A Conventional Love Story

Excerpt from a philosophical text:

“Love exists in three forms – Familial, Platonic and (that most coveted quantity) True.

Familial Love is felt for parents, siblings (both blood and non-blood), children and child-partners as well as other, more distant, relatives. Platonic Love is felt for friends. These two forms are closely related, they are the bond we share with those who shape our lives in our early years and then into adulthood. Both are mere shadows compared to True Love.

True Love has inspired a million stories and is what drives the majority of the human race. It can only exist between two adult men or two adult women, it is the bond we share with our life-partner.

There are some who posit that True Love can exist between any two (non-blood related) adults. This is nonsense – the biological chemistry of men and women differs too much for such a state to exist.”

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Alex and Sam grow up on the same street. They play together in school, best friends ever since nursery when they run into each other in the playground, smile bashfully and shake hands to introduce themselves. They spend Saturdays at one of their houses, falling asleep in front of movies so that, more often than not, their parents can’t bear to wake them and send one home. As a consequence half of Alex’s stuff is at Sam’s house and vice versa.

There’s a few months when they start secondary school, are put in different classes and feel that this should mean they grow apart.

This ends when Alex stops a bully trying to knock Sam’s glasses off. The two boys smile at each other and shake hands before walking off arm in arm.

When they enter puberty they giggle about the Sex Ed lessons and watch in disinterest as their peers become obsessed with crushes and dating. They already have each other to hold hands and watch movies with, why would they want to do that with anyone else?

They’re fifteen and lying side by side on Sam’s bed, studying in comfortable silence when Alex leans over to kiss the other boy’s cheek. He immediately blushes as Sam shoots a quizzical look at him before smiling and kissing Alex properly.

They tell their families a few days later. The news is met with knowing nods and no one’s surprise.

Their weekends of studying and watching movies are supplemented by proper dates but not much else changes. After all, they’ve been in love ever since they were kids, they just hadn’t realised.

To everyone’s surprise they go to different universities, an hour away from each other, Sam studying Maths and Alex studying the sciences. They stay together via Skype and visiting each other every Sunday. They break up for two weeks in their second year when Sam gets jealous of Alex’s roommate flirting with him and Alex playing along because Sam has been distracted by work. Sam drives to Alex’s mid-week with flowers and a promise ring when missing him becomes too much. The separation takes away their complacency and serves to confirm that they wouldn’t want to spend the rest of their lives with anyone else.

They graduate and move into a tiny flat near their families. It’s not easy. Obviously. Alex doesn’t earn much as a teacher yet and Sam still works too hard. Alex provides distractions for Sam when he spends too much time working, much the same as he did during school. Most of all, they’ve got each other and their plans for the future; someone to come home to, something to work for.

Less than a year later, on the anniversary of their first date, they go out for dinner. Halfway through Alex fumbles in his pocket and draws out a ring box. Before he can get the question out, Sam starts laughing. At Alex’s bemused, and slightly hurt, expression he just draws out a ring box from his own pocket and holds it out.

They get married six months later, surrounded by family and close friends. Sam’s best friend and university roommate proposes to her girlfriend at the reception and during the preparations for that wedding they discuss the future and children, laying the foundation for the four of them moving in together and their future family.

When their siblings come out as a Het couple Sam, always fiercely protective of his little sister, accepts them immediately. Alex struggles to reconcile his love for his brother and the public image of Hets. Sam convinces him to go for dinner at their house and when he sees the two of them together, comforting and steadying each other and so blatantly in love, he offers his congratulations and support wholeheartedly. In the years to come he volunteers to teach Sex Ed at his school so he can include the Het information where most teachers wouldn’t bother.

The years pass by – a kaleidoscope of family holidays, birthdays and festival days, weekend walks and picnics, milestones and the quirks of their daily routines. Their kids grow up and move out one by one.

When they retire the four of them move to a smaller house, near to their eldest and their first grandchildren. They still go out on dates, they still curl up together in front of movies, they spend evenings sitting next to each other reading and listening to music. Just the same as when they were teenagers.

When Alex dies, aged 85, it’s in a hospital bed after a short illness. The day’s visitors have left, Sam remains seated next to him. Their fingers are interlocked as they sit in comfortable silence, occasionally reminiscing on their life together. Alex drifts off to sleep with “I love you” on his lips as Sam watches. When he stops breathing Sam kisses his cheek and doesn’t let go of his hand until the nurse comes in.

He doesn’t cry until he gets home and the absence of Alex hits him. He wanders round the house for a few hours, remembering, thinking, before drying his eyes and greeting their family.

Despite their preparation and Sam surrounding himself with their family he never quite gets used to Alex’s absence before his death four years later. They’d spent the vast majority of their lives together, grown up and changed as one. He could barely remember a time without Alex’s comforting presence and not having that any more stung. But he could look at his children – markers of their shared time – and feel proud and contented.

And when he closed his eyes in his own hospital bed he saw the curly haired boy in the playground and half-felt the firm grip of Alex’s right hand in his own.