chaos leading to this juncture, my feet rooted to the ground as the man I'd harbored secret affections for drew closer than ever before.

Chandler's touch, gentle and tentative, stirred a flurry of emotions within me. At first hesitant, his lips gradually responded to mine with a newfound urgency, each movement imbued with a sweetness I had long imagined but never experienced. Yet, despite the palpable reality of the moment, disbelief lingered like a stubborn shadow.

His lips were velvet as they started to move against mine. They rolled against me sweetly, each wave intensifying slightly as he added pressure to the kiss. For a few seconds, I was still lost in the feeling. Something that I'd only dreamt of happening was occurring in reality, but it wasn't sinking in.

Was any of this real? No matter how sure and tangible the pressure of Chan's lips was on mine, I couldn't accept what was happening. I'd had plenty of dreams about this over the years, but none were this realistic. They were distant, so incredibly impossible that they woke me up gasping for just one more taste.

As his hand left its place against the wall, descending to grasp my hip, a sudden awareness pierced through the surreal haze. Reality crashed back with a jolt, shattering the illusion and flooding me with icy clarity.

My eyes snapped open and my hands pushed at his chest, putting a couple of feet of distance between us and separating our lips. I still couldn't figure out what the hell was happening. Did someone spike my drink at the restaurant earlier? However, I was immediately hit with the proof that this wasn't some sort of sick hallucination when my eyes locked with his.

Chandler was positively swimming with inner turmoil. I'd never seen him look that way before. His eyes were wide as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done. His face was quickly turning pale, but his cheeks were positively flaming. He looked feverish and completely and utterly lost, a mere stranger hiding within a familiar body. The Chandler Lee I once knew had jumped ship and gone missing.

All of the previous anger and frustration I'd felt toward him vanished. Jack, the fight, and everything else I had been feeling previously didn't matter any longer. Chandler crossed a line that I thought he'd etched in stone all those years ago.

Just like that.

I was no longer upset with him for sabotaging my date with Jack. I knew deep down that he hadn’t done it on purpose, but at the time I was so frustrated that nothing ever seemed to go my way. I was trying so hard to move on but ended up failing once again. I was disappointed in myself and the world for the crappy luck I’d been cursed with, and it caused my fuse to blow.

Riding the aftershocks, I was beside myself that Chandler had done something so drastic so easily. I'd been secretly in love with him for so many painful, long years. Yet, he could feel one second of confusion or whatever it was that went through his mind, and just kiss me. I'd never even had the courage to hold his hand for a beat too long.

In that one measly second, everything had changed dramatically. The whole world turned upside down, throwing off gravity and causing the stars and moon outside to burn out. Timelines collapsed and new ones began as history and fate rewrote themselves.

Every plan or hope I had in a long friendship with Chan crumbled and distorted. There was nothing else that mattered anymore. All my eyes could see was the man I thought I knew better than anyone else falling apart in front of me. I hated how, for the first time since I’d known him, he looked just as scared as I was.

"What the hell are you doing?" My eyes were wide as I stared blankly at his broad chest in front of me. I couldn't bear to look at his widened eyes any longer. His pupils were blown wide, drowning out the honey brown and resembling a dear caught in headlights.

"Henry," He squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hands through his messy onyx hair, taking a step back and breathing quickly, "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that- it wasn't supposed to happen like that. I just-" He cut himself off, beginning to pace back and forth in front of me.

Despite saying my name, I knew he no longer having a conversation with me. He was arguing with himself inside, fighting to speak his thoughts but they came out broken and muddled as a result. As confused and lost as I was at that moment, I still felt an annoyingly suffocating urge to comfort and calm him down.

"Yeah…" I observed him as he made his way to the couch and sat down, crossing his hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees. He was trying to make himself as small as possible, hiding from everything. "You know what, I think we both need some rest." My heart was pounding in my chest, and as badly as I craved to know what the hell he was thinking, I felt like my brain was about to combust. My body was burning up, but a cold-sweat sent goosebumps running down my spine.

A part of me knew that even if I tried to push him further, he wouldn't have any answers. From where he sat, I could see his mind spinning in circles. His almond eyes were trained on the floor, refusing to glance anywhere else until I walked past him to leave the room.

He caught my forearm in his grasp, standing to his full height and taking a shallow breath as I turned to look at him. His Adam’s apple bobbed within the long expanse of his neck as he swallowed hard.

