J

Looking back to the beginning, I feel like our relationship has traveled through the seasons. When we met, it was spring, a time of beginnings, a time of wonder, thrills, excitement and joy. It was a time of exploring each other's bodies, getting to know each and every nuance, each and every pleasure spot, tickle spot, etc. We learned how to read each other. You really learned to read me and how to manipulate me. You became an expert of Brianese. You saw right through me in the spring. My mask and my walls meant nothing to you. You looked right through each one to my soul and walked through the walls as if they were mere cobwebs, strong but sticky, with a lot of space. At times, you stuck like gum, at others you slid through the spaces, but always you made it to the other side, into my heart.

When everyone else, saw only what I wanted them to see, accepted only what I wanted them to accept about me, you, at first glance, sailed right past. How? You accepted that very first impression when I walked up to you and you didn't waver on your belief even when everyone said I was otherwise. You were so confident in your knowledge of me. I marveled at your maturity, your knowledge of yourself, belief in yourself and us, your courage, and so much more. I felt insecure compared to you. I felt insecure in what was developing. It was so out of character for me, but it was time and it was exhilarating. Sometimes, I was scared when I would show you too much of a glimpse of me, I would close myself off, become my mask. I would then try to push you away.

You have put spring into my step; you have made me feel young again, feel beautiful, feel alive, and yes, even loved. The most important thing you do is that you make me feel wanted and needed. Unfortunately, you have never been able to make me feel secure in your love. It is now what you do or don't do that makes me feel insecure. It is me. I am unworthy or at least I feel that way. You are young and could have anyone, yet you choose me, a man with so much baggage, a man unsure of how to show his feelings or afraid to show them, a man who has too many layers of hurt and disappointment to be able to give you all that you deserve, yet you persist.

You grabbed my heart that very first night, at the very special moment under the street lamp. Yes, we danced our way into each of our hearts in the spring. I knew you would love me, but someday you would leave the nest of our love. I kept pushing you away because I couldn't or didn't want to get hurt, but in those first weeks, you kept pushing back, gently cradling my heart in your love. You wouldn't allow me to shed the skin you were under. Guess I never really wanted you to go and you knew it. I settled in, knowing you were around and would be around. You infiltrated my life and my friends. You became much more than part of the gang, part of my entourage, part of my family, you became my breath. Without you I could not breathe.

Then came the summer of our love, you moved in for the first time. It was good at first. I was glad you were so open and honest about whom you were. I was so proud when you stood up for me with your dad. Though I didn't show it, I was so glad you came back to live with me when your father wanted you to hide who you were. That is not you. You would have shriveled up and died if you lived like that. Your father was so full of hate. How did you learn to love so well with a father like that, I wondered? I had to get used to sharing my space. I was gruff, hard to live with, but it was a good time. We got to really know a lot about each other more than just in the bedroom and I would at times forget you were only a teen and not out of high school. Baby, we danced to the beat that was us, distinct and unique. You never allowed me to take you for granted and when I did, you showed me you wouldn't allow it. You would call me on it. King of Babylon is one example of how you put me in my place. Your dancing was so amazing. I tried to act nonchalant, but you were so hot up on stage. I was proud when you got the crown but hurt when you took Shaun from me, and I felt even worse seeing you topping him. I felt totally rejected and for an instant understood what you have felt. I couldn't let you see that vulnerability. If I did, you would have owned me then and there. I was not ready for that. It was then I realized how wild our ride would be. We were on the roller coaster of life and I was about to hang on first from the bar and then from the edge. When did I let go? When did I start falling? When did you start riding away from me?

In my opinion, the summer lasted until the prom. The prom began the fall, but it also began my acknowledgement of my love for you. That night was the best. The dance was ridiculously romantic, but it was also the worse night of my life. The leaves falling from the trees of autumn were the tears I felt and shed that night I almost lost you for good. It was the night I surrendered to my love for you. It was the night I was terrified and allowed my true feelings to show. I was vulnerable and open to you completely that night, willing to open up all my secrets to you, and then you forgot. I had revealed something of myself that night and you had no idea what it had cost me or how much it had meant to you. You had claimed me, chained me to your heart, and I submitted to the chain willingly. With an act of hate, all was lost. I had shielded myself from hurt but this was torture and our ride since has been variations of that torture at times, both of us reeling from that night, branded with the memory and the aftermath of it all. We needed each other to be able to heal. We helped each other over time. I needed to protect you and was by your side every night while you were in a coma, and afterwards, when you woke, I stayed just outside the door. I came when you were asleep and when no one would be the wiser. I didn't want anyone to see how much I was hurting for myself, for you, and for us. I held your hand then. I kissed your eyelids and I cried real tears for all the time I had lost not allowing myself to love you as I should have by letting you completely in. I cried tears for you and the time wasted there in the hospital because I was foolish enough to come to the prom. Yes, I still feel guilt for that. I know that it is irrational, but I do. Even with hindsight, I can't see how I could have prevented it, but I keep playing different scenarios in my head when I think back to that day. The only one that even has the slightest possibility was if I had pulled you into the car for a few more kisses and then drove you the few feet back to the door to the garage elevator of the hotel. Maybe, just maybe, we would not have had to endure this devastation. I couldn't have you. I had no one to confide in. I was alone. I became destructive without my anchor. I drank and drugged myself to oblivion and I tricked like never before. All to forget! Funny, but it never worked. Most of the time, I sobered up at the hospital. Just looking at you lying helpless would do that for me. I could not sleep. The nightmares were constant bedfellows. Food wouldn't stay down. I was a living wreck. How I didn't lose my job then is only a miracle.

