STAYING OR GOING: BOOK II: CHAPTER 8: 7 LIVES EXPOSED: IF ONLY YOU KNEW…

Lyrics: I must have rehearsed my lines/ A thousand times/ Until I had them memorized

But when I get up the nerve/ To tell you the words/ Just never seem to/ Come out right

Hmmm/ If only you knew/ How much I do/ Do love you

Oh, if only you knew/ How much I do/ Do love you

I dream of moments we share/ But you're not there/ I'm living in a fantasy

'Cause you don't even suspect/ Could probably care less/ About the changes I've been/ Going through

Oh, if only you knew/ How much I do/ Do love you

Oh, if only you knew/ How much I do/ Do need you

'Cause you don't even suspect/ Could probably care less/ About the changes I've been/ Going through

If only you knew/ How much I do/ Do love you/ Oh, if only you knew/ How much I do/ Do need you

Oh, oh if only you knew/ How much I do/ Do love you/ Oh if only you knew/ How much I do/ I do need you

Oh, if/ If/ If I love you, yes/ You don't know/ I said you don't know how much I need you, suga

Oh, I said you don't know/ That I love you/ And I will show I love you ***written by Gamble and Huff/ as sung by PATTI LABELLE

JUSTIN:

After we left the restaurant last night Brian and I silently decided that we needed space and distance. The revelations of the past evening, were anything but easy to hear. I have a past that Brian knew absolutely nothing about, even if he suspected. But even what he did know of it couldn’t possibly compare to hearing it from other sources, like Blake and Emmett. To say that I think he was experiencing the same level of shock and remorse as Ben was would be an understatement, even if it’s within a different context. 

For Ben, it was finding out the man that he thought he knew, he really had no clue about at all. But for Brian… it was finding out that his lifelong friend was in reality his enemy- his enslaver- from the very beginning. It was something that I realized, and stupidly thought that I could change in the early days of our relationship, or lack thereof. I figured that Michael would get the message that Brian was his own man, and leave him to live his life by his own rules and standards; I also figured that Brian would eventually see through all of Michael’s manipulations at some point and put a stop to them. He tried… many times, in fact. But Michael’s emotional hold on Brian blinded him to really see the man for what he has always been. 

Then the bashing happened, and unfortunately with that went my own bullshit detector for a while. It’s the reason that I mistook nefarious intentions for the proverbial olive branches I thought were being extended. It was during that time, when I was filled with so much hurt and anger at myself and the world around me, that whenever someone agreed with the awful things I thought about myself at the time, I took it as validation. It’s why the Ethan episode of my life happened in the first place. In a word, it was PUNISHMENT. 

But in fucking myself up to the point where I no longer recognized who I was pre-bashing, I inadvertently left Brian’s back open to attack by the most unlikely source. So here it is, the morning after those revelations, that I’m sitting in this red chair with my Ipod in playing this song with my notebook open while Brian occupies the other chair with his. Per the assignment Alex gave us before leaving the restaurant, we were to write letters to each other. Not an email, but an actual handwritten letter to get it all out without filter… somewhere where you couldn’t automatically edit yourself with the benefit of the backspace, or delete buttons. And the first thing I think about is how much I owe Brian an apology.

So I write:

Dear Stud,

The first thing I want to do is apologize. Of course, my regrets encompass a lot of things, but mostly the fact that I left ‘US’ for the first time a long time ago. I seem to have developed a pattern over the years of doing that. You called me on it once, before we sunk Vanguard, but I seem to have fallen into the same ditch again. It wasn’t conscious or intentional at the time… or at least I hope it wasn’t, but I’m not so sure of that right now. All I know is that I needed a break from my feelings. 

I was fucked up in ways that verbal communication was made to be impossible, unless I was yelling and throwing things and accusations at you that were clearly not your fault. Did you do things to piss me off? Sure. But you had always done that, so it wasn’t anything new and I’d handled it much differently. The same could be said about you in reference to me. 

But the real problem came when instead of speaking up, I checked out. Not physically, at first. But mentally and emotionally I wasn’t there. I tried to be… tried to find ways to keep me present, to keep me functioning at the level always expected of me, but I couldn’t. So everything that would have been like the drop of a pebble within an ocean, caused tidal waves within me to the point where I couldn’t control it. Ultimately, I allowed my unchecked anger to drown us both. And for that I apologize.

