Raz
Bluelighter
This is a story about love. It's true, and it ends the same way all true love stories do...which is to say it never really ends, any moreso than we do in the hearts of the people who really know us.
**********
The idea that we could actually be in love was always stupid and pretentious. We both have had our fair share of pretention, but nobody could accuse us of stupidity. Not that much stupidity anyway.
So what do you call it then? The love that we had was as close as lovers get without touching. We knew more about each other than we knew about the world we lived in, and that was all that helped us survive at times.
I remember when I met you. I remember thinking you were an arrogant vain prissy little gay boy, and I remember knowing without a doubt that we would never be friends. As much as you credit me with having taught you, I think you underestimate what you taught me...about my own preconceptions and my own vanity, about my own angry little black bleak view of the universe. Anyway, we became friends. And even while it was happening I kept it superficial. I remember the first time I chose your side over the man you were going out with, the man whom I loved; and it surprised me. It surprised me that you were sensitive and intelligent and that there was so much more to you than just being pretty.
I don't really know what happened there. As these things happen, we kind of...connected. We became best friends, and much more than that. You became my soulmate. We watched one another's back against every force in the world that wanted to hurt us. We were there for one another to make sure that no matter how far either one of us fell into darkness, it was never too far. We understood as so few do that we needed that darkness, like some kind of test of the Gods...we needed to know that we could hit rock bottom and come back. At the same time you loved me enough that you came to rock bottom with me just so I wouldn't go through that alone. And I did the same for you. You told me things that you've never told another living soul. I told you the very few things that I never broadcast to the world. You understood as so few did what was behind those broadcasts. You knew where my self-loathing came from and you knew I could combat it. You allowed me to do that and you supported me when I did. You never held my hand. You never treated me like a child. You never treated me like a burden.
People change.
You've grown beyond that part of yourself that needs to hurt. Sometimes I wonder how much you've grown beyond it and how much you've suppressed it, but I respect the choice you've made. I still have some growing to do, and I understand that you can't be there for that. Not right now. The world has shifted on its cosmic axis, and we don't fit together as well as we once did. I miss what we had. I've got some grieving to do, and I know you do as well because I can see it when we get together and there's something missing. We used to work together every day, go out after work together and then ring one another as soon as we got home. Now we go weeks without anything more than the most superficial of e-mails. I can still read you better than anybody else, but it's no longer instinctive. We came apart.
Still, through all of this I love you and I know you love me and for what we were to each other I will always owe you more than I owe any other person this side of Heaven. I wish you well with whatever path you choose. I hope that there's never a time when I'm not somewhere along that path. And no matter where those winding roads dip or curve or to which undiscovered countries they take us, I'll always feel that place inside me that you changed. I'll always feel that love that you taught me. I'll always feel that piece of you that I carry inside of me when I'm not enough.
I love you,
Trav
**********
The idea that we could actually be in love was always stupid and pretentious. We both have had our fair share of pretention, but nobody could accuse us of stupidity. Not that much stupidity anyway.
So what do you call it then? The love that we had was as close as lovers get without touching. We knew more about each other than we knew about the world we lived in, and that was all that helped us survive at times.
I remember when I met you. I remember thinking you were an arrogant vain prissy little gay boy, and I remember knowing without a doubt that we would never be friends. As much as you credit me with having taught you, I think you underestimate what you taught me...about my own preconceptions and my own vanity, about my own angry little black bleak view of the universe. Anyway, we became friends. And even while it was happening I kept it superficial. I remember the first time I chose your side over the man you were going out with, the man whom I loved; and it surprised me. It surprised me that you were sensitive and intelligent and that there was so much more to you than just being pretty.
I don't really know what happened there. As these things happen, we kind of...connected. We became best friends, and much more than that. You became my soulmate. We watched one another's back against every force in the world that wanted to hurt us. We were there for one another to make sure that no matter how far either one of us fell into darkness, it was never too far. We understood as so few do that we needed that darkness, like some kind of test of the Gods...we needed to know that we could hit rock bottom and come back. At the same time you loved me enough that you came to rock bottom with me just so I wouldn't go through that alone. And I did the same for you. You told me things that you've never told another living soul. I told you the very few things that I never broadcast to the world. You understood as so few did what was behind those broadcasts. You knew where my self-loathing came from and you knew I could combat it. You allowed me to do that and you supported me when I did. You never held my hand. You never treated me like a child. You never treated me like a burden.
People change.
You've grown beyond that part of yourself that needs to hurt. Sometimes I wonder how much you've grown beyond it and how much you've suppressed it, but I respect the choice you've made. I still have some growing to do, and I understand that you can't be there for that. Not right now. The world has shifted on its cosmic axis, and we don't fit together as well as we once did. I miss what we had. I've got some grieving to do, and I know you do as well because I can see it when we get together and there's something missing. We used to work together every day, go out after work together and then ring one another as soon as we got home. Now we go weeks without anything more than the most superficial of e-mails. I can still read you better than anybody else, but it's no longer instinctive. We came apart.
Still, through all of this I love you and I know you love me and for what we were to each other I will always owe you more than I owe any other person this side of Heaven. I wish you well with whatever path you choose. I hope that there's never a time when I'm not somewhere along that path. And no matter where those winding roads dip or curve or to which undiscovered countries they take us, I'll always feel that place inside me that you changed. I'll always feel that love that you taught me. I'll always feel that piece of you that I carry inside of me when I'm not enough.
I love you,
Trav
