His wrinkled fingers wandered over the old and battered cover of the brown-leathered book. His eyes softened, the laughing lines becoming more prominent and the corners of his lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. In black ink the words “A book where time is forever frozen still” and “from Mark” were carved into the cover. The old man took a deep breath and with a heavy heart opened the photo album.

The first picture is of his 16^th birthday when Mark gave him the photo album and a camera as a present. The two of them were grinning into the camera and Jackson remembered feeling his heart flutter whenever he saw Mark smile like that. He remembered tracing the corners of those pink lips with shaky fingers as he glued the photograph into the album. His now much older fingers repeated the gesture from fifty years ago before he mustered up the strength to turn the page.

The old man pressed his lips into a thin line as he looked at the next picture. It was one of his favourites; in the photograph was a red haired Mark standing on the beach despite the cold October weather in his favourite ripped jeans and giving the camera his brightest smile. There was no sun out that day but Jackson remembered just seeing that smile made his whole body feel warm. There was another photograph beside that one. Mark had insisted on taking one of Jackson too and forced the younger boy to stand still as he snapped a few pictures with childish delight. The picture showed a close up on his face with the cloudy sky and dark sea in the background. A small smile graced his lips but when he got the picture developed he became scared by the look in his own eyes. He was shocked at how obvious his feelings seemed when he looked at Mark and the eighteen year old Jackson couldn’t help but wonder just how deep those feelings went.

The next pictures all showed him and Mark during their time in university. In some of them Jackson looked incredibly tired and worn out, as if the whole weight of the world was on his shoulders while Mark was always smiling brightly. As if Jackson was the flower fighting to survive and Mark was the sun that couldn’t go away or the younger boy would wither.

The old man turned page after page carefully before he found what he was looking for. It was a picture of the day they graduated from university and it was the last picture of them together. Both of them were aware of that and while Jackson didn’t even try to smile for the camera Mark forced a smile on his face despite the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. Jackson would often look at the picture, even years after it was taken. In it he could see Mark’s heart break into a million little pieces because they would be separated and because he still wanted to look happy for Jackson, he still wanted to be his sun and bring him warmth. The older boy knew that Jackson didn’t chose to leave him and he didn’t want to make it harder on him then it already was.

That evening when they arrived home Mark started sobbing into his shoulder and all of a sudden it was Jackson’s turn to be his sun. He promised the older boy that they would stay in contact, that they wouldn’t forget each other and with a smile and a shaky voice he managed to tell Mark to send him lots of pictures of him so he could continue the photo album. Mark agreed.

The next morning Mark had accompanied him to the airport and asked for one last picture of Jackson. He took it with his Polaroid camera and when Jackson’s softly smiling and heartbroken imagine appeared on the small paper Mark slipped it into his ripped jeans with a grin.

He remembered intertwining his fingers with Mark’s just before he had to leave him. He remembered leaning closer till his lips were ghosting over the soft skin of the other’s cheek and he remembered the words he told him.

            “If you have that picture than you won’t ever be alone, I’ll always be with you. Just wait for me to come home.” Jackson felt like crying as he looked into Mark’s large, watery eyes, but he bit the inside of his cheek and smiled. Mark’s cold fingers had slipped from his grasp and Jackson had to leave.

The old man had to sit back for a moment and blink away the tears threating to spill from his tired eyes. The memory still hurt like a fresh scar. It would be a lie to say that he regretted leaning Mark more than anything else, but truth was he regretted not being able to visit him while he still could.

Jackson put an envelope between the pages of the photo album and stood up. His legs were shaky and his body felt tired but he couldn’t bear sitting any longer. He went over to the window overlooking his backyard and closed his eyes.

In the same backyard him and Mark had their first fight. They were twenty-one and decided to spend their summer holidays at Jackson’s house since his parents were often away and they wanted to get out of the city.

He couldn’t recall what the fight was about he only remembered that he did something to hurt Mark and the older boy had started spitting venom that made his heart burn as if it was set on fire. His word hurt but when Mark tried to leave Jackson held him back. He hugged him close and apologized until Mark had calmed down.

It was the first time he realised how much the thought of losing Mark scared him.

The old man opened his eyes again and looked around the cramped room. His eyes immediately found the object he was looking for and he went over to his bookshelf to pick up the gold necklace that was lying there. Mark had gotten it when he was sixteen, a present from his mother; she told him that he should keep the picture of the person he loves most inside the locket. Inside it was Jackson’s picture.

The old man’s wrinkled fingers tightened around the necklace and he went back to his seat. With a sigh he sat down and opened the photo album where he left off.

True to his word Mark had sent him pictures of himself. About two years after he moved away Mark sent him a picture that showed the older boy wrapped up in in a thick winter coat and a wool scarf standing in front of a lamppost. He had a shy smile on his face and the old man recalled the memory it caused with a grin.

They were both nineteen and by than it was obvious that there was something between them, something neither could pinpoint. They were close without a doubt, closer then best friends usually are. Lingering touches and soft gazes was all if took to tell, but neither of them ever crossed the line.

Until that one day in November when they were walking home with the cold night air colouring their cheeks and noses red. Mark had grabbed his arm when they were standing under the lamppost from that picture and stepped impossibly close to Jackson. Their cold noses were touching and then Mark’s soft and warm lips were pressed against his. It was the barest of touches and it showed all the affection and love Jackson’s eyes showed in the very first picture Mark took when they were on the beach.

Mark had stepped back with the sweetest smile on his face and they walked home without another word. At that time they thought no words were needed.

The old man sighed again and turned the pages until he came to the very last picture. It showed a Mark who had turned thirty-five a few weeks ago and who only had the ghost of his once brilliant smile on his face. He had moved back to the countryside and was standing in front of his new house. It was the last picture he ever got from Mark and it was the oldest he ever saw him get. Just a couple weeks after the picture had been taken Mark’s mother called him. She was sobbing violently and although Jackson couldn’t catch everything she said he did catch the words “hit by car” and “died immediately”.

Recalling that memory brought the old man to tears; no matter how many years passed, not being able to see Mark again would always be his biggest regret. Jackson brought a shaky hand to his mouth and tried to suppress the sobs that were wrecking his body.

            “I’m so sorry Mark. I’m so sorry.” The old man whispered. The feeling of regret was like a huge scar across his heart that had barely started to fade. There was no way to change the past and Jackson could do nothing but bear with the pain and try to live his life without the person he had considered his other half.

He still hoped that in the afterlife they would be able to see each other again, until then he had the Mark from his photographs.

--

            30 Years Ago

            “Happy Birthday Mark!” Jackson screamed as soon as he heard the other man utter a soft hello. “How does it feel to be thirty five?” Mark chuckled softly.

            “Not very different from thirty four.” Jackson knew that Mark was smiling but he could hear the sadness laced into his voice anyway. “Jackson,” The older man had started and Jackson let out a questioning hum. “I love you.” Mark whispered. It was the first time Mark had said those words and Jackson needed a moment to register them. He was grinning from ear to ear and probably looked like a fool.

            “You just wait, you hear me? I will come visit you I swear it will work out this time. I will probably need two months and than I’ll be there.” Jackson’s voice sounded determined and he repeated the words he had already said so often. “Wait for me to come home.”