Angelo by Me



  She swims without hesitation. She doesn't know I'm watching her. She'd be angry with me, if she knew I were here. . . But she doesn't. For now, just a few moments, I can watch her when she thinks no one is looking. She isn't really doing anything, she only swims around the lake. Her movements are graceful, fluid motions. Lovely to watch.

  I want to tell her. I want to explain myself, my departure, my return. But in order to explain in part, I must explain in whole. I'm not ready to do that yet. I feel hypocritical in saying that. If I'm ready to give myself to her completely, ready to marry the chica, why do I insist on keeping this from her? I know she'll find out, I know, I know, I know. But I wish she'd never know.

  I want to present myself to her. I want to say she's the only one, to say I've loved no other. But I can't. . . I never loved Torres, I thought I did. I told myself I loved her every day, until I was convinced of it. Even years after I left her, I thought I loved her. Even when I first met Summer, I kept saying, "You first loved Torres, you'll never love anyone the same way."

  Slowly I came to see just how wrong I was. I came to see I never loved anyone until I loved my Summer. Huh. My Summer. I guess that's it then, I want her for myself. Mine. I like the sound of that. . . but I realized what I felt for Torres was a lust, I wanted her body, I wanted someone warm and soft beside me when I woke up. I wanted someone with good aim to back me up when things got rough. I didn't love her. But Summer. . .

  I've lost myself in her. I love it when we stay up 'till obscure hours talking. And not talking about nothing, not just babbling, but really talking. About real things, not movies or television, but of morals and people and issues and ideas. She's helped me grow so much, helped me understand so much. She stretches my mind and I want her for all of her. Not just her body, but her heart and soul and everything she is. I want her . Entirely.

  I have to ask her to marry me.

  But I can't hide my past from her, I can't hide Torres, I can't hide Los Angeles. But it's going to be so hard, so damn hard to tell her. No, Summer, when we- look, there I assume it will happen- sleep together for the first time, when you expose yourself to me, when you offer yourself as a gift and when I greedily take that gift for myself, I'm giving you myself as well. But you're not the first, you're not the first to have me. I've already taken someone and now I want to take you. I've already given myself, but now I want you to have me as well.

  Damn! Why why why why why? I love her so much it hurts! Look at me, I can't even hold myself together! The one thing I could have given her, I've already given away. I don't want to admit that to her, I want Summer to think I'm all hers. But I can't. I can't feed her so great a lie. I can't ask her to be my wife without telling her. I can't tell her without asking her to be my wife, if I tell her it's because that's the one things I have left to give: the truth.

  How can I ask her to marry me and in the same breath tell her I've been with someone else? With anyone else, she might have assumed my past, but because of who I am, I managed to hide this from her the entire time we've been together. She knows I've always been a loner, and I never needed to say how easily I repulsed others before I got my powers under control. It is easy for her to believe I have never been intimate with anyone. But I've got to tell, her. . . but how? I'll wait. I have to.

  I'll wait 'till I know. If she won't be my wife, why tell her? Once she says she'll be mine forever, then I'll tell her. Then, when I know her heart, I know she's mine, I'll tell her. It's almost like a promise she won't leave me. "I'll marry you. I'll take you for who you are, all of you, past, present, and future." I'll wait. I'll wait.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. I look to my right. It's Jonothon. He's walking to the lake where Summer swims. He says nothing to her, just walks right up to the water's edge and takes a seat on a smooth boulder. She pays little notice to him, just swims on. Is she ignoring him? Does his presence bother her? Sometimes I really can't believe Jonothon. He's mi amigo mejor, but I don't understand him. Just waltzing up, breaking her reverie and staring. She's probably hoping he'll just go away, if she doesn't acknowledge him, he'll leave.

  It makes me mad that he watches her. I don't own her, but I feel that she's mine. Her hands are the ones that touch me with love, not with disgust or fear. Her lips are the ones I press my own against. I feel excessively possessive of her. I don't like the thought of him seeing her so bare. I know she is beautiful. My body responds to her beauty. I know Jonothon, I know he sees her beauty. I don't like imagining him responding to her beauty in the same way I do.

  Now she stops swimming. She wades to where Jonothon is. He extends a hand to her and helps her from the water, she stands. And for one instant, she's liquid ice: shimmering, flowing, catching the light and moving gracefully. Then she's fully human, no longer wet. She stands there before him, saying something. Now the little curls that fall from her shoulders bounce as she shakes her head, "no." She pushes him away. They talk for a while longer before she turns from him and walks a few paces. His eyes linger as she walks away.

  I try not to become angry. He's only human, he doesn't know I'm here. . . Lord knows I've looked at Paige the same way. I can't hold it against him. He probably just wanted to tell her something, and whatever it was she said no. I don't even have to know what he asked, she said no. I trust her. I saw her while she thought she was alone. She didn't make a single move toward Jonothon.

  I hurry from the Biosphere, leaving the back way so no one will know I was here.