Arrows Through Archer

by Nash Summers

There was no light at the end of the tunnel because there was no fucking tunnel. There was a pit and in that pit was nothing but darkness. In the center, stood I.

I closed my eyes and stood on the pavement, hands shoved into my pockets, praying to the sky that it would flood the entire world.

“Hang out with your son. Pretend I’m not gay. Wallow in self-pity.”

If I were left alone, as Mallory was, well… I might not be alone very long.

After we’d returned home from our brief trip, I found everything harder to do. Going to classes was harder, focusing was harder, waking up each day was harder. I didn’t have the energy to do anything but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.

“Don’t you want to be happy, Ace?” And because he was my best and only friend, I said, “I don’t know. I don’t remember what it feels like anymore.”

“Because the only way I can sleep at night is imagining that my parents might be proud of me for doing so.”

“I don’t think it, I know it. My brother—the person who knew my parents better than anyone else in the universe—told me. He told me they’d have hated the person I’ve become.”

“You’re like a brother to me, Archer. You’re not perfect, but no one is. And if I met a billion people on this planet, I’d still choose you. You and your silent fucking depression—you and your quiet heart and your fear of living.

Alone. Hopeless. Exhausted. Like the world, no matter its small charms, was fading in on itself.

I wasn’t all right. I wasn’t okay. I wouldn’t ever be okay.

Sometimes words weren’t enough. Sometimes words weren’t anything at all. So instead of using useless tools in a moment surrounded by darkness pushing at its edges, slowly, I reached out and laced my fingers with his. Without saying a word, he squeezed my hand and didn’t let go.

Sometimes, words meant nothing. Other times, they meant far, far too much.

Maybe if this universe of ours was different. Maybe if everything was different and the sky was the ocean and the clouds were the soil. Maybe if life hadn’t engrained me with apprehension or uncertainty or a longing for some things I obviously could not have. Maybe then, we would’ve had words for each other.

People fall into each other in different ways. Some people fall together in laughter, surrounded by energy and joy. Some fall into each other in passion, unable to keep their skin from touching. But Mallory and I fell into each other slowly, gently, tentatively, like almost everything we did. We were quiet and fluid.

“You’ve got this old soul, and it’s serene and hushed and reminds me of the smell when it’s storming outside.”

Because that was all the world was to me from that point on. Mallory. With all of his troubles and his strength and his magnificence. And the imperfections that came with it.

“You don’t think what we feel towards each other is worth taking a chance on?” I asked. He paused briefly. I watched a hundred expressions flicker across his face. And then, “No.” “No?” “No.” That was all it took to break my heart. A two-letter word. Not a death in the family, not a sibling disowning me. A two-letter word from the man I loved.

“We can’t keep loving ghosts, Mallory.” And for the last time, his eyes met mine. “It’s not that easy, Archer.” “Well, I guess we’re both about to find out if it’s any easier loving one more.”

People saying that time healed all wounds was complete and utter bullshit.

And of course, just that word—heart—made me think of him. Unable to help myself, my eyes found the chair in the corner of the room I hadn’t been able to move or even touch in years. An old blanket still lay on top of it, and on its surface was dust from years passed.

“Archer.” I stood as well, my gaze fixed down on his face. “Will you ever forgive me? Can you?” A cold expression covered his once-soft features. “Why do you even want my forgiveness? You made it perfectly clear years ago that you didn’t want anything to do with me.” In a whisper, I said, “I still think of you. I still dream of you.”

I’d made a mistake letting him go. I’d known it the second I woke up the next morning.

It was difficult to admit to myself that I was trying to run into Archer again. So, when it happened, at first I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.

“Where the years have taken you.” After a brief pause, he said, “Seems they’ve brought me right back here, Mallory.” “And in between?” “A blur.”

I went to him, wrapping one arm around his waist and running the other up the back of his neck. He went rigid in my arms but I barely noticed. The moment I kissed him was the moment I realized how desperately I’d needed him. Maybe not just then. Maybe since the beginning of time.

Voice stern, accusing, he said, “You didn’t want me.”

“I will always want you, Archer.”

“Too many,” Archer said suddenly, thickness in his voice. I halted for only a heartbeat, then shoved inside him fully before asking, “Too many what?” “Men.”

I needed him to forget about any and every other person he’d ever touched. All of them but me.

“More than ten?” I asked, not wanting to know, needing to know. It didn’t matter. A hundred was too many. One was too many. I was being irrational and selfish, completely fuelled by my desire for him and my jealousy.

“Don’t bother coming after me this time, Mallory. It was last time that mattered.” Leaving me there in a million broken pieces, Archer walked out the door.

Archer Hart was anything but expected. I wondered how anyone as lovely as him could see anything worth caring for in me. But that wasn’t something I was going to dwell on. This time, I would be a smarter man and I’d thank my lucky stars each night that this beautiful, imperfect young man chose to smile at me over anyone else.

Again, I felt that soul-deep connection to him. It was an ethereal sensation of belonging and pride, like his happiness was linked to my own and mine to his.

“I feel so light. Like maybe there is a light at the end of the tunnel.” “There is.” I kissed the top of his head. “And if there isn’t, I’ll dig a way out for us. Because I’ll be wherever you are. Now and forever.”

“So that’s exactly what I’m going to continue to do. I’m going to get better and I’m going to be happy. It’s what my parents would’ve wanted for me. It’s what I want for me.”