"Henry," His voice broke slightly, and for the first time in all the years that I'd known Chandler Lee, I saw his eyes start to brim with tears, "I'm sorry. Please-" He seemed to choke on his own words, pausing to look down at our socked feet and away from my face.

He knew what he'd done. He changed things for good, and the worst part was that there wasn't anything I could do to fix it. Usually, I knew exactly what to say to make him feel better. I knew what calmed him and put him at ease, but I was at a loss for words. He crossed a line that I never would've thought he would trespass, and now that he did I was left not knowing how to comprehend it.

There was nothing I could do to make the situation he just put us in vanish. We couldn't just pretend it didn't happen, but I didn't know where to go from here. Having a conversation with him right now felt like an impossible task. My heart was beating out of my chest, ready to burst through my ribcage and make a run for it.

I know we were both lost in an angry haze just moments before, but even that didn't explain why he'd done something so crazy. There was too much to think about and too many questions that didn't have answers. By the look of it, we both needed some time to think.

I still couldn't fully process what just happened. My mind was clouded with a thick fog of confusion, relentless as I tried desperately to clear it away so I could attempt to get ahold of myself.

There was so much I wanted to say and so much I needed to know, but how? I forced myself to swallow the growing lump in my throat and pry my arm out of Chandler's grip, only meeting his watery eyes for a moment, "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

I turned around and quickly trudged to my bedroom before Chan could see my own eyes filling with fresh, frustrated tears. If I stuck around any longer, I'd break down in front of him. I felt as if I was about to spill the contents of my stomach and faint all at once.

What happened didn't fully sink in until I closed the door behind me and let it all go. I dropped onto my bed in a heap, letting my face fall into my quivering hands at last. The sobs wracked through my body and shook my shoulders as I tried my best to stay as quiet as possible. The last thing I needed was for Chandler to hear me.

I was never one to pity myself or cry over things that I couldn't control. However, I was feeling so much at once that my heart was weighing down on my stomach, leaving me feeling about as heavy as a ton of bricks.

It felt like everything had changed since the accident. Chandler was more touchy than usual, and he babied me a bit more than I remembered him doing before. Yet, I stubbornly brushed it off and blamed it on him needing comfort and someone to take care of; something he could control after such a horrible event nearly took his life.

I thought back to what he said after I pushed him away. 'It wasn't supposed to happen like that.' Does that mean there was another way it was supposed to happen? Did he want it to happen differently?

Then again, maybe I heard him wrong. I was so panicked and shocked, maybe I didn't hear him correctly, or maybe what he said just came out wrong. It couldn't possibly be anything more than that, right? Lee Chandler had only ever dated girls and had an interest in gossiping about the cutest girls at school. He was the type to run around the playground pulling on girl's pigtails.

Never once had he told me about any confusion he'd felt about whether he was into guys as well. He always told me anything and everything pretty early on in our friendship, so why would he keep something like that from me?

Did he feel like he couldn't trust me? Was I not a good enough friend?

That thought burned as it settled in my chest. I should've been around more recently. Maybe I could've taken a couple more days off of work here and there just to be with him. Sure, I already missed more than I could handle making up for, but maybe there was a way to make it possible. What was he going through? He put on a smile that seemed so much like the good old days, I'd assumed he was doing well. Perhaps I should have known it was a bit too quick for such a miraculous recovery.

My thoughts were suffocating, wildly whizzing through my mind as I tried to decode the situation. Maybe he truly was just confused. Maybe he was just a bit... pent-up? Surely it had been a while since he'd been intimate with a woman.

Then, why was he so affected by it? His reaction was nothing like I could have ever expected. I'd never seen him even come close to crying before, but he was falling apart out there. Watching someone who'd always been an untreatable force start to rip at the seams was absolutely terrifying.

I was itching to go back out there and talk to him about it. A sick feeling was settling in my gut, urging me to stop being childish and running away from my problems. I shook my head, feeling ridiculous that I was so scared. I wasn't the one who kissed him; I didn't have anything to explain. All I had to do was listen, but I wasn't even strong enough to do that.

Still, I knew that I needed answers. What was going on inside his head that made him do it?

The image of his fearful, lost eyes was burned behind my lids. My heart thudded painfully against my ribcage at the thought of Chandler so upset with himself that he couldn't hold it in any longer. Still, I wasn't ready to go out there and face him.

I stood up once the tears started to cease their fall onto my puffy face and undressed quickly, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor. There was no use in getting worked up over something that most likely meant nothing. All good friends had awkward moments that they forgive and forget.

Maybe this was ours.

Maybe he drank. Even though doing so was extremely dangerous during recovery, perhaps he'd decided to do so anyway.

For my sanity's sake, I chose to ignore the fact that I knew there hadn't been a single ounce of alcohol on his tongue while his lips encompassed my own.

Even though forgetting felt like the last thing I could do, I had to at least attempt to move forward. On my nightstand, the clock sat loudly ticking its hands with every second that passed. It was patronizing me; a reminder that the night was coming to a close even if I didn't want it to. As badly as I wished I could stop time and wallow in my confusion and pain for a while longer, the world was still turning. No matter how long I sat and tried to put the pieces together, nothing made sense.

With an exhausted huff, I threw the covers back and buried myself in my bed already knowing that I wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

As the moon bid the stars farewell for the night and the sun kissed the horizon, the morning was dreadfully arriving outside my window. The tears and my brain working in overdrive for most of the night finally wore me down enough to allow me to be lulled to sleep for a bit. As I slipped into a fitful slumber, my mind drowsily swam with the memory of Chandler's petal-soft lips on mine.

When I awoke only a few hours later, I debated just staying in bed for the rest of the day. It was Saturday, which meant there was no work. Technically, there was nothing I had to do. However, I forced myself to get up and ignore the migraine pounding in my head. I knew that nothing good could possibly come from pretending like I didn't exist and I couldn't hide under my covers forever.

I also knew that I needed to work things out with Chandler, no matter how much thinking about it made my chest fill with anxiety.

I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on slowly. I then trudged over to my closet, looking for a sweater. Out of habit, my hand went for Chandler's worn hoodie that he let me borrow so often growing up that he ended up just giving it to me.

Once my skin brushed the soft cotton, my hand flew back as if I'd been singed. My head was instantly flooded with an even more vivid memory of last night's events, making my stomach churn all over again. The feeling of his lips had set my body aflame in the way I'd so desperately wanted Jack's to do, and the smell of his musky cologne was still burned into my nose. He always smelled amazing-he smelled familiar and like home, but the heat of his body and the sensation of him that close to me made him smell even better. If I hadn't seen how affected Chan was last night then I still would have convinced myself that I imagined it all.

The reality was that it was real, though. Chandler kissed me, whether I could accept it or not.

I averted my eyes quickly, grabbing the next sweater I saw and pulling it on hastily. I slowly made my way to the door before settling my hand on the knob. The metal was cool against my skin, calming my nerves a bit. I took a deep breath, preparing to be faced with a Chandler who was very ready to talk about what happened. He was always calculating things. To others, he seemed at ease and chill. Inside, he was always choosing his words carefully and trying his best to avoid mistakes. With this knowledge, I figured he'd been thinking about what to say to me the entire night and would be prepared to discuss last night.

I swung the door open quickly before I could talk myself out of it and stepped into the hallway.

From the second I crossed the threshold of my bedroom into the hall, I knew something was wrong.

To my surprise, it was deadly silent. The usual murmur of the television wasn't echoing around the apartment, and there was no familiar rustling of Chandler in the kitchen making breakfast. My brows furrowed in confusion when I stepped into the living room and saw none other than Chan zipping a small duffle bag shut on the couch.

"Chandler?" My voice was soft in the tension-filled air, "What are you doing?" I knew the answer, but I refused to accept it.

His eyes snapped up, startled at my sudden entrance, "Oh, good morning." His voice was quiet as he looked around restlessly, not settling on anything for more than a second before skirting away again. "I-I have somewhere to be right now. Also, I gotta go bring some stuff back to my place." His voice still had its usual resonating depth, but it was also unfamiliarly frail and shook slightly as he picked the duffle bag up and swung the strap over his broad shoulder before making his way to the door slowly. "The doctor called and said it's fine for me to be on my own again because my recovery has gone so well..."

His movements were slightly panicked- like he didn't quite know what to do or where to go. He refused to look at me for more than a second at a time, and if anxiety was rising in my chest before, it was now bubbling over and spilling at my feet.

