Sometimes I just think...
Sometimes you just think what?
Sometimes I think it would be easier to be with someone positive...
Those words floated in the air, becoming tangible things as they took form in Michael's mind. They hung there in the middle of the room, separating Michael from his lover in more ways than he could count. In more ways than he ever thought were possible. The distance between them, in that moment when words became weapons of mass destruction, was unfathomable. There was a silence that enveloped the room, as the words took on the form they would hold for him from now on, as they swung back and forth over him. He remembered stepping back slightly as if he'd been struck. Something deep down wished it had been a physical blow. Then he could reconcile it in his brain and his wounded heart as just the rage. It wouldn't be his Ben; it would be the twisted part of Ben's fear, mutated and urged on by the drugs that was doing it. But it had been Ben; it had been his words, his pent up feelings, his frustrations and his gnawing resentful anguish of not being everything he wanted to be. His fear of what could happen to Michael in the heat of the moment, one slip and he would condemn the man he loved to this festering pit in the hottest spot in hell. Of not being able to be a father, of wanting it more desperately now that he knew Michael was going to be one. It was Ben laid bare before him, open and bleeding to death.
There was a thudding ache that seemed to pulse through Michael's entire body. It started slowly at the soles of his feet, then traveled upward with such merciless slowness as to rub raw every nerve ending and burst every blood vessel on its journey. It was a pain so intense it made him blind, deaf, and dumb. It paralyzed him momentarily as if movement were a foreign concept - as if pain and suffering was all there ever was in the world and he was just now being reacquainted with that unruly yet constant fact of life - as if he were just now awaking from a dream believed in too long. And as he wept for himself and the oceans of pain washing over him, he wept more so for Ben, because he was drowning. Ben was one of the men Michael read about in all in those stories, reaching for anything offered to him in order to save himself, knowing all the while that there was nothing on this fucking earth that could save him, not even love, of which there was an overwhelming abundance. But he had to make the attempt because he wasn't ready, nor was he willing to walk silently into death's goodnight. And so there they stood for what seemed like an eternity in a silence so thick it could be seen, touched and tasted. Connected more intimately than ever before in their pain and separated in light years by their destiny. Time seemed to stand still, and then all of a sudden it moved with the speed of a shooting star streaking across the night sky. And he was locked in Emmett's old bedroom. He was sitting on a bare bed, which was to him appropriate because he felt as bare and desolate as the bed looked. And he wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear. He wanted to vanquish those words, and that look in Ben's eyes from his mind. And he found himself being beaten back by them. He found himself being defeated by them because he had no defense. What could he say? He was never really going to understand what it was like to be in Ben's skin, or his Uncle's for that matter. He wanted to understand. He wanted to be able to say something that would be a balm over the wound in the middle of Ben's life. Michael wanted, more than he wanted his next breath to be able to hold him and make him feel safe.
Over the next week, those words swung in Michael's head like the rounded, razor-sharp blade of a pendulum. With each swing, it came closer and closer to him. Even though he knew it was coming, and even though he knew if he wanted to, he could get out of its way, something stopped him. Something had broken and was, to his mind, beyond repair. He searched desperately for an answer, like a man dying in the desert searches for water.
At first, it started in the very back of his mind...not even an idea - just a vague form floating shapelessly and silently around the edges of his consciousness. It took form one night when Ben came home from yet another night spent at the gym. And as usual, Ben was horny; the steroids had increased his sex drive by leap and bounds, which was saying a hell of a lot. It had been two days since he let Ben touch him that way. It wasn't a punishment, just a feeling of Ben touching a raw nerve. But this night he let Ben have him, and there it was. This reckless thought...this inescapable idea, formless at first, but now manufacturing features, recognizable and deliberate in its appearance. As Ben thrust into him, smothering him in kisses, calling him baby, sweetly in his ear, Michael wanted, actually willed the condom to break. Then it would be over, he knew. When it was over, and Ben rolled off of him and kissed him tenderly on the mouth and Michael was sure he was sleeping, Michael rolled over and cried silently. He lay there motionless, not fully knowing if the tears were because he'd had such a fucked up idea, or because the damn condom had held.