So now we’re here, in this place, once again trying to figure out what’s fucking us up. For my part, it’s that I’ve been checking out again. If I’m going to be honest- and I am- I will tell you that doing so the first time, is what really caused the Ethan situation. That’s right! It wasn’t anything that you did out of the ordinary; just me being the fucked-up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional creature that I was at the time. It was easier to blame you, because at the time, I couldn’t blame myself for making the biggest fucking mistake of my life. With Daph’s help, I was able to accept responsibility later on for us imploding, but right then I really couldn’t understand what was happening to me… only that I was angry all the time. And no, the opinion of a certain other did not help matters. Which brings me to the other thing I really need to apologize for.

I regret leaving you open to the emotional attacks from Michael and Deb. As much as I loved you, Brian, I still couldn’t find it within myself to defend you when they would say the most fucked up shit, both to your face and behind your back. I couldn’t offer you comfort, or reassurance, because I wasn’t able to even give it to myself. Use of my body was one thing- that was just physical- but I felt so fucking numb on the inside. And honestly, I didn’t want to be like Michael, who has the ability to fake emotions just to get what he wants. As far as I’m concerned, the only real times that he’s honest is in his hate of me, Blake, and Drew, but that’s a conversation for another time. This is about me and you, not him… and NEVER him again, although he has to be mentioned from time to time.  

Anyway, Ethan was a way to punish the both of us… me for being bashed and living half a life instead of dying, and you for loving me through it. And yes, I know now that you did- DO- love me, even if you wouldn’t say it to me in plain English at the time. I think that was the most troubling thing. I couldn’t read your actions anymore, I could only react to the lack of words. It never occurred to me that just as I was going through the bullshit PTSD brings, that you were as well, after having to witness the incident in the first place. In my own self-absorption, I couldn’t understand that. I needed you, but didn’t remember how to self-advocate in the ways that you would know how much I did. Just as you could be accused of sending me mixed signals, so could I. It was a constant push and pull situation between us, and if not completely my fault, then I still accept responsibility for my part in it.

So here is what I NEED: You, and all that means. 

What I want is your whole heart again, your time and attention. I want your emotions; those things that you can only feel but never put into words. I want to know you again, and for you to know me. Or better yet, I want us to get to know each other the way we never had the opportunity to before everything turned from sugar to shit. I want us to remember the issues we had that led to Ethan in the first place, and avoid those pitfalls. 

I want us to fight again, and fuck again, and LOVE again. But most of all, I want the times when it’s just us in our relationship; when WE decide, when WE talk, when WE work things out. There’s no room for a third in our marriage anymore, Brian. There wasn’t in the first place, but as I’ve stated before, you had no defenses against the Novotnys, and that was my fault. I had taken it as my duty and honor to watch your back from the morning after I met you, and I failed to do that. 

I won’t do so again!

I want to tell you that I love, and need, and want you more than I do my very next breath. I want to tell you how much you mean to me… but all I can do is show you those things from now on. If I’ve learned anything from you these past years, it’s that words without actions mean nothing. And I don’t want you to mistake anything I’m writing here as simple lip service, Brian. You are the most precious gift in my life. 

I could lose all of  the tangible wealth we have, but with you and your high regard, I would still remain a very rich man. 

So I’ll close this letter by saying that I know where we were, I know where we are, and now, I want to see what we can be. I need to know if we can ride or die together, if we can still fly together… if we can soar in the same direction again. This almost reminds me of those little ‘love’ notes kids pass around in class ‘Do you like me? Check Yes or No’. But if there is anything this letter idea of Alex’s has given me, it’s not only the feeling of momentary nostalgia, but a way to give voice to the things I dare not say aloud. 

I Love You, Stud,

Always, 

Your Sunshine

I look over the first letter I’ve ever actually physically written to Brian, wondering if I should add more now, or save it for another time. I guess it’s okay since it said all the things I need to say at the moment. Of course, throughout therapy, I will have to write more letters, expounding on the things we’ve talked about. But for now, this will do. The loud knock on the door interrupts the silence of the villa. 