Then you came home to me, finding me at Woody's in another of my drunken states, but seeing you sobered me up fast. You have a tendency of doing that. Remember when you saw Hobbs at the hospice. I returned home tipsy drunk, unable to walk straight and it took only one look at you, added to that fact that you said, that you saw Hobbs, and it was like I had never taken a drink that day. By the way, I was proud of you at Pride. You done good, baby. Well, back from that tangent, my heart broke in half the day your mom banned me from seeing you. Then it broke again, each piece in half, when you came to the door and I had to shut you out. You pounded on the door several times frantically before you left. I had closed the door with all my strength and fortitude, leaving me nothing left, I slumped down onto the floor and cried, first, silently, and then torrentially after you left. I was a basket case that afternoon. I stayed there on the floor for hours. I couldn't move. I had so wanted to hold you, keep you safe in my arms especially, since you mentioned freaking out. I had betrayed you. I had let a woman who was being selfish dictate my actions. She wasn't looking to what you needed, she was looking to what she needed and I allowed it. Brian Kinney being ruled by a woman! Fuck! How did I allow that? That was one of the tortuous moments. The dance at Pride was one of the ecstatic moments, though also ridiculously romantic. I loved that dance, second only to the prom in its importance to us.

There were so many rocky and happy moments in our lives during this time. I was as thrilled as you, when you moved back in. I was so loving and gentle when we finally made love again. It was in some ways better than the first time. You found the scarf then and knew how entwined our lives were. When did you forget? I have the scarf still, hidden, as a reminder of our love, of how we almost lost it all, and how I almost lost you forever. That was more devastating then you walking away. At least, you are alive and there is always hope. I feel that the fall lasted from the night of the prom till the night of the rules.

Some people have landmarks of places when they drive. In my mind, I have landmarks of our ride. Why I never did relationships before is because of all the hurts and pain encountered during the journey. Our journey navigated many hills and valleys, many hurts and joys. We had such fights, but boy, I loved the make-up sex afterwards. Sometimes, I just started a fight just to have the extra spice afterwards. Our sex was never the same twice.

Winter was the rules and the end of our first cycle. I saw the writing on the wall. The clock was ticking and I am using all the clichés, but I know the rules were truly the beginning of the end and I also knew what had been good was turning soft, bruising like a fruit too long in a bowl, forgotten. I had not nurtured what I had, our relationship, I was afraid. Now, the downward swing of the pendulum was nearing its mark. I needed to try one last time to show you how much I cared. I gave myself to you when you needed it. I understood how much it would mean to you to top me. I have wanted it for a while, since the summer of our adventure. I felt happy and content when I felt you inside. It had been long past due. It was for me, an expression of my love for you. I sense us moving apart. I want to have shared myself with you the best way I know how, so that you can take that knowledge with you and those feelings. I also needed to feel you before everything fell apart. I did it for you, but I also did it for me, and for us. Can you see that? Do you understand the subtle differences here? It was a selfless act. Do you realize what I have done? Do you realize the meaning behind the action? Why can't you read me anymore? When did this happen? When did you lose your gift? Why did you stop trying? You used to read my eyes, my body language, my actions, and my soul. Fuck! I miss that. It was after the attack that things changed. You changed. I changed. I had opened up and you didn't remember. It hurt so much. My walls that you so expertly pulled down started to build themselves up again with my help. I had to protect myself. It would have been so easy for you to knock them down again. They were fragile, not yet completely in place. I actually hoped you would make them crumble. We both were attacked that night, both suffered irreparably, but I thought we were learning to live with it, through it. We both became damaged souls that night but we had each other. You knew me, you trusted me, you even allowed me to help you through it all, and you finally allowed me to touch you when no one else could. When did it become all about you, not about us? When did you stop looking into my soul? I missed you in the winter and then you left. You had left me long before you walked out the door at the Rage party. I did not know what else to do. I gave you a choice, hoping against hope I was wrong. I didn't want you to stay because I asked. I wanted you to stay because you wanted it more than life itself. I only wanted your happiness. I once saw a t-shirt that said something about love. I hope I remember. If you love him, set him free, if he comes back, he is yours. If he doesn't, it never was, or is it he never was. I set you free.

I sit here alone…knowing that I set my butterfly free. I will wait patiently to find out if my butterfly will fly back to me. I will wait with open arms. The seasons of our first journey have come and gone, but as seasons come and go and come again, I have hope the spring will come again. I know the cycle of harvest will bring forth new adventures, a lifetime of journeys, new beginnings, new middles, and new endings. I hope in time, we will again be restarting the cycle, the cycle of our love. Baby, don't you think it is time. Baby, don't you feel the springtime calling again. Baby, come back to me.