I don't know what love is. But these bruises and cuts, they burn against my skin. Each word, each laugh, makes me dream of falling. The world sank it's teeth into my neck a long time ago, when I was still young. Now, the pain is at its peak, and my body, or at least what's left of it, is near its limit. That's why I close my eyes.

She hit me again.

***

I walked through the night with my hand in my pockets and my head facing the sidewalk. The concrete was cracked and worn, small patches of grass growing up and out of the tiny fissures. My feet brushed by the green blades and made my toes itch. I don't like wearing shoes, especially not outside. Something about them just never felt natural to me. Overhead, dark clouds gathered in the deep blue of the sky. Stars broke out in small scatters of white dots where the clouds had yet to cover. The night was getting ready to cry.

My eyes stung, too dry to let out any more pain. I could feel the stinging, the bruises on my legs. They cried out with each footfall. But I had to keep going. Gentle flows of wind whispered to the cuts on my face and arms. It told them to burn. The green t-shirt I put on that morning was tattered from the fight, so all the cold rushed right in. I must have looked homeless, clothes torn and dirty, shoulders slumped. All I needed now was a jar to collect change.

I kept a slow pace down the sidewalk, fading in and out of existence with each streetlight I passed. Still, I stayed at the edges of the dirty yellow glow. I preferred the dark to the light, at least there I wouldn't be seen. I rounded the next corner and took a step into the street. The sidewalk had ended. Though my gaze remained low, I did glance at the houses around me, and I wondered about inside them. I wondered if any kids lived there, if they liked it there, or if they wish they could leave.

It didn't feel wrong to sneak out of the house. I knew the punishment for it, yes, I knew it well.  Come morning mother would have me chained by the throat. But I did feel lost. I wasn't used to being on my own and having to think so much. That's what the house was for. Mother had rules to follow so you didn't have to wonder about anything. Just follow the rules, be a good kid, score well on tests, all of that high school crap. I never was good at following rules, that's what got me here in the first place.

I shook my head and looked up from the sidewalk, finally becoming aware of my surroundings again. There, only a few steps away, was the playground. Hazy silhouettes of slides, steps, and bridges stuck from the dusty coloured mulch, just like when I was smaller, more carefree. Everything was there, only now, it was all lifeless, grey, a cemetery of memories. I sighed. Those happier days were gone.

My attention turned to the far side of the playground, towards the swings. There was colour there, light, a kid, a boy, my age, dressed in a pure white shirt and shorts coloured just the same. He sat still on the swing, waiting. Mason. I smiled at him, something I hadn't done for anyone in weeks. He was really here.

My legs, though they ached, moved faster. My heart was filled with pain, but its beat hastened anyway.

He must have heard my steps, or the shuffling of the chips below. God, I was such a mess he could have heard my breathing from yards away. Or maybe, maybe he just knew. Mason stood and rushed towards me. Time moved fast, and I was in his arms, crying. After all the cold, all the pain, he was finally here again. I was finally warm.

We stayed there for few minutes. I was lost in his arms, his touch. In that moment, all I wanted was to hold him forever. All my life, I had seen stuff like this in movies, manufactured romance. I never thought it could be real for me, and I was right. Right there, with him, was better than any movie ever could, or will be. This was real, our hug was real. And that feeling inside of just, for once in my life, being comfortable: it was infinite

But the hug had to end. The good stuff like hugs always do. At first, he was silent as he looked at my face, at all the scrapes and bruises. I turned my attention over his shoulder and looked off into the nothing. I never wanted anyone to see me like this, not even him. The tears were coming back.

Something warm brushed against my cheek and wiped away the droplets. His hand.

“Connor, you don't have to hide your face, not anymore." He ran his fingers along my cheek and into my hair.

I sniffled and looked back at him, into his eyes. They were gentle green, a green that always seemed to fade in and out. I loved his eyes; they reminded me of my own. “Mason," I swallowed hard. “I don't know what to do anymore."

Mason frowned. “What she does to you, it's just, it's not right. I understand she doesn't like you being different, but you don't deserve this, nobody does." He slipped his free hand into my own and gave it a light squeeze, turning his gaze away before he spoke again. “I'm so sorry, Connor. This is my fault. I told you things would be fine."

My eyes teared up again. “You're right. You told me everything would be fine, and everything is." I placed my fingers beneath his chin and lifted his head. “As long as I have you, Mason, I will always be alright. The pain, the tears, they don't matter to me. It's such a small price to pay for you."

Mason cocked his head slightly, a smile forming in the corners of his mouth. “It's funny. You're the one all beaten down and you're cheering me up." Though he looked happy, the pain in his eyes was still clear. He was worried for me.

With his hand in mine, I guided him over to a nearby bench and sat down. I closed my eyes and smiled as I helped him up onto my lap, his face still towards me. “Do you mind if I tell you a story?"

“Of course," Mason rested his head against mine. “I love your stories."

I giggled a little, the high pitched kind that I could never do at home. “When I was little, there was a dream I used to have over and over again. I'm not sure I completely understood it until I met you." Mason gave his head a silent nod, so I went on. “In the dream, I would be on a big white cloud. I was so high up, that the world below me blurred together. And on that cloud, was a giant gate of silver. I never did like gold. The gates were always open, so I would always walk through. The other side was beautiful, Mason, I wish you could have dreamt it with me. The world beyond those gates was green and full of trees, lakes, flowers, everything that made nature pretty, it was all there. But even with all that, I still felt sad in those dreams, like something was missing."

I paused there for a moment and watched. Mason stared at me, astonished, breathless, shocked. Those lovely eyes of his, they were near tears. He wrapped his arms around me and trembled at the words. “You were missing me."

I had nothing left to say. I didn't want to lose the power of that moment with more words. So I didn't say a thing. All the feelings I'd been hiding for weeks, all the love I felt for him I wasn't able to show, it all came out when I leaned in. Right there, in the dark of the park, I pressed my lips to his. That sensation, it was real bliss, just as I remembered it. His kiss was happiness, the kind I could never tell someone else about, because those thoughts lived in my head solely for him.

We broke apart slowly, and Mason stared at me, his mouth hanging slightly open. It was so dark, so hard to see him, but I still knew he looked cute.

Mason slid off of my lap and stood up. It was that time again, I knew it was coming, I just didn't want to think about it. Time for me to go back home, to that place. He offered me his hand. “Please, come home with me."

“Mason, you know I can't. Your parents will tell her. I can't get away." The burning in my eyes came back. I had nothing left to cry with.

“No, we aren't going to my house. We're leaving."

“We can't." My leg started to shake, my breaths didn't fill me with enough air. I hated feeling like this. “There's nowhere for the two of us to go."

Mason leaned in close and took my hand himself. His eyes, they weren't the same as before. They weren't sad at all. He left a soft kiss on my forehead. “Let's go. I'll make a place for us to go, somewhere far away. A place without all of the worries, without all of the pain. Run away with me, Connor. You are my place to go."

I didn't say a word, I wasn't sure what I could say, but he could read my eyes better than anyone. And my eyes said yes. He helped me to my feet and guided me away from the park. We walked down the road, then down a few more roads. We walked until we forgot where we were, but we were never lost. It didn't matter where we went, so long as we went with each other. The world watched us go, and the sky started to cry.

I know what love is. This feeling, here with him, is love. My cuts have closed up, my bruised healed. I was done falling.