Brian looks at me questioningly, but I just shrug. No one except Alex knows where we’re housed. Or at least, I hope not. Suddenly, I have a tightening in the pit of my stomach, thinking that Michael may have indeed found us. It’s the last thing either of us need. Shaking my head, as Brian crosses to the door, I gear up to light into him if he’s indeed the one disturbing our peace.

“May I help you?” Brian asks what looks to be one of the staff of the resort.

Handing Brian a letter, he says, “I was told that upon delivery of this, you would pay me for it.”

I stand up, that feeling of dread increasing by leaps and bounds within me. “Who told you that?” I ask before adding,  “We were under the impression that most of the gratuities would be added to your pay.”

“That’s true, but… well…”

“Well what?” Brian asks, eyes narrowing in impatience.

“The guy who asked me to deliver the letter told me that you would pay me for services rendered, Sir.” His voice had dropped down seductively, and there is no mistaking its meaning.

“Yeah, well you were told fucking WRONG!” I explode. “I can’t believe that small-minded motherfucker is trying to pimp you out AGAIN, Brian! I’m going to find him right now, rip his marble-sized balls off, and mail them to his fucking MOTHER!” I storm over to the delivery guy and push him out of the villa. “You tell the little rat-fink fucker that I hope he has a job for you, because Yuri I’m going to be sure that your bosses know just what you insinuated when you dropped that piece of shit’s letter off!” I slam the door in his shocked face, turning to see the same look upon Brian’s.

“Sunshine…”

“DON’T! If you’re going to stand there and defend that bastard, just save your fucking breath, Brian. I don’t want to hear it!”

Whatever his response was is cut off by another knock at the fucking door. This time I answer it. “What is it this time?!” The unsuspecting young man at the door seems a bit scared, and normally I might have apologized for my tone and stance, but I’m just too pissed off at Michael right now. 

“Are you Mr. Taylor?”

“It’s Taylor-Kinney, but what of it?”

He hands me an envelope and beats a hasty retreat out of my face. Brian comes up behind me, placing his hands upon my shoulders. I can feel each of his own fingers, barely managing not to grip them hard. “So what’s that?” he asks.

“I have no idea. Unlike you, I don’t have friends who don’t respect boundaries on this island. So chances are it’s from one of the guys.”

He lets my innuendo go… or seemingly so until he asks, “So why didn’t they call to let you know to expect a package? It’s not like your cell phone isn’t in your pocket. So you certainly would have felt it vibrate if they had.”

“What are you implying?”

“That I’m not the ONLY one on this island who has a friend on the island, who doesn’t know or respect boundaries.” He turns away then, and it dawns on me that this is exactly what got us into trouble in the first place. The option to remove oneself from the inevitable confrontation, rather than standing still and talking it out- or more accurately, yelling it out- is what got us back to the noncommunication phase of our relationship.

“Brian, don’t…”

“You already said that, and I’m not, at your request, remember? Or is that short-term memory loss beginning to assert itself once again?”

I feel like I’ve just been stabbed at the mention of that issue. It’s no secret that I had it as a result of the bashing, and that I still suffer from the effects of it from time to time. But to bring that up at a time like this… “That was low, Brian, even for you,” I say, fighting back the tears.

He sighs. “I know, and I’m… I’m sorry. I’m just so fucking angry that you would think…”

“Honestly, what do you expect from me? You do it all the time.”

“I used to, Justin. Past tense. Surely, you know that after all that’s happened this week alone.”

“I know, but… some habits are hard to break, aren’t they? I mean, look at us. We’re only a hair's breadth away from going to our individual corners to stew within our own thoughts again, without dealing with this. Is this…” I gesture between him and I, “...what we really want to return to?”

“No, it isn’t,” he answers. “But if we don’t, we could end up saying the things that really hurt, Justin. Is that what you want? For me to hurt you?”

“I want you to be honest with me. My reactions to what you say are MINE to deal with. Sometimes, I need the words, Brian. Tell me I’m fucked up, that I’m fucking up, that I’m wrong or right… just tell me SOMETHING, and let me deal with the fallout. If it hurts, then I have to deal with it, but at least I’ll know where you stand. Please, for the sake of us and all we mean to each other, say what the fuck needs to be said, Brian.”

I watch as he closes his eyes, instantly knowing that he won’t say anything now. It’s just Brian’s way to be silent until he knows exactly what he wants to say. It’s not that he’s giving himself permission, the way that I do. But that he’s really thinking of all the things he’s wanted to say but never did; the things that bothered him that we never talk about because he was afraid that it would hurt me to the point that I would leave him again. I didn’t realize the fear he harbored within himself that I would. 

But then I think about what happened since the incident at the restaurant. Brian and I have been living separately, even if we do own both the loft and the estate, and why? Because I couldn’t stay in the same place with him. As much as it had to do with Michael acting as if the loft was a revolving door, is as much as I just needed to escape from the mess of things me and Brian had been creating for a long time. And every time something goes wrong, I reinforce that fear, unknowingly or not.

I scrub my empty hand over my face, before moving over to where Brian is standing. Touching his abs and then traveling my hand up to his shoulder, I shake him gently. As he looks down upon me, I can see the turmoil and weight of this situation between us in his eyes. I return it even as I ask, “Have you finished your letter to me?”

“Yes. Half an hour ago, but you were still writing.”

I nod. “It took me awhile to get it down. I know I’ll have to write you another one later. But anyway, this is what I propose we do… You give me the letter from your…”

“Stalker?”

I snicker. “That would probably be an accurate description, but yes. And in turn, I’ll give you the one I have. We’ll open them in front of Alex, if that’s okay with you.”

“It’s okay with me, but why?”

“Because perhaps it’s just better that we do since we’ll be at therapy. It means that neither of us will be apt to walk out on the other without getting the issue resolved. I realize now that it’s a pattern with me; one that you’ve also picked up as well.” I snicker and then repeat that long ago phrase, “Grow some balls…”

Brian laughs aloud. “I think that applies to both of us now, doesn’t it?”

Instead of answering right away, I pull his head down to mine, bringing our foreheads together. But Brian has other ideas. The kiss begins slow and sensual, before taking a turn into a territory that we’ve only traveled once before. I can tell that he’s remembering the night when I came home smelling of another man, even while he tasted of copious amounts of Beam and cigarettes. It was perhaps the hottest kiss we’d shared up until that moment, but followed by several others. However, it is still one of the most memorable kisses he’s ever given me. So full of fire, passion, jealousy, envy, danger, and desperation, but most of all, rage and a host of other emotions we both couldn’t name or express. It was the kind of kiss that marked me, claimed me, then narrowed my world to where only he and I existed. Part of me longed to feel that type euphoria with Brian again, but the other dreaded it, because of all it meant. And for Brian it meant that his feelings of insecurity were back… but this time, I had the power to stop them before they had a chance to really take root.

Making a hasty decision, I pull back- almost regretfully- from the feel of him eating my mouth. “Stop.”

“Don’t wanna.” 

“I know, but…” He kisses me some more before I have to- regretfully- push him back a little more forcefully. Sex between us was never the issue. Brian and I could be deaf, dumb, and blind and our cocks would still crave each other. But frigidity is not the issue we’re facing. It’s everything else that’s threatening to spiral out of control again with the arrival of these missives.

“Brian, we’re due in Alex’s office in less than a half an hour. Or maybe we should just have him come here.”

“Here? Why here?”

“Because not only can we not run away, but I don’t want to have the specter of this morning still here when we get back. Let’s just resolve it right here, so that we can make some decisions in the place where we are going to begin again.” 

And I think he’s heard what I am really saying because he nods, and places another kiss upon my lips. “Fine, Sunshine. But afterwards, we pick up right where we left off?”

I smile brightly in the face of his half-demand, half-question. “Count on it, Stud.”

He smacks my ass and goes to grab his cell phone, while I gather the supplies for coffee and refreshments. Today is bound to be grueling. But by the end of this long day, hopefully a longer, strong-stroking night of uninhibited sex will be waiting for us at the end of it. Almost makes all of the drama of the morning worth it.