Not Supposed To Know Me

He reaches towards me, hand open. I place mine in his and we seem to collapse in a heap of limbs on the couch. His hand is rough, but it’s a nice feeling, because I know where he’s gotten those calluses. They’ve developed over the time we’ve known each other – some from helping me get through the little things in life, and some from more serious moments. He’s in a half sitting position, his back against the side of the lounge, his free arm cradling my head. I’m looking at him, wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans. His black hair is dangling in one of his greeny-brown eyes, and he’s smiling. It’s not one of those smiles that come across as overwhelming – a little too wide, or a bit too bright. It’s a smile that is filled with love and appreciation. I’ve only ever seen it now.

“You know what I wish?” he asks. His hand moves from my head to the back of my sweatshirt. “That we could be like this freely. No more sneaking around. No more hiding.” It’s dark, the room we’re in. The only light is coming from a lamp next to the couch. The sad thing is, I could stay like this the whole evening. The two of us come here sometimes – you know, when we feel like we need to escape. It’s Owen’s parents’ rental house. They never come here, unless they’re celebrating an anniversary, or… Well, that won’t be happening anymore, anyway. They got divorced two years ago.

“I know,” I say. “But it’s too risky. You know how my parents feel about your family’s situation. They would never approve.” He looks away from me, his eyes full of dismay. However, I can’t look anywhere but at him. At his face that I’ve gotten to know so well. He’s just a year older than me, but I feel so safe with him. He protects me.

“Hey,” I say. “It’ll be okay. We can enjoy these moments with each other, yeah? Even though it’s not perfect, we love each other, and that’s all that matters.” I hear the words that are coming out of my mouth, and they sound sickeningly sweet. I almost want to take them back because I know they’re not one hundred percent true. We’ll never fully be able to enjoy this time with each other because we can’t be normal. When we see those couples out on the street holding hands, all we’ll be able to do is look at each other from a distance and know that we have to do that in private. When we see a man proposing to his girlfriend in a restaurant during one of our family dinners, all we can do is stare at each other from across the table and know we’ll never be able to have that. I’ll never be able to marry Owen.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says. “We can enjoy the time we have together.” His hand is still on my back; a reassurance that he’ll always be there for me. I bury my head into his chest and inhale. He smells like a burning campfire, and new grass growing after a hot summer all at the same time. It’s true, what I said before. My family would never let me be with Owen. Not after his dad ended up in jail. They barely wanted the two of us to be friends before I came home and told them I’d met him for the first time. To think our families were really close once… I can’t imagine it.