Post by Del on Sept 2, 2010 18:53:18 GMT -8
Okay, well this is random to post. I wrote this about a year ago when the relationship I had been in ended. It's a little T.M.I. I'm sure, but after reading it and editing a little I felt I had to share it with someone. It's not very long, and I had considered making it into a narrative of the aftermath. I wrote this about a month after we broke up. Anyway, hopefully it's worth something. It's funny and sad for me to look back on, and I hope you'll feel the humor, angst, and sadness lol.
So, here it is! HOMOSEXUAL ANGST! xD
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Chapter 1
He’s moved on…
It had only been a few weeks; two, maybe three.
How does someone move on that quickly?
Steven sat, thinking softly. He wasn’t quite sure what to feel yet. He was deciding on which emotion was the most appropriate for his current situation; anger, betrayal, sadness. He waited, yet Steven could not choose the poison he so desperately needed; eventually, his mind decided on a disturbing mixture of the three. And then he was off:
If I had only been smarter…
He replayed the memories that he had reviewed so many times in the past few days: the flirtatious glances, the soft smiles, the clear, brown eyes; he would never have them again, at least not with him.
His situation was hopeless. He knew it.
Steven’s story was not a complicated one. It was a common occurrence, told and retold over countless years. It was so common in fact, that he had believed himself to be immune to it.
Or so he thought.
With great clarity, Steven’s mind started from the beginning:
Two boys meet. One stands a head or two taller than the other. The taller one is white, lightly freckled, with dark blonde hair and grey-blue eyes. He smiles often and always seems to have a rosy tint to his cheeks. His build is nice, though he has the tendency to slouch in the shoulders. His hair is thick and it falls past his chin in a slight wave despite his best attempts to straighten it with a flat iron. He is nineteen, and he is very handsome. The other, shorter boy is Asian, Japanese to be precise, and his hair is of medium length and is styled in a trendy fashion. His build is slight, his skin is a nice caramel, and his eyes are brown and clear. He smiles somewhat regularly, though it might as well be nothing compared to the frequency of the taller boy. He is twenty-three, and he is beautiful. Both dress nicely.
For a long while the two look at each other. The Japanese boy, though man may be more appropriate, looks at the other one first. He notices his smile, his laugh, his friendly personality. He notices his beauty.
After awhile the taller boy notices him. At first he simply looks, not taking any particular interest. He smiles, acknowledge the one who is looking at him with a friendly gesture.
Soon after, the Japanese boy approaches. He closes in on the smiling boy and gently runs his hand along the rough stubble of the other one’s face.
This action, seemingly unprovoked, seems to perturb the taller one, and for awhile he appears to contemplate the action deeply.
A few beats later a change occurs; the blonde boy’s face softens. His body relaxes, and his eyes change; he looks at the other boy tenderly. His smile is no longer happy, though it is certainly not sad. His smile is now sweet; his smile is now loving.
Gently, the blonde boy takes the hand of the other, and for a few short moments neither one moves.
A few beats later their eyes meet. They smile and continue to hold hands.
Steven was the blonde one; Hiroki was the other.
Their relationship had started off normal enough; two people meet and take an interest in one another. That was their story… and it was now over.
Well, over for Hiroki, Steven thought. And it was true. While it was over for the Japanese man, Steven had a harder time moving on. Even after a few weeks the pain and confusion remained. The feeling of hopelessness, the feeling of love, the wanting, the hunger; he was left with it all.
Hiroki was never far from his mind.
Steven remembered the nights when they would lay in bed together, holding hands and looking into each others eyes, making promises that wouldn’t be kept. So safe and comfortable had Steven been in those moments, so happy to finally be sharing himself with another, that he invested himself a little too easily in the seasoned veteran.
Hiroki had been the first of many things for Steven. Before Hiroki, Steven had never been in a relationship; he had never kissed another. Looking back, he saw how foolish he had been, how easily he had given himself away.
