This Old Heart of Mine

by A. J. Compton

  We’re ready to leave an hour later, when a timid voice talks into the microphone.

  “Thank you to everyone who has shared their work with us this evening. I’ve just been informed we have an absolute poetry legend visiting us tonight. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but the Gabriel Cruz is here.”

  A ripple of gasps and murmurs runs through the crowd, some who arrived late and hadn’t noticed Gabriel. There’s not a chance of that now, as every head in the room turns in our direction. Pausing mid-way out of my seat, I flick my wide eyes to Gabriel’s. I have a new level of empathy for the celebrities in the magazines Gia always reads. Gabriel gives the excited crowd an awkward wave.

  “For those of you who don’t know,” Gabriel’s biggest fan continues on stage, oblivious to his idol’s embarrassment, “Mr. Cruz is one of the biggest and most influential poets in the industry today. His prolific body of work is taught in colleges around the world, and has won him two Pulitzers and a Nobel Prize.”

  “If you’re ever looking for a biographer…” I murmur so only Gabriel can hear. His frozen features crack into a small smile. It eases some of my guilt at putting him in this situation.

  “It’s been a lifelong dream of mine to meet him. I-I never thought I’d get this opportunity. Let alone that he would come to my club. Um, Mr. Cruz, if you don’t mind, would you like to come up here and say a few words to all the aspiring poets here tonight, including myself?”

  The crowd erupts into applause, leaving Gabriel with no choice.

  “Now you are the one who owes me, mariposa,” he whispers in my ear as he slides out of the booth. Taking off the useless disguise glasses, he hands them to me. His eyes twinkle with salacious promise before he kisses me and walks up on stage.

  He shakes his star-struck fan’s hand and then addresses the now silent crowd. Everyone seems to hold a collective breath and lean in as they wait for his words. I guess I’m not the only one he has that effect on.

  “Hello, everyone. I feel I should have prepared a speech, no? I’d like to thank…” he jokes, making the crowd laugh. Pride surges through me as he talks to the group about finding their voices and staying true to them.

  His eyes land on me, and even from this distance, they tell me things I’m longing to hear. My heart absorbs that look, keeping it safe until it’s ready to be joined by the matching words.

  Gabriel holds the crowd in the palm of his hand. Will he ever stop surprising me? Just when I think I’m starting to work him out, he reveals another hidden layer of himself. It’s taken the five months since we met for me to reach this far, I wonder how deep into him I’d get in a lifetime?

  “I once told a little girl that the difference between a poet and a writer, was that a poet’s stories came from the heart.” My heart melts when I realize he’s talking about Isabella. “And that’s the same advice I’m giving to you. Write from your heart, not your head. It won’t make your poems good.” Everyone laughs. “But it will make them true. If I’ve learned anything over my career, it’s that truth is the language of the soul. And people read poetry with their souls, not their eyes. Thank you.”

  The eclectic crowd surges to its feet as Gabriel finishes his impromptu speech. I’d thought it would just be twenty-year-old hipsters here tonight, but I was wrong. The club is packed with a beautiful mix of ages, races, and faces, all brought together by their ability to be moved by words. I’m moved by one man. The same man who searches for me in the sea of unfamiliar people. The smile when he finds me tells me everything I need to know.

  I start to make my way to Gabriel, wanting nothing more than to throw myself in his arms, when his fan starts speaking again. I freeze. Sharp needles prick my spine as I watch the smile slip from Gabriel’s face.

  “Would you be willing to read us one of your famous poems, Mr. Cruz? Or maybe even some of your new stuff you’re working on now?”

  My stomach clenches when Gabriel’s eyes cloud with shadows. His face hardens. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, come on,” the guy pushes. “Just one. I know everyone would love to hear it, right?” he recruits the crowd, who begin clapping and chanting like a mob.

  I may not know the reasons why, but I know Gabriel’s poetry is a sensitive topic for him. Cursing under my breath, I push my way through the strangers, trying to reach him and get us out of there.

  “I don’t have any new material.”

  “Well, one of the old ones then. You have so many to choose from. Please, Mr. Cruz. It would be such an honor. An unforgettable experience for everyone here tonight.”

  Gabriel’s jaw flexes as he looks out into the crowd. I’ve moved from the spot where I was standing before, so it takes him a moment to find me. His tense features study my face, looking for what, I don’t know. I try my best to communicate that I’ll do whatever he wants. I may not always understand him, but I support him.

  He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath. Letting his hand fall away, he grimaces. “One poem.”

  The crowd cheers, while my stomach sinks. I want to see it as a victory, but the emptiness in Gabriel’s eyes makes it feel like a loss. As everyone takes their seats, I stay standing in the center of the room. I hope I can be Gabriel’s beacon of light in the darkness that has overshadowed the evening. His unwavering focus on me makes me think I might just be.

  He holds the mic and takes a deep breath. The room is so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. “This poem is called ‘You Are The Sun.’”

  My heart stops before thumping hard against my ribs. I know that poem. I’ve fallen asleep to that poem. And I think I even started falling in love because of that poem. It’s the second in the 50 Ways to Say ‘I Love You’ collection, and one I’ve re-read many times since.

