The Darkness of Past

Part 1

Brian’s POV

                   Will I think of you?
                   Only at sunrise, which is God’s beginning
                   For you were there at the beginning of me
                   When I came alive and discovered my place
                   My worth, the beauty of earth
                   And the miracle of daybreak once again
                   And the richness of mornings to come
                   Only in the morning
                   Each time the darkness of past
                   Is chased by the light of now
                   Will I think of you...
                   Only then

When did the darkness start? I wish I could remember so that I could go back and perhaps change the course of my life. No, not my life, OUR life. We were together when this darkness settled upon us. Why couldn’t we see it? Did it come so slowly, gradually, that it was there before we knew it was even coming?

This isn’t what I wanted. But it is where we are now and the blame is partly mine. We were together, you and I, or so I thought. We had our rules. Were they made in haste, without thinking, without knowing rules could be broken so easily. Once, twice, what did it matter? Once broken, they meant nothing. There was the forgiveness. But the forgiveness I offered only covered the hurt. It could not destroy it. The hurt and pain remained. Buried in some recess of my mind that only my dreams could find.

The regret you expressed was meant to cancel the deed, like it did not happen. But it did, and the fact of that could not be canceled by you or me.

I had a part in what you finally decided to do. I could not give you what  you wanted or needed. I could not give you myself-my being, my soul. You had my heart, but even that was hidden in memories of things past, memories best not remembered. How many times did I want to tell you how I felt? Bare my soul in words expressed with warmth and sincerity. I could not say those words. They were locked in my heart and in my mind. I wanted to give them to you, but I could not. I wanted to wrap them in a box with a blue ribbon and give them to you. But the words couldn’t come out. The key was lost, or maybe I never had the key. I did try to find it. All those nights I held you close, kissed you, made love to you. There’s that word, LOVE. Did I even say, Let me make love to you?” I couldn’t even say that, could I, even though  that’s how I felt, that first time we were together after you were hurt.

You tried so hard to understand, but you were still so fragile, still healing. Raw emotions covered you, poured out of you. I wanted to say the things you needed to hear, but all I could do was hold you and hope you understood.

I could not give you what you wanted or needed and I’ll never forgive myself for that. You know how I feel about “sorry”, but if I did feel differently, I guess you could say I was sorry. I thought we would be together, that this thing we had, that you called love, would be able to stand strong. I was mistaken. Love isn’t strong on it’s own. Love has to be cared for, nurtured, fought for, fed. It needs to be treated with respect and pride. It needs to be kissed and caressed, not stepped on and battered.

Can I ever make it up to you, all the things I should have done, should have said, but couldn’t? Would you try to prove over again that what you said was the truth? I lie in bed at night and wonder if things can be different. If you were here with me now, my arms around you, your body against mine, breathing the same air, feeling our hearts beating, if you were here with me now, could I say “I love you?” Could I say those words and know with everything I am, with everything I will be, you would believe me?

I can say those words, now. It took the hurt and loneliness of your leaving to show me that our lives were meant to be lived together. You are a part of me. You are the part that brings out the best in me, that makes me want to forget the darkness. Without you I am less than whole. And I want to be whole again, with you.

 

Justin’s POV

What am I doing? I wish I knew. I thought I had it all figured out. I thought we had it figured out. Those months after you made love to me the first time, after I was hurt...I  thought everything as going to be ok. What happened to the Brian and Justin we were then? When did things get so messed up, so dark and confusing?

You told me you never wanted me to change, but I had to grow up. I couldn’t stay 17 forever. I couldn’t stay innocent or sweet or so blindly in love forever.  Did I lose too much of what was really me, trying to be the person I thought I should be?

When did I start seeing your faults? Seeing that you weren’t a god. I remember telling Daphne, after that first night, that I had “seen the face of god and his name is Brian Kinney”. That was almost two years ago, and too much has happened in those two years.

I can’t blame you for everything. Certainly, I had choices and other roads  that I could have taken. Why did I choose this road that led  to unhappiness and darkness? Did I think it would be exciting? Robert Frost is going through my mind. A poem I memorized years ago. The road I took has made all the difference. And I wonder where the other road would have led?.

At first I went along with the game, hoping you would tire of it and want  only me. But you never did. You even gave me a hustler for my birthday. That’s when I knew my life had to change. I wanted more from you, the man I have loved since that first night. I wanted you. Only you. But you were unwilling or unable to give yourself to me. Everyone says you have walls around your heart, and no one will ever be able scale them or tear them down. I tried, believe me I tried.  I think your heart has a lock on it and you can’t find the key because it’s  lost in all those memories you try so hard to forget. I see the goodness and love in you, what  you are capable of. The way you look at Gus and hold him and talk to him and your relationship with Michael and Lindsay. It’s all love of one kind and it’s the love you show me. Picking up the pieces when I really mess up, holding me when I have nightmares, paying for school, coming to my prom. Why couldn’t I just accept that love? Why did I have to insist on your saying  it? “I love you.” Just words I was taught to believe made it all perfect. What is a rose compared to the tenderness of you holding me when I wake up screaming and crying from a nightmare I don’t remember, feeling your arms around me, your hands caressing me, your voice calming me?

I should have seen it sooner. When I did find someone who would give me a rose  every day, I realized  it wasn’t what I wanted or needed  after all.  Roses die and get thrown in the trash. It’s how “I love you” is expressed in actions that count.  I wanted to hear your voice telling me everything would be alright, that you were there, holding me and would hold me forever if I let you or needed you to. That was how you showed your love.

I know, now, that you aren’t a god. No man is. You are just who you are and I have to accept that. You love me. At least you did love me at one time before I made such a mess of things. I believe you can love me again, if I give you a reason to trust me. Can I go back? Maybe I should say, will you take me back?  I hurt you so much. I hurt myself, but I can live with that if I was sure of my place with you. Maybe I can help you find the key. Maybe it will work for both of our hearts.

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