Solaced Tears

Chapter 1

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Brian's POV

It's been 6 months since Grandfather passed away.. I sit down to write in my journal knowing this is the only way I can come clean and have my release through writing. It is still hard to talk about my pain, even to a pad and paper. Shit my life has changed so much. I am not the same person I was when I came out to the church. Sometimes I wish I still had that Brian's innocence and courage.

I feel a set of eyes burning into my back while I sit on the sofa writing. I know Justin has been concerned. To be fucking honest I have no idea why he has even stayed with me. If I were him I would have left months ago. I never meant to be cruel to him it's just that I was no longer in control.

For you to understand the events that have lead to this point of my recovery I should explain a little more. I, Brian Kinney, am a recovering alcoholic. This is the reason for the journal. I never went to a program; I have too much pride to tell a room full of people my wrongs. So I am doing this alone with Justin's help. Most of my friends and family are not aware of my addiction. I pushed them away when I needed them the most, I regret it terribly but I am not sure if I am strong enough to reveal my problem to them.. I do not need their pity or shame.

Suddenly I feel a warm caress on my shoulder and look up to see Justin, his eyes an intense blue; "Brian are you ok?"

I'm not sure why but those words alone cause an intense ache in my soul. I can feel my heart breaking all over again and I know this is going to be the hardest task I have ever accomplished. Because now all I want to do is open a bottle of rum and drown my sorrow until I am numb.

Justin can see my dilemma and lightly kisses me upon the lips; "I'm here Brian any time you need me ok?" I appreciate knowing he is near, that he cares for me unconditionally. I just nod my head and continue to write.

If I am going to be honest with myself, the true fact is I do not want to feel. If I jot down my experiences I am expressing my emotions, something I had learned to hide well. I would be admitting my wrongs, and my fear; by doing so I am admitting how fucked up my life is. This journal is a reminder that I have walked a jagged path. All these years I was raised a God fearing man, now all I fear is myself. I feel myself disconnecting as I try to write of my sorrow, and I know this is the way I have always coped and I wonder when Damian or Silvia may take over.

It is difficult to say when everything truly began. Justin and I had a wonderful day at the pond making love and being content in each other's warm embrace. That night was when my life started to demolish, the dread I had earlier that day came to pass it truly was the calm before the storm.

Before returning home Justin and I stopped by the hospital, Grandfather was slowly regressing. My heart ached when he looked at me with confusion, as though he was not aware of what was happening to him. The spark that once lit his eyes was swiftly dimming. He reached out to me, clasping onto my arm tightly. Even now I wish I knew what he wanted to tell me, I often fear he was ashamed of me, I can now only hope that was not the case..

Later that night I was jolted out of a deep slumber, fear wracking through my whole being. My body hurt and I knew right away it was grandfather calling to me. Desperately I wanted to go to him, hold his hand and stand by his bedside.. Something stopped me and to this day I don't know what may have interfered with my judgment that night. I wish with all my heart I was there for him. After about 2 hours of pacing the room and feeling the anxiety within me, the sensation finally passed and I felt a calmness. I knew right then and there that grandfather was gone and that he had died alone. I remember running my hand through my hair in dismay. Fuck, why was I not there with him?

Instantly I called my mother. No matter how cruel she has been to me, she is still my flesh and blood and I cling to that need for her love. I can hear the disgust in her voice but at the same time I can feel she clings to me too no matter how much we may despise each other, we will always be connected.

Her voice shakes with uncertainty; "Brian is that you?"

"Yes mother it's me. I'm calling to see if you have heard anything about Grandfather," desperately I try to hold back my emotions.

Mother's voice cracks and she starts to cry; "Brian I just received a call. Dad has taken a turn for the worse they are moving him to the ICU unit. I am on my way to go see him now."

I'm bewildered by my mother's words. I was so sure that grandfather had passed, but now there is hope that I can say goodbye; "I'll meet you there."

Sneaking back into the bedroom I get dressed silently, kissing Justin on the forehead I head out to my demise. I have always been a strong believer in the super natural, even when it went beyond the comprehension of the church. I often kept the things I saw or felt to myself, much like I did my sexuality, because I knew it was not accepted and at times, even feared.