Then the daydreams started coming fast and furious. He found himself losing time at work, at home, when he was alone, and when he was with Ben, which was the same as being alone at times. It would take a customer coming into the store and asking him a question more than once for him to snap out of it. He realized that he could have been robbed or hurt because of this, but that didn't seem to matter. Once, Brian came into the store and Michael hadn't even noticed. Brian said he'd been staring into space for a good five minutes with him calling to Michael before he snapped out of it.
What's going on Mikey?
Nothing.
Bullshit.
What'd you come here for?
Do I need an excuse?
No. But you usually have one.
I wanted to see if you wanted to come out with me to Woody's tonight.
You could have called.
I could've, but I wanted to see you.
Why?
You know why.
I'm fine.
No, you're not.
Yes, I am.
Mikey...
I'm handling it.
You shouldn't have to.
Don't.
Mikey.
Don't. Please.
What Ben's doing is dangerous.
Brian.
No. You could get hurt.
You have no fucking idea.
Did he.
NO!
But he could.
And I could walk out of here and get hit by a fucking bus.
Don't say shit like that.
It's true though.
Michael if you need a place to stay.
I have a place to stay.
You know what I mean.
Yeah, I know what you mean. But I'm fine, Brian.
Who're you trying to convince?
I haven't decided just yet.
Mikey?
Yeah.
If something happened, you'd tell me right?
We're not kids anymore Brian. We don't have to tell each other everything.
Not everything. Just the important stuff.
Everyone grows up Brian. Everyone..
"If I Had It All"
Dave Matthews Band
Sometimes I can't move my feet it seems
As if I'm stuck in the ground somehow like a tree
As if I can't even breathe
Oh, and my screams come whispering outAs if nobody can even see me
Like a ghost, sometimes I can't see myself
Sometimes, then again, ohIf I were a king
If I had everything
If I had you and I could give you your dreams
If I were giant-sized, on top of it all
Then tell me what in the world would I sing for
If I had it allSometimes I feel lost
As I pull you out like strings of memories
Wish I could weave them into you
Then I could figure the whole damn puzzle out
Then again, ohAnd if I were a king
If I had everything
If I had you and I could give you your dreams
If I were giant-sized, on top of it all
Then tell me what in the world would I go on for
If I had it allI could take anything
If I had no greed to bring
Only the poison that's tainting the clean
Oh, then nothingRemembering times much younger than me now
When my breath was light
When the world raised me up kindAnd here mother comforts child
Every moment was waking up
But now I've grown tired... outIf I had it all, you know
I'd fuck it upIf I were a king
If I had everything
If I had you and I could give you your dreams
If I were giant-sized, on top of it all
Then tell me what in the world would I sing for...If I were a king
If I had everything, piece by piece
If I had you if I could give you your dreams
If I were giant-sized, on top of it all
Then tell me what in the world would I go on for
If I had it all
If I had it allIf I had it all
Sometimes I just think.
Sometimes you just think what?
Sometimes I think it would be easier to be with someone positive.
Ben's mind swirled savagely as the words took form and moved with a will of their own past his lips. He saw them hanging there like some sort of accusation, rebuking him, judging him, tormenting him, and killing Michael. He hadn't meant to say it. He didn't want to say. However, since Paul's death, he'd been feeling it more acutely than ever.
But now, looking into the quivering brown pools of Michael's eyes, those words having struck him more fiercely than any blow, he saw not only the violence in those words, but the impact of their implied betrayal on such a small frame. Ben wanted, more than anything, to take them back...to put his arms around Michael and erase everything but the love - the love that was there, had always been there, would always be there. Ben wanted to explain to Michael that part of the reason he was doing this thing to himself was because he wanted to stay healthy as long as he possible could for him. Ben wanted to reach across the few inches that separated then and pull the smaller man to him and never let him go.
Then he realized that Michael had stepped back a little - that there was so much pain welling up in Michael that he seemed as though he'd burst at the seams and Ben wouldn't be able to put the pieces back together again.
