I had the most delightful dream that night. I dreamt that I was a young boy again. The pain in my back was gone, nonexistent.

In front of me stood my old mare, shaking her head to flick her mane back and forth to swat away some pesky flies. It was just after noon, the sun high overhead, highlighting the beautiful crisp blue of the skies above. Fluffy white clouds like cotton candy lazily carried themselves towards the mountains on the wind’s gentle breath.

The next thing I knew, I was mounted on the back of the horse, reins in my hands, my feet tucked into the metal stirrups.

It was incredibly quiet in my dream. Even though I could feel the breeze on my face, I couldn’t hear it rush past my ears. I could only hear the gentle trotting of my mare as we rode together down the gravel path towards Stanton Farms.

I had travelled this path many times when I was a child, using it to visit Danny every day after school. We would play tag by the creek, or hide and seek in the wooded area just behind the barn.

The gravel path suddenly disappeared, and I was left alone with my mare in a formless, shapeless setting. We were surrounded by the dark, but I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t lost. I was confident that if I continued forward with my trusty steed, that I would make it to see Danny in no time. I just had to set my sights straight ahead.

The mare and I continued along an invisible line, our attention drawn to the soft sobbing of a young boy. As we drew nearer, I recognized the boy in my dream.

It was Danny, but it didn’t quite look like the Danny of my childhood. He was a little older, a teenager, dressed in a striped shirt and khaki shorts. I dreamt that he was cowering beneath the shade of a tall bush, knees tucked to his chest, hiding his face in his lap as he sniffled.

I tried calling out to him, but he couldn’t hear me. There were bruises all over his arms and legs. When he finally looked up, I could see the mottled purple skin around his left eye. It was swollen and painful, his nose dripping with tears and mucous.

I wanted to get down from my horse and go to him, a sudden urge willing me forward. I reached out to him, but when I looked down at my hand, I realized that I was no longer a boy. I was a man now, in a fancy suit and tie. My mare had disappeared entirely, vanishing without a trace.

When I returned my attention to the crying boy, he had also transformed. It was Danny, the man I’d met just days ago. He stood tall, face cold and expressionless.

I dreamt he had his back towards me, facing in the direction of Stanton Farms. It looked like he was frozen in place, longing to take a step forward to return to his family, but unable to make the first move.

I reached out in my dream and took his hand. Danny looked at me and smiled, handsome and gentle eyes regarding me with so much tenderness I wanted to burst into tears. He brought the pad of his thumb up to my cheek, kissing the tears away.

But the dream then took a sharp turn left. Before I could figure out what had happened, I was on top of him, pinning both his arms down just above his head by his wrists.

I wanted him. I wanted him badly. I had to show him that he was mine, and I was his.

In my dream, I showered him with all my attention. I kissed him hard enough to make him dizzy. I had my way with him, sending him over the edge again and again. When I brought my fingers up to his mouth to hush him, he licked the tips of my fingers and regarded me with trusting eyes.

And then it all fell apart.

Danny wasn’t there anymore, and I was strapped to the seat of my wheelchair. The cold metal burned my skin, my back was on fire, and my legs were full of pins and needles.

Panic set in. I tried to breathe, but I was stuck in a vacuum. I tried to scream out for help, but the louder I got, the more pain I was in.

I woke up with a bit of a start, the front of my pajama bottoms a little tight, and glanced at the alarm clock that rested on the bedside table. The neon-green digits read 6:24 AM.

Thomas was snoring loudly in the other motel bed, an eye mask pulled down low and a half-eaten bag of chips at the end of his bed. The TV was still on, sports bloopers playing on the screen with the volume muted. I came to the conclusion that he must have stayed up pretty late.

I threw my covers off and wandered my way through the dark motel room until I found the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, I flicked the switch, flooding the room with light. I squinted against the sudden brightness, rubbing the inside corners of my eyes to rid them of sleep.

Breathing slowly, doing my best to calm down, I turned on the tap and splashed cold water on my face before I looked at my reflection in the mirror, swallowing hard.

I wanted to see Danny again, to be graced with his comforting warmth. I’d had no idea how bad things had become for him since I’d left. No wonder he seemed so different now. The carefree, wild little boy I’d grown up with was gone by necessity.

I brushed my teeth and washed my face before exiting the bathroom again. I needed to see him. I needed hear his voice again.