Starting my car I get the sensation I am no longer alone, a cold yet comforting breeze rushes through me. I can feel the tears burning in my eyes, turning to the passengers side of the car I see the translucent form of my grandfather. He smiles at me with love and compassion. Gently he kisses me on the cheek then vanishes before my eyes..

I am so taken back by my vision I pull the car over to the side of the road and turn off the engine. I hold my face in my hands and weep uncontrollably, letting the anguish overcome me. Wondering why now, why did he have to leave me now? I have so many doubts. So many windows left open but he still said good bye.. Why did he come to me? Out of everyone, why me?

Wiping my tears away I restart the car and head to the hospital. I reach the emergency room where the receptionist asked me to wait for the security guard. Immediately I notice the solemn look upon the guard's face. I follow him and I can feel my chest closing in and the heat of my grief threatening to take my breath away. I try to hold back the remorse and tears.

The Nurse approaches me, her expression alone say it all. "I am Orville's grandson Brian Kinney how is he doing?"

I can see the compassion in her eyes; "Mr. Kinney is your mother with you?"

Clearing my throat I automatically feel the anger growing inside me; "She is on her way."

The nurse takes both of my hands in hers; "Mr. Kinney I was hoping to wait to tell you as a family, but I think you should know; your grandfather did not make it. We were getting him situated in his room and."

I cut her off mid sentence not wanting to hear any more excuses.. My sorrow is already invading me; "Please tell my mother when she gets here, I don't think I can. Will you please tell me what room he is in? I would like to see him."

The nurse looks at me confused; "Mr. Kinney are you sure?"

"I'm sure," I growl out in frustration. She jumps slightly and I feel bad for startling her but I am in no mood for coddling or sympathy.

She ushers me down the hallway; "Right this way. I will tell your mother when she gets here."

"Thank you."

The drapes are drawn around the room and I open them slightly to duck into the room. Even though I know grandfather has passed away I am still not prepared for the sight before me. Even writing about it now chokes me up.

I was appalled to see the nurse had not prepared him in a presentable state for the family. Walking closer to my deceased grandfather, his body is uncovered to his waist. His eyes are glazed yellow, haunted and hollow. No life sparkles in his once happy orbs and his mouth hangs open ajar. I feel the dark shadows hovering over my emotions as the mist forms in my eyes; I have to look away. I can hear the hissing of the oxygen and notice the canella is still in his nose. Reaching over I turn off the oxygen and remove his canella. I lay my palm upon his eyes closing them gently; Grandfather's skin is so cold against mine. I gasp for breath and my heart tightens in mourning.

For a brief moment I am glad it is me who was here first. It is my own selfishness and greed to be thankful I was the first to say good bye. Pulling the sheet up around his neck, I kneel down next to the bed laying my head upon Grandfather's breathless chest. I don't know why I do this, I know he can't feel me, but for a moment, one single second, I can be close to him; even if he is no longer present. I long to be in his embrace, to feel his laughter against my own chest. But it can never be; never again.

God I can't do this. Slamming my journal closed I throw it across the room. Resting my head on my knees I let the tears moisten my cheeks. All I want is to be is numb and to hide my pain. Laying my head upon my palms I hear a desperate whimper escape my lips. I can hear Justin approaching me. I look at him through blurry eyes and he kneels down upon his knees taking my hands in his.

Hi svoice is full of concern; "Brian do you want to talk about it?"

"No," I gulp back the hurt that's evident in my tone; "All I want is a drink.. Justin please let me have a single shot. I promise it will be the last. I can't do this."

Justin places his hand under my chin lifting my face so our eyes make contact; "Brian, you have been numb for 6 fucking months. You have not healed at all. You need to be able to feel to mend the wounds of everything you have been through. More than anything I wish I could help you forget, rid your pain through alcohol, sex or drugs. But for what, the risk of losing you? Brian I don't want to lose you. The path you were on was killing you slowly and I refuse to watch the man I love throw it all away." A single tear seeps from Justin's eyes as he tries to hold strong for both of us.

