To Soar With Wings of Light

Eruption of Cherry Red

They hadn't seen each other in a week.

After almost giving in to his desire to kiss Theodore, Valerio believed it was best to keep some distance between them for a bit. He needed time to sort through his feelings, as well as give himself the necessary push to try and dampen them too. He could only begin the process of weaning by separating himself from the equation.

Unfortunately, though, as the saying went: distance made the heart grow fonder.

Days spent away from Theodore were...

Well, they weren't peaceful at all, to be honest.

Valerio wasn't sleeping much anymore. Rampant thoughts plagued him at all hours, each one drawing back to his romantic dilemma. His mind was constantly at war with itself.

A part of him whispered, with a kind, gentle voice, that being open was the best course of action to follow. Reminders were given on the authenticity of Theodore's character—about how different he was in comparison to those who previously dragged mud along the path Valerio paved for himself. He was soothed by memories of sharing food, laughing together, and hugging. The simple concept of experiencing tranquil mundanity with someone who had a heart made of gold was, in itself, a priceless treasure.

But there was another voice too. A louder, more unhinged one whose wails drowned out consoling declarations.

That voice was firm in chanting how Theodore was clearly heterosexual. Shrieks belted toward the heavens pointed out how, even if he was interested in men, he would've made a move by now if any attraction, emotional or physical, was present. Heartbroken sobs pushed the notion that Valerio opening up about his hardships would make Theodore realize how incompatible they were.

Because Theodore was like a gorgeous, radiant sun; and Valerio acted as the dark, menacing overcast shielding all traces of warm light.

They didn't belong together.

And he had to come to terms with it.

Even so, Valerio felt horrible for falling off the face of the planet without warning.

No texts, calls, or emails had been utilized to make Theodore aware of what was going on. Meetups for dinner, movies, football games, and work out sessions stopped happening. Messages pertaining to missed ballet classes were never answered. Occasional sheepish knocks at the door were ignored with a heavy heart. 

Valerio didn't mean to act in such a way. Cutting all contact hadn't been his end goal.

He just couldn't help but hide away when the ugly, sneering face of Julianna kept popping into his head without mercy.

She kept telling him he wasn't meant to experience any form of a healthy relationship; he wasn't meant to be safe around anyone; he wasn't meant to have a happy ending.

Her declarations—they angered Valerio.

Julianna didn't have the right to continue dictating his emotions. She wasn't in charge of his heart or the choices he made. Her word wasn't supposed to mean anything more than the dirt beneath his feet.

Yet here Julianna was, in the form of a malevolent ghost, whose only objective was to cause harm.

Nearly seven months after their separation, she still had her mangled talons embedded in Valerio's person.

A continuously crumbling mental state kept him rooted in his dorm since the whole sketch-a-model-for-the-midterm ordeal. Valerio hadn't left the stale comfort of his own space for any reason: missed class assignments were handed in online, takeout was delivered to him, and groceries were ordered electronically.