But how did you say no to someone you worshiped?
Stupid… so stupid.
Even worse was the knowledge that this person Steven had loved, still loved, had begun to see someone else so soon after ending their relationship.
Did I mean nothing to him? Was everything he told me a lie? I don’t understand this….I don’t understand how he could just erase those feelings for me so suddenly….if he even felt them in the first place. Oh god. It must have been my fault; it was my fault. I’m the one, after all, who freaked him out. But how could it be my fault? I acted the same way the entire time we were together. It was only natural for me to care for him, right? I wasn’t the one who started avoiding me; it was him. Of course I confronted him about it, what else could I do? How could I sit and watch while he attempted to erase me from his life? I had to do something… I had to. If only I could read his mind.
Over and over, Steven’s mind scoured through his memories. From this constant revisiting, he hoped a hidden wisdom would arise. That he would somehow discover something he had missed before, something that would solve the problem and bring them back together. But Steven knew that would never happen, he knew that their relationship was over, yet the small chance that it could be saved, that this mess was somehow fixable, was much too tempting for him to resist. That’s when he broke.
“What happened…” he said, knowing full well what had occurred, “I don’t understand this. He was fine. He was acting normal, and then… I don’t know. What possibly could have changed his mind over those three days? He wanted to see me that Sunday… he called me. So what happened? Did I tell him I missed him too much? I told him twice! How is that over doing it….Alright, maybe three times, but does it really count if it’s over MSN? Ahhh! But isn’t that supposed to show him I care? I really wasn’t that overbearing with it, and I know that for a fact! How could he treat me like that? I hadn’t seen him for four days; of course I’d want to talk to him! I even waited before I went to talk to him! I mean we were at play rehearsal, so I’d have to talk to him eventually! Every single time I tried to talk to him he gave me the simplest answer he could think of! And then he would find some reason to get away from me. Where the hell does he get off treating me like that? Ohhhhhh god!”
Steven’s thoughts shifted once more to another, more painful, memory. As he spoke the words out loud his voice began to break:
“I….I had sex with you. I lost my… I lost my virginity to you! You were my first kiss… Friends? Just friends? There is no just friends for me… I… I love you. Oh god. I’m such an idiot. I did everything… everything I said I never would. Only three weeks and we’d already… I just handed you everything, didn’t I!?”
The young man’s face flushed as his eyes began to moisten, his voice cracking under the increasing emotional strain, “I gave you my body… my heart… all the thoughts in my head… and for what? So I could be used up and thrown away once I got too annoying? I’m not a piece of trash for you to… to…”
And then all his pain, all his confusion and frustration, erupted from his heart in ugly racked sobs. It wasn’t pretty crying seen in the movies – the shallow emotion that allowed an actor or actresses face to remain strikingly beautiful as they delivered their heartfelt monologues. No. This was the kind of crying that distorted the face, made it ugly and red, made the victim bury their head in shame. It was the kind that plagued the voice with screams, moans, and sobs; it was the kind of crying, the kind of pain and confusion, that would kill any saint.
“WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? YOU CAN’T JUST FUCK SOMEONE OVER LIKE THAT!!” Steven screamed, his voice gaining an animal like quality. He buried his head into his pillow and continued to scream through jagged and unnaturally fast breathing. After a few minutes of mollified screaming, kicking, and clawing, he became too tired to continue. His episodes of depression were never easy, yet this one had been particularly exhausting. His eye’s were swollen and pink, his throat hurt, and his heart was beating at a ridiculous pace. Slowly but surely, the young man’s head began to clear. “I can’t take this. This shit is fucking stupid! Get back in my life or get the hell out – I don’t CARE anymore! I can’t believe this… I love... Oh, what good will it do if I say it again! My head hurts… my fucking head hurts. My throat hurts, my eyes hurt, my ears hurt… I’m sure some other shit hurts too… fuck! I just.. I love you.”