Five-almost six years ago-Ben didn't even know there was anyone out there by the name of Michael Charles Novotny, let alone that he'd be with him or love him as much as he did now. He didn't know that he was going to be standing here in this room, trying to find a way to take the pain out of his lover's eyes. Pain caused by him. He didn't know that he'd want to spend the rest of his life loving and being loved by the man standing only inches away from him. Had he known, he would have been more careful for both their sakes.
None of this was Michael's fault, and yet Ben couldn't help but pour it out onto him. There was no one else; Paul was dead. When Michael finally stepped back and turned around, heading towards Emmett's old room, it was as if the sun had gone out of the sky suddenly. There was nothing left but the feeling of biting cold.
He slept alone that night, if sleep is what it could be called. The bed was so empty without Michael in it. It was as if the bed would come to life and swallow him whole. He got up several times walking across the living room and sitting outside of the closed door that led to warmth, love, Michael. He sat there, his head and hand pressed against the door, willing it to open...knowing that Michael was sitting on the opposite side, knowing that Michael wanted to come out and hold him. But something in Michael wasn't ready. The pain was still too fresh, too new, and hurt too damn much for him to open the door. So they sat like that for a while. Then Ben heard Michael get up, and so did he. When he finally gave up hope of holding Michael that night, he went back into the bedroom they shared and held Michael's pillow close to him, burying his face in it. He didn't sleep, but a sort of unconsciousness blanketed him in the deep haze of black that let his body lose all sense of time. When he opened his eyes a few hours later, Michael had already been there and covered his half-naked form with a blanket. The small gesture made him weep uncontrollably. In his weeping, he asked himself two simple questions. What the fuck was he doing? And was he strong enough to stop before he pushed away the one person on this earth that made being HIV-positive bearable?
It was a couple of days before Ben felt like he could touch Michael again...like he even had the right to ask. When he finally did touch Michael, felt Michael's skin warming under his touch, and Michael's body begin its slow intoxicating melt into him, it was like the sun coming back into the sky. Ben felt warm again. He felt safe. Michael, always a generous lover, gave himself completely to Ben, but there was something desperate in Michael's eyes that Ben didn't recognize - something wild and begging. It was only there for a moment and then was gone. And while he was still inside Michael, he forgot all about it. He relished the touch of the smooth alabaster skin, the moans of delight, the molding of his body around Michael's. He delighted in the way Michael gave of himself until there seemed there was nothing more to give, and then suddenly there was this abundance of love, desire, lust and need. Ben found himself in that place he loved most in the world. He was sweetly and deliciously drowning in Michael. He was dying and being reborn, with every thrust of their bodies.
It was only after they'd finished making love that Ben realized that Michael had withdrawn into himself. It was so quick Ben didn't know what was happening at first. Then, when Michael thought he was asleep, Ben heard him, choking back silent sobs. He was struggling to stay still so as not to wake Ben up. Ben just lay there with his back to Michael, his eyes closed, biting his lower lip, and listened to his lover weep.
"Weathered"
Creed
I lie awake on a long, dark night
I can't seem to tame my mind
Slings and arrows are killing me inside
Maybe I can't accept the life that's mine
No I can't accept the life that's mineSimple living is my desperate cry
Been trading love with indifference yeah it suit me just fine
I try to hold on but I'm calloused to the bone
Maybe that's why I feel alone
Maybe that's why I feel so aloneMe.I'm rusted and weathered
Barely holding together
I'm covered with skin that peels and it just won't healThe sun shines and I can't avoid the light
I think I'm holding on to life too tight
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
Sometimes I feel like giving up
Sometimes I feel like giving upMe..I'm rusted and weathered
Barely holding together
I'm covered with skin that peels
and just won't it just healThe day reminds me of you
The night hides your truth
The earth is a voice
Speaking to you
Take all this pride
And leave it behind
Because one day it ends
One day we die
Believe what you will
That is your right
But I chose to win
So I choose to fight
To fight