I nod my head and then lay it upon his chest. Justin's warm hands wrap around my head protecting me from my shame and letting me shed my sorrow. After a moment of solace I pull away from his touch as I stand up and head to the bedroom.

Laying down on the bed I curl up in a fetal position, grief stricken and drained my body shakes. I am not exactly sure when Justin joins me, but I feel his body spoon up against mine as he wipes the tears away and whispers in my ear; "Brian, whenever you're ready you can read my journal. I know you are afraid to but it may help."

The warmth of his body leaves mine and I hear him rustling through his drawer.. Justin lays his journal next to me opened to the back pages and kisses me briefly on the lips; "Read it only if you want to. I want you to know you're not alone. We are both suffering and I need you as much as you need me now.. I love you Brian." He caresses my hair and walks out of the room.

I sit at the edge of the bed and hold the book in my hand debating if I should read the page he has it turned to. Finally I do and I notice right away there are no dates or times, it is separated by the months of my addiction. At first I am thrown by this and then I realize this is Justin's artistic view. For him there is no time and no days, everything is broken into moments and that is just what he has captured in his book; moments.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Justin's Journal- 6th month

Opening my eyes I am surrounded by darkness.. I can feel the sudden urge to panic merge within my spirit.

Reaching out to Brian, his side of the bed is empty and cold. I get up and stumble to the bedroom door noticing it is closed. I walk into the living room and spot Brian right away; "Brian?" He stays silent.

I walk over with caution and lightly put my hand on his shoulder; "Brian, what are you doing in the Dark? You hate the dark." With my other hand I turn on a small light next to the sofa and his body stiffens.

Brian clears his throat and his voice is shaky; "Turn it off." When I don't he turns to me, his expression is blank and cold; his eyes are blood shot and hold deep sorrow. Brian reaches over tuning off the light then whispers; "In the darkness nothing matters. In the darkness it never really happened."

I sit down next to Brian and cradle him gently in my arms. He pulls away for a moment weeping softly; "Please don't touch me Justin. I don't want anyone around me right now ok?"

But I can't let go of him. I am so afraid for Brian. The last six months have been hell and I know this needs to stop. Brian is slowly killing himself.. "Brian please stop. You can't do this anymore. Where is the man I fell in love with? I don't know you anymore. You're cold to me; you never want to make love. You want to fuck, and I let you fuck me. I let you use me because...because I am so afraid of you leaving me. All you fucking care about anymore is being numb and getting off. I don't think you even give a fuck about me or your friends. I can't handle seeing you drinking yourself to an oblivion. I am sorry your grandfather passed away, but I don't think this is the life he wished for you. I don't think.."

"You're right Justin you don't think!" He growls while picking up the rum bottle off the coffee table. The sound of sloshing fluid echoes in my ears as he tilts it to his lips. He lets out a low chuckle; "See Sunshine ,things are always better when you don't think. That, I'm afraid, is something you do way too often."

Brian's words rip into my heart as tears well in my eyes; "Brian, that's not fair. Why are you doing this? Why are you fucking pushing me away?"

He stands up and laughs wickedly; "Life's not fair Justin!" Brian blinks, trying to focus and I see his body swaying back and forth. He points s finger at me; "You're lucky. You have a family who loves you and a grandfather who is alive. I have no one and you know what? I don't need anyone. The only thing I need is right there in that damn bottle. He pushes past me and grabs the bottle once again; "now if you don't mind I am going to have another drink so leave me the fuck alone!" he screams.

Later while lying in bed I watch as my lover sleeps. I cherish every single one of these moments because it's the only time I see Brian anymore. I lightly brush my fingers through his hair and Brian lets out a light moan and whimpers. I wipe away the tears that are trailing down his cheeks. I know he is hurting. Every day I reach out to him and he pushes me further away letting Damien take more control.

I wish there was something I could say or do for him so he could be free of his inner demons once and for all. Getting out of bed I gently unclasp his hand that tightly holds the bottle of cheap rum. I kiss him on the forehead and try to hold back my tears. Feeling weak I lean back against the wall and slowly slide down clasping the bottle to my chest. I wonder to myself if there is any way I could have prevented this.

Return to Solaced Tears