In this fashion, his thoughts continued; his words were his lullaby, poisoned by the malice in his brain – the perfect drug for sleep. Steven’s last conscious thought was the desire, the need, to never wake again. Fortunately for him, his wish would not come true.
So, here it is! HOMOSEXUAL ANGST! xD
-----
Chapter 1
He’s moved on…
It had only been a few weeks; two, maybe three.
How does someone move on that quickly?
Steven sat, thinking softly. He wasn’t quite sure what to feel yet. He was deciding on which emotion was the most appropriate for his current situation; anger, betrayal, sadness. He waited, yet Steven could not choose the poison he so desperately needed; eventually, his mind decided on a disturbing mixture of the three. And then he was off:
If I had only been smarter…
He replayed the memories that he had reviewed so many times in the past few days: the flirtatious glances, the soft smiles, the clear, brown eyes; he would never have them again, at least not with him.
His situation was hopeless. He knew it.
Steven’s story was not a complicated one. It was a common occurrence, told and retold over countless years. It was so common in fact, that he had believed himself to be immune to it.
Or so he thought.
With great clarity, Steven’s mind started from the beginning:
Two boys meet. One stands a head or two taller than the other. The taller one is white, lightly freckled, with dark blonde hair and grey-blue eyes. He smiles often and always seems to have a rosy tint to his cheeks. His build is nice, though he has the tendency to slouch in the shoulders. His hair is thick and it falls past his chin in a slight wave despite his best attempts to straighten it with a flat iron. He is nineteen, and he is very handsome. The other, shorter boy is Asian, Japanese to be precise, and his hair is of medium length and is styled in a trendy fashion. His build is slight, his skin is a nice caramel, and his eyes are brown and clear. He smiles somewhat regularly, though it might as well be nothing compared to the frequency of the taller boy. He is twenty-three, and he is beautiful. Both dress nicely.
For a long while the two look at each other. The Japanese boy, though man may be more appropriate, looks at the other one first. He notices his smile, his laugh, his friendly personality. He notices his beauty.
After awhile the taller boy notices him. At first he simply looks, not taking any particular interest. He smiles, acknowledge the one who is looking at him with a friendly gesture.
Soon after, the Japanese boy approaches. He closes in on the smiling boy and gently runs his hand along the rough stubble of the other one’s face.
This action, seemingly unprovoked, seems to perturb the taller one, and for awhile he appears to contemplate the action deeply.
A few beats later a change occurs; the blonde boy’s face softens. His body relaxes, and his eyes change; he looks at the other boy tenderly. His smile is no longer happy, though it is certainly not sad. His smile is now sweet; his smile is now loving.
Gently, the blonde boy takes the hand of the other, and for a few short moments neither one moves.
A few beats later their eyes meet. They smile and continue to hold hands.
Steven was the blonde one; Hiroki was the other.
Their relationship had started off normal enough; two people meet and take an interest in one another. That was their story… and it was now over.
Well, over for Hiroki, Steven thought. And it was true. While it was over for the Japanese man, Steven had a harder time moving on. Even after a few weeks the pain and confusion remained. The feeling of hopelessness, the feeling of love, the wanting, the hunger; he was left with it all.
Hiroki was never far from his mind.
Steven remembered the nights when they would lay in bed together, holding hands and looking into each others eyes, making promises that wouldn’t be kept. So safe and comfortable had Steven been in those moments, so happy to finally be sharing himself with another, that he invested himself a little too easily in the seasoned veteran.
Hiroki had been the first of many things for Steven. Before Hiroki, Steven had never been in a relationship; he had never kissed another. Looking back, he saw how foolish he had been, how easily he had given himself away.
But how did you say no to someone you worshiped?
Stupid… so stupid.
Even worse was the knowledge that this person Steven had loved, still loved, had begun to see someone else so soon after ending their relationship.