  Gabriel’s eyes fill with anguish as he begins to speak in a hoarse voice.

  “I told you once,

  That you were the rain,

  That fell upon my skin,

  And enabled me to drown in droplets of you.

  “But I never told you, love,

  That you are also the sun,

  That shines upon my soul,

  And warms the cold, secret spaces,

  Where I hide all my flaws.

  “In bringing them to light,

  You brought me to life.

  And so I crowned you Queen of the skies,

  And made myself Icarus,

  So that I could fly close to you,

  My destiny and demise.

  “You, my love, are light.

  And I,

  Am nothing but a fool in love,

  Who dares to dream,

  He can capture sunshine with his hands,

  And hold it in his heart,

  Without getting burned.”

  From the moment he started talking, the crowd melted away until it was just him and me in the room. The air crackles with us. Gabriel’s glistening eyes didn’t move from mine once as he spoke.

  I didn’t know him when he wrote it. This poem belongs to a past we don’t share and never will.

  But the connection that pulses between us makes me think that maybe the future could be ours.

  Finn has been in a strange mood in the last couple of days, so I’ve taken him to Fisherman’s Wharf to try to bring him out of whatever’s wrong. So far, we’ve raced each other along the pier on Segways, stuffed our faces with seafood and ice cream, played arcade games, and he’s still not back to his usual self.

  Thinking that maybe he just needs some space and quiet time, I suggest a walk along the water to burn off our sugar high. With my arm linked through his, the wind whips my hair in every direction and I wrap my jacket tighter around myself.

  I’m used to comfortable silence with Gabriel, but with Finn, it’s weird. I don’t like it. He sighs at the sea, and in it, I hear the weight of the world.

  Leaving him to his thoughts for a moment, my mind drifts to Gabriel like it always doe
s these days. I haven’t been able to get the intense moment at the poetry club last weekend out of my head. Something shifted that night.

  On the surface, things are still the same. But now, we run each morning with only a sliver of space between us. His eyes focus on my mouth whenever I talk, as if every word is precious. And I’ve memorized every line and groove of his face in such detail, that I see them in my dreams.

  Our kisses are different, too. It’s as if we’re not just connecting our lips, but our hearts. Ugh. We’re becoming so in sync that he’s even got me thinking in poetry.

  Mirroring Finn, I look out at the endless ocean. All of a sudden, the truth floods over me. I read in a book once that the person who comes to mind when you’re standing in front of the sea is the person you’re in love with.

  I’m in love with Gabriel. Not just his words, or his potential. But every complicated, poetic part of him.

  “Are you okay?” Finn asks me.

  “Y-yeah. Why?”

  “Because you gasped and then squeezed my arm like a lemon. I know my muscles are firm and juicy, Ave, but seriously.”

  I look down to my vice-like grip on his body and release him. “Oh.”

  He shakes out his arm before placing it around my shoulders. “I think you almost cut off my blood supply.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. What was so interesting about the ocean to cause that reaction?”

  It takes several deep breaths before I can get the words out. “I think I’m in love with Gabriel.”

  Finn snorts. “Um, yeah. You have been for a while. Seems like you’re the last to know.”

  I punch his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Ow! Stop attacking me. I thought you knew.”

  “I didn’t. Well, I guess I knew I was falling, but I didn’t realize I’d landed.”

  “The gooey eyes you make at each other weren’t enough of a clue?”

  “Shut up. I do not make gooey eyes.”

  “You do.” To illustrate his point, he bats his eyelashes. “Oh, Gabriel. You’re so smart and funny. Let’s get married.”

  “Stop it! I do not sound like that.”

  He laughs. “You do. But it’s okay because he does, too. Well, not as girly, but just as sappy. You’re not the only one who’s landed in love.”

  “You think?”

  He rolls his eyes. “I guess love really does make you blind. The only reason I accept the guy is because he looks at you like you’re his world. I wouldn’t let you settle for less.”

  “Finn.” I hug his waist. “I’m scared.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve never been in love before. I mean, I love you, and mom, and—”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “But this love is different. There are different rules for it. And I have no idea what I’m doing. How do I even know this is love? I have nothing to compare it to.”

  “For once, I don’t have the answer. I’m counting on you to work it out and report back to me.”

  We both look back out at the sea. “Your perfect girl is out there somewhere. I know she is.” Maybe we’d find her if we followed the horizon.

  “We’re talking about you, not me. Nice try.”

  I sigh. “Love doesn’t feel anything like I thought it would.”

  “What did you think it would be like?” he asks, bemused.

  “I don’t know. Sunshine, butterflies, and rainbows, I guess. The stuff all those books and movies tell you about.”

  Finn clicks his tongue. “I told you reading was dangerous.”

  He laughs and ducks when I shove him. “I’m serious. Love is scary as hell. I feel like someone pushed me off a cliff and I was swept away in the tide.”

  He shudders. “Why would anyone want to experience that? You’re not exactly selling it to me, Ave.”