Don't do this, Chandler.

Don't push me away.

I stood still, not knowing what I should say to diffuse the situation. I didn't know what needed to be done in order to try and fix things, but I knew for sure that I didn't want Chandler to leave. Of all the things I'd been prepared to deal with after I stepped out of the haven that was my bedroom, this wasn't one of them.

Still, my mind was covered in honey, its thick ooze preventing my thoughts from forming coherent words. I wondered if this was how Chandler had felt last night; wanting to say so much all at once but not knowing how.

"Chan," I followed him to the door, trying my best to stay calm and collected while I watched him slip his shoes on and put his wallet in the back pocket of his black jeans. "You don't have to do this." I felt my throat closing again, and my blood ran cold as I suddenly felt sick.

He paused for a moment and turned toward me, as if considering saying something but closed his mouth and shook his head slightly. Just like that, his eyes were empty and the bags under them were dark, sucking away the pure joy they once emanated.

"I'll see you." He gave me a small, barely-there smile that didn't even come close to reaching his cat-like eyes. I opened my mouth to say something that would make him stay, but he was out of the door and closing it behind him in a blur.

My eyes burned with hot, fresh tears as my lips quivered. Yet, I couldn't move from my spot in front of the door, even as my vision blurred and my knees began to shake.

He left, and I didn't know when or if he was planning on coming back.

"Dammnit!" I pounded my fist on the wall, huffing as my chest rose and fell erratically. I was losing it quickly, but I was scared for us more than anything. All of the stress I'd been feeling bubbled up inside of me and combusted.

My thoughts were all over the place. They flew around the room in circles, mocking me and snickering at my misery as they poked and prodded at my shivering body.

I wasn't mad at Chandler for what he did. I was mad at myself for running away instead of staying with him and waiting for him to explain himself. I knew I should've been there for him, even if it took all night for him to be able to express one coherent thought. He was so lost in his own head, and I hated the fact that I walked away while he was crumbling in front of me.

He was my best friend; my first love. How did I manage to make things even worse?

I was selfish; I was so overwhelmed with what happened and how I was feeling inside that I was blinded to the obvious signs that he wasn't doing okay. I knew he'd been acting off for a while but I was so focused on being the perfect best friend that I was too scared to ask him about it. I didn't push when I needed to, and I let him deal with whatever it was that he was going through on his own- without his best friend.

If I could go back, I'd finally tell him how I felt. I'd tell him that I wasn't angry at him for kissing me but I needed an explanation. I'd pull him back in and try to express how much he means to me, even if it was just a moment of confusion and curiosity to him.

Even if he rejected me and told me that it was a stupid mistake, I'd finally have told him the truth. I'd no longer feel like a liar hiding secrets from the person I cherished more than anything.

Most of all, I resented myself for letting him walk out that door without so much as a promise to come back.

As I fell to my knees, back to the wall, I faced the door he'd walked out of just minutes before. I felt my mind slipping away from me like prey from its predator. I was so tired, and I couldn't handle all these feelings at once.

The crisp morning air was bitingly cold and unforgiving around me as if there were no longer any walls around me to protect me from the outside world. Yet, even the sharp pinch of a blade cutting through my skin would have hurt less than what I was feeling at that moment.

Hating others is easy, but hating yourself burns in a way that leaves a scar.

Even if I didn't want to admit it before, I was faced with it now. I pretended to be nothing more than his best friend for so many years that I falsely convinced myself that I could live my life fully, even if we decided to go our separate ways one day. I always told myself that I would be fine as long as he was happy. Now, the realization of just how pathetic I truly was from the thought of life without him stared me straight in the face.

Watching him lay in that hospital bed for so long, I promised that I'd never let him go if he woke up. I said it almost every day, wondering if he could hear the words I whispered to him and feel my hands holding his. Now, I see that I've let my cowardice behavior ruin things at last. I took him for granted instead of being brave and taking a chance. Nobody else was preventing me from a chance at true happiness but myself, but now it was too late. He left with regrets and a broken conscience, and there was a good chance that he would want nothing to do with me anymore.

I could have stopped him if I tried hard enough, but now he was gone- and the worst part was that I'd let him go.

"I'm sorry, Chan." I whispered through tears as I twisted my fingers in my lap, staring at the front door blankly as though he could hear me somehow, "I broke my promise."