Did I mean nothing to him? Was everything he told me a lie? I don’t understand this….I don’t understand how he could just erase those feelings for me so suddenly….if he even felt them in the first place. Oh god. It must have been my fault; it was my fault. I’m the one, after all, who freaked him out. But how could it be my fault? I acted the same way the entire time we were together. It was only natural for me to care for him, right? I wasn’t the one who started avoiding me; it was him. Of course I confronted him about it, what else could I do? How could I sit and watch while he attempted to erase me from his life? I had to do something… I had to. If only I could read his mind.
Over and over, Steven’s mind scoured through his memories. From this constant revisiting, he hoped a hidden wisdom would arise. That he would somehow discover something he had missed before, something that would solve the problem and bring them back together. But Steven knew that would never happen, he knew that their relationship was over, yet the small chance that it could be saved, that this mess was somehow fixable, was much too tempting for him to resist. That’s when he broke.
“What happened…” he said, knowing full well what had occurred, “I don’t understand this. He was fine. He was acting normal, and then… I don’t know. What possibly could have changed his mind over those three days? He wanted to see me that Sunday… he called me. So what happened? Did I tell him I missed him too much? I told him twice! How is that over doing it….Alright, maybe three times, but does it really count if it’s over MSN? Ahhh! But isn’t that supposed to show him I care? I really wasn’t that overbearing with it, and I know that for a fact! How could he treat me like that? I hadn’t seen him for four days; of course I’d want to talk to him! I even waited before I went to talk to him! I mean we were at play rehearsal, so I’d have to talk to him eventually! Every single time I tried to talk to him he gave me the simplest answer he could think of! And then he would find some reason to get away from me. Where the hell does he get off treating me like that? Ohhhhhh god!”
Steven’s thoughts shifted once more to another, more painful, memory. As he spoke the words out loud his voice began to break:
“I….I had sex with you. I lost my… I lost my virginity to you! You were my first kiss… Friends? Just friends? There is no just friends for me… I… I love you. Oh god. I’m such an idiot. I did everything… everything I said I never would. Only three weeks and we’d already… I just handed you everything, didn’t I!?”
The young man’s face flushed as his eyes began to moisten, his voice cracking under the increasing emotional strain, “I gave you my body… my heart… all the thoughts in my head… and for what? So I could be used up and thrown away once I got too annoying? I’m not a piece of trash for you to… to…”
And then all his pain, all his confusion and frustration, erupted from his heart in ugly racked sobs. It wasn’t pretty crying seen in the movies – the shallow emotion that allowed an actor or actresses face to remain strikingly beautiful as they delivered their heartfelt monologues. No. This was the kind of crying that distorted the face, made it ugly and red, made the victim bury their head in shame. It was the kind that plagued the voice with screams, moans, and sobs; it was the kind of crying, the kind of pain and confusion, that would kill any saint.
“WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? YOU CAN’T JUST FUCK SOMEONE OVER LIKE THAT!!” Steven screamed, his voice gaining an animal like quality. He buried his head into his pillow and continued to scream through jagged and unnaturally fast breathing. After a few minutes of mollified screaming, kicking, and clawing, he became too tired to continue. His episodes of depression were never easy, yet this one had been particularly exhausting. His eye’s were swollen and pink, his throat hurt, and his heart was beating at a ridiculous pace. Slowly but surely, the young man’s head began to clear. “I can’t take this. This shit is fucking stupid! Get back in my life or get the hell out – I don’t CARE anymore! I can’t believe this… I love... Oh, what good will it do if I say it again! My head hurts… my fucking head hurts. My throat hurts, my eyes hurt, my ears hurt… I’m sure some other shit hurts too… fuck! I just.. I love you.”
In this fashion, his thoughts continued; his words were his lullaby, poisoned by the malice in his brain – the perfect drug for sleep. Steven’s last conscious thought was the desire, the need, to never wake again. Fortunately for him, his wish would not come true.