  “Because the good parts make all the vulnerability worth it. It’s like childbirth, you know?”

  “Um, no. And I never want to.”

  “They say your body forgets the pain after your baby arrives. That the miracle of having a child makes it all worth it. From what I can tell, love is similar. When it’s right, the pleasure is worth the pain.”

  “TMI, Ave. Way too much information.”

  “Oh, my God. I’m not talking about that.”

  He chuckles. “I know. It’s just so much fun to see you get red and flustered.”

  I stick out my tongue. “Love you, too, Finn.”

  “Ah, you can say it to me easily, but the question is when are you going to tell Gabriel?”

  Anxiety swirls in my stomach. “I can’t.”

  “So let me get this straight. You love him.” I nod. “But you’re not going to tell him?” I shake my head. Finn laughs. “So you’re just going to love him in secret?”

  Finn’s words make me think of a line in one of Gabriel’s favorite Pablo Neruda poems: “I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”

  I’ve been reading the works of Gabriel’s favorite poet since he mentioned that Pablo Neruda is the reason he started to write. And I can see why. I couldn’t have put it better myself. My love for Gabriel sits right in between those spaces, just waiting for a moment to be brought to light. “I need to know it isn’t one-sided. That I’m not the only one drowning. I want him to say it first.”

  I roll my eyes when Finn starts making chicken noises. “You’re the bravest woman I know, Malone. You took on life and won. Why can’t you do the same with love?”

  I think about Finn’s question as we continue to walk along the pier. The answer continues to elude me. Directing us to a railing overlooking the ocean, I stop and sit up on it. Finn does the same. I tie my wayward hair up into a ponytail and face him.

  “Enough about me. Are you okay? You’ve seemed so distant over the past few weeks.”

  A secret smile tugs at his lips. “I should have known nothing gets past you.”

  I laugh. “You should. Are you ready to talk about it, yet?”

  Finn breathes out and twists his body to face me. “Yeah. I think I am.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I want to find out about my donor,” he says in a rush.

  “You do?” Of all the things I thought might be bothering him, this hadn’t crossed my mind.

  “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it for ages, but I’ve finally decided to do something about it. I can’t explain it, but it feels like there’s something missing. Without any kind of knowledge, I feel incomplete.”

  “I can understand that. You know you have my unconditional support, whatever you decide. You have to do what’s right for you.”

  “Is it right for me though? What if it ends up doing more harm than good?”

  “What do you mean?”

  His fingers drum a restless rhythm on the metal bar. “What if I don’t find the answers I’m looking for? Or worse, what if I find them and they aren’t the answers I wanted?”

  “Well, what answers do you want?”

  Leaning forward, he sighs and braces his elbows on his thighs. “I don’t know.”

  I can tell he does, so I push. “Sure you do.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s stupid.”

  I rub his back. “This situation is a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. It’s me, Finn. You know you can tell me anything.”

  He looks at me over his shoulder and straightens. Shifting his weight, he sighs. “I know. I guess I just want to know that he was a good person. One of my worst fears is that I have part of someone evil inside of me. I don’t know how I would deal with that.”

  “That’s understandable. But even if he wasn’t a good person, you are.”

  “Am I?” he asks, vulnerability coloring his voice blue.

  “Stop fishing for compliments,” I tease. “You’re one of the best people I know. Regardless of whose lungs you have, that’s never changed.”

  “Back at you,
doll face.”

  I link my arms with his and lean my head on his shoulder. “Why now?” I ask over the sound of the sea.

  My head lifts when he shrugs. “Because I don’t think I can ignore it any longer. Pretending you aren’t afraid doesn’t make the fear disappear. It only grows bigger and stronger. I’m tired of feeding the monsters under the bed. I’ve realized that the only way to defeat them is to face them.”

  I smile at the metaphor he’s chosen. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Will you help me? You know, if the family wants to hear from me?”

  I raise my head and kiss his cheek. “You don’t even have to ask.”

  I never asked Finn what he wrote in his letter to his donor’s parents when he first reached out to them last month. Nor did I ask what they wrote back to him. Some things should stay private, even between soul mates. But whatever was said had the two sides arranging to meet in person.

  I turn my head from the open car window, enjoying the wind caressing my hair and face. The stunning California landscape whizzes past. Rolling green hills melt into the deep blue sea, only to rise up into wide-open plains.

  I rest my hand on Finn’s jittering knee. “You okay?” I have to ask the question several times before he answers.

  “Huh?”

  “I asked if you were okay.”

  “Oh. No. I’m so nervous my palms are sweating all over this steering wheel.”

  “Do you want me to drive?”

  “No. I need to do something with my hands; otherwise, I’m going to pull my hair out.”

  “I thought this was what you wanted. Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No. I do want this. I’m just terrified.”

  “What’s scaring you most?”

  “Where do I start? What if they’re awful people? Or worse, what if their son was an awful person? What if they think I’m an awful person? What if—”

  “Finn. Stop. Breathe. Use those new lungs you’ve been given.”

  When his breathing steadies, his lips twist up. “Ironic, huh?”

  “Seems fitting.”