Every step I took, every move I made, I was bewitched by the memory of Danny’s touch. His hands holding mine, his fingers caressing my chest and stomach, his mouth kissing the tender skin of my neck, his face close to mine as he smelled my hair. He hadn’t given me a straight answer yesterday when I asked if he regretted sleeping with me.

A part of me was worried about finding out the truth, but the other half of me desperately wanted to know. It was obvious he hadn’t forgiven himself, was hard on himself because of who he was and who he liked. It just didn’t seem fair.

But if he hated himself for the simple fact of being gay, could we ever become more? Was that even possible? If we wound up together, would he just come to resent me because I was a man –- an obstacle –- keeping him from his family?

I needed to know. I needed to hear his answer.

Before I left, Thomas’ car keys safely stowed away in my pocket, I popped two painkillers into my mouth and swallowed them dry. I scribbled a little note on the motel-provided pad of paper by the phone for Thomas, letting him know that I was stepping out for a bit.

Then I got in the car and drove, nearly missing the turn on the dirt road that took me straight to Breakaway Ranch. It was only seven in the morning, but the sky was still dark as the short days of winter began to threaten their return.

I drove up to Danny’s house and parked the car just behind his truck. I could tell by the soft light that streamed out through the gap in the curtains that he was home. I got out of the car, shivering against the chilly morning air, and made my way up the wooden steps of his front porch. I knocked on the door three times. I could hear footfalls on the other side of the door, the wood foundation of the house creaking. Danny opened the door, a puzzled expression on his face.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. He didn’t say it to be rude, he was just genuinely curious. He opened the door wide and let me in, closing the door quickly behind me.

The house smelled wonderful, like a fresh pot of coffee, bacon, and pancakes. Danny must have just had breakfast. He was dressed and ready for the day, probably on his way to take care of his horse. The inside of the house was warm and familiar, my shivering eventually ceasing.

“What am I to you?” I asked, serious.

“What?”

“What am I to you?” I repeated. “What do you want out of this relationship?”

“I–-” Danny stumbled. He looked as confused as I felt. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I admitted. I glared at a spot on the floor, not brave enough to look him in the eye as I confessed. Oh God, I was doing this. I was really doing this.

“It’s driving me crazy, actually. I can’t get you out of my head and I wanted to know what you expect out of all this.”

“Jacob, I…” his voice trailed off, unable to find the right words.

I took a careful step towards him, breathing in his scent. I wanted to kiss the worried expression off of his face, to wrap my arms around him and never let go. I wanted to protect him from his shitty father and the nasty, terrible things he’d said and done to him.

“I don’t know what I want,” he said quietly, in a voice so small and weak that it had me feeling overly protective. I needed to hear him laughing. I wanted to see him smile. “What do you want?” he stressed.

“More,” I spat out lamely. “I don’t know. I want to be with you, Danny. I think … I think that I might…”

“What?”

“I think I might be falling for you. And I think you might feel the same way.”

There was a momentary, terrifying pause when neither of us dared to speak. “You what?” he finally said, disbelief clear in his tone.

“You can’t say that you don’t feel anything,” I argued. “There’s just something … here.”

“Jacob,” he breathed, “I do like you. But I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

“I don’t know what I think,” he mumbled.

“Is this because of your family? Are you worried about what they’d think if we got together?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I think that’s part of the problem. You’ve been living by yourself for so long that you’re too afraid to let me in.”

“Don’t start getting sappy on me, Jacob. I wouldn’t have been alone if you hadn’t left all those years ago.”

“I’m here now. I’m sorry that I left. It really wasn’t up to me.”

“You could have come back. After the surgeries. You have no idea how much I missed you.”

“Danny, I–-”

He opened the door rapidly, cold air rushing in front outside, chilling me to the bone. He glared at the tips of his shoes.

“I think you should leave,” he said quietly, words clipped and low.

My cheeks felt warm and my hands were shaking, my breathing uneven and rushed. I felt like my heart was caving in on itself, deliberately breaking on its own. I clenched my hands into tight fists, my knuckles turning white from the pressure.

Without another word, I hurried out the door and trudged back to the car. As I slammed the door closed, Danny shut his front door behind me. I couldn’t bear to look at him.

I wanted to let him into my life, to have him by my side. But he was too unsure, too hurt and resentful and scared to want the same. I put the car in reverse and backed out of the gravel driveway.

The pain in my back was starting to flare up again, made unbearable by the bumpy country road. I gritted my teeth and endured it, too upset to bother with the painkillers. The pain was the only thing keeping me grounded. I drove back to the motel in bitter silence.