The Hound of God By: Edwin e.
Disclaimer: Do not read this if you are offended by stories involving male/male relationships, or in an area that prohibits your viewing of such material. This story is copyrighted to me, Edwin e, so don't reproduce it without my permission.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone (other than myself) is entirely coincidental.
READ: There is a little bit of Spanish in this story. For any non-Spanish speakers out there, an English translation follows in brackets. Peace.
Part VII: archangel of revelation
I wasn't completely happy before I met Dominic, but I got through things all right. When he and I were together, though it was only for a brief time, I was as happy as I thought possible. So I prayed and prayed that I could go back to accepting my old life now that he and I were through. But it didn't happen: like they say, it's not easy to go back to the farm once you've spent a night in Paris (Paris, France not Paris Hilton).
Everyday I would go to my room after school, turn on my computer and listen solely to "amores perros" songs - "love's a bitch" songs. My absolute favorite was "Fallaste Corazon" [Heart, you have failed]: A woman begins accusing someone of being selfish, haughty, and cold. She pokes fun at how this someone full of pride and verve is now begging for mercy and charity when it comes to love. She revels in his suffering, tears, and humiliation; and chastises him for betting so much in the roulette that is life. But then we come to the realization that she's not singing to a jilted lover: she's singing to her own Heart.
That's how I felt! My heart had failed me; although my mind was telling me that I had every right to be angry at what Dominic had done, my heart continued to ache for him. As hard as I tried, I couldn't forget him; and as much as I wanted, I couldn't forgive him. The contrary feelings were beginning to take their toll: I couldn't eat, sleep, or concentrate. I was becoming distant and irritable, angry and lazy. And I hated myself for not being able to just walk it off - for not having the ability to replace the walls Dominic had torn down.
As upset as I was at my inability to move on, I was even more disturbed by Dominic's ability to easily do so. At school he seemed fine - even happy. I would watch him during breaks as he laughed and goofed off with his friends; I slightly cringed when he placed his arms around girls causing them to giggle at the modest flirting.
We never talked or made eye contact. He remained focused on everything but me. Here was a man who claimed to have such strong feelings for me, and yet could move on from those feelings at the drop of a hat. I risked my self-control by pursuing a relationship with him. I let myself be goaded into the illusory idea that happiness can be an end unto itself - that everything would be worth being happy. And as a result, there I stood: irrevocably traumatized.
"PARA DE HOY EN ADELANTE/YA EL AMOR NO ME INTERESA/CANTARE POR TODO EL MUNDO/MI DOLOR Y MI TRISTEZA" [From this day forward/Love doesn't interest me/I'll sing to the entire world/My pain and my sadness].
Don't misunderstand: the bitterness I felt didn't cause me to want Dominic to be going through hell or anything like that. Sure I may be angry, but I'm not that vindictive. I just needed to know that what we had shared wasn't a trifle phenomenon - something that could be tossed aside and forgotten like ugly Birkenstocks. At the end of the day, everyone wants to know that they matter. Whether it's in the context of family, friends, faith, work, or society at large, every human being holds this same necessity. But that's not vanity; it's just a natural consequence of our lonely humanity. I want to matter. Or better put: I wanted to know that I had mattered to Dominic.
It wasn't until mid-February, or the Monday after the Valentine's Day weekend to be exact - that Dominic's happy-go-lucky nature began to wane. I don't know if it was the "holiday" that brought about a change in his mood, but he came to school a much somber fellow. Coincidentally enough, it was around the same time that I finally learned to mask my own feelings - learned how to walk around school, town, and home with a smile on my face convincing everyone that things were peachy; all the while concealing a broken heart. It may have taken almost three weeks since the implosion for me to fake a sense of normalcy, but better late than never, right? Never let them see how much you hurt.
As much pain as I was in, I didn't want to be alone. Of course the only person I could turn to was Gabriel. It would have been foolish of me to think that he could be conned into believing that I had suddenly turned upbeat - especially since he had been by my side in the three weeks I wallowed in self-pity. He knew not to try and figure out what was bothering me, so he spent our time together joking around and distracting me from the hurt. And when I was with him, I felt a lot better; I really, really did. He could help me forget.
So when we had a rare teacher in-service day a week after Valentine's Day, Gabriel and I decided to hang out and watch movies. I love weekdays without school - they're just so relaxing, ya know? We went to the local video store to find some suitable films we could watch at his place. The sorting system at the store was some crap so we split up and went down different aisles to track down the movies. I hate asking people for help so I just kept scanning the movies row by row. I probably should have paid more attention to my surroundings because I accidentally bumped into the person next to me as I continued my way across the aisle.
"Oh I'm sorry," I said, very embarrassed. I hate being clumsy - especially in public.
"It's okay," Dominic responded. The instantaneous recognition of his voice caused me to stop and look at him.
"Oh God," I mumbled. Being this close to him was weird. We had done a pretty good job of avoiding each other for weeks, yet on the one weekday we had off of school we happen to run into each other. My pulse began to quicken and I could feel the oncoming nervous sweat. Then my head started to hurt and I started feeling somewhat nauseous.
"This is kind of awkward isn't it?" He asked very softly after a brief moment of silence.
"To say the least... A-are you okay?" I asked noticing that he seemed very unsteady. He was very pale, and his face looked rather gaunt; he was still freakin' hot, but he looked ill.
"Y-yeah. Look, Edwin, I really need to talk to you," he began, his weeklong melancholy evident in his voice. "There's so much that I have to-"
"Hey! I got the movies," Gabriel exclaimed as he made his way back to me. Upon seeing Dominic, Gabriel became slightly less cheerful but still very polite. "Oh, hi Dominic, how you doing?"
"Um, I've been better. How about you?" He asked with genuine, yet subdued sincerity.
"I'm okay," Gabriel responded. "So I got the movies," he said, turning to me.
"Yeah, okay. We should go then," I said, trying to collect myself. Gabriel headed off to the cashier to pay while I began to follow him. But Dominic took hold of my arm.
"I NEED to talk to you," he reiterated.
"I'm sorry Dominic but I can't talk right now," I said softly as I went to meet Gabriel at the front of the store. As we finally headed out, I couldn't help but look back at Dominic. While he paid for his movie, his eyes continued to gaze at me intently, reinforcing my nausea as I rounded the corner and lost sight of him.
As Gabriel and I walked closer and closer to his house my unease continued to grow. There were a few moments when the queasiness forced me to slow my pace and use one of Gabriel's shoulders for physical support. I'm sure he must have sensed something, but he continued with our conversation as if nothing was wrong.
I hadn't been prepared to see Dominic. God! I missed him so much. That minor interaction at the store was sure doing a number on me. I figured a part of it was just a dose of unresolved anger. After all, I never really got a chance to vent after the fact. It's not too surprising if some (okay, maybe A LO T) of residual anger could bubble to the surface after talking to him for the first time in three weeks. But after a couple more minutes walking, I realized that something else was going on, something apart from anger: there was a hint of hopeful despair creeping into my emotions and my thoughts.
Despite all the anger, the betrayal, and my overall obstinacy, I wanted a happy ending. I was hoping that Dominic and I could still work things out - that I could somehow get over my issues and make peace with him. If you're a prisoner of hope, of course you're going to be wrestling with despair. Goethe's right (at least I think it's Goethe... ah, who the hell knows): he or she who has never despaired has never lived - we have no idea what it means to be human if we've never wrestled with despair. And so long as Hope and Despair continue to hold hands, it comes down to our sense of engagement to determine which of the two will have the last word. As we walked into Gabriel's house and headed for his room, I feared that due to my present state, my agency wouldn't be enough to hold onto Hope; that owing to my own faults (which I still couldn't overcome), the specter of Loneliness would continue to shadow my days.
"Are you okay?" Gabriel asked once we made it to his room.
"Um, yeah-yeah. I'm fine... I'm okay," I said, trying to refocus. He just stared at me as if deciding whether or not to call me out.
"How about you tell me what's wrong," he finally said after taking a deep breath. "And don't try to feed me bull about how you're doing fine cuz it's kinda obvious that you're not," he continued with a tension-breaking smile on his face. He sat down on his bed while I remained standing near the door.
"I appreciate your concern, but I don't really want to talk about it," I told him.
"Look, I know it's kinda hypocritical of me to ask you to open up when I wouldn't do the same before. But to be honest, I don't care," he replied with another smile. "I worry about you and I don't mind getting in your face about it. So come on - just tell me something."
"Well... I guess... The thing is..." I stammered as I slowly paced in his room. Not finding the words (or the strength to find the words) I stopped pacing and gave him a small smile and shook my head; as if letting him know that he wasn't going to be getting the info he desired.
"Hmm. Okay," he continued, realizing he had hit a wall. "Let's start off a little less broadly. Tell me what's going on between you and Dominic." Whoa. Direct hit.
"What makes you think there's anything going on between us?" I asked with a hint of fear.
"Well it's kinda obvious, man," he chuckled. "You guys seemed to be becoming fast friends and now you don't speak to each other. Don't get me wrong: I'm not the biggest fan of the guy, so it doesn't bug me that y'all don't hang out. But I'm guessing it kinda bothers you."
"We just had a bit of a falling out," I finally conceded.
"Why?"
"Well, that's not really relevant," I smiled to him. "Bottom line is that we're both kinda pissed at the other." I took the movies from the bag and went about getting everything set up, hoping to bypass anymore talk.
"Okay, okay. Let me ask you one more question and then we can watch the movies. Deal?" He asked. I sighed an agreement and put the movies on his desk before plopping down on the beanbag chair directly in front of him.
"Forget the reasons for the falling out. Just tell me: why does it bother you so much?" He asked as he reclined on his side and used those eyes of his to make me feel more at ease.
"That's a little complicated," I answered as I rolled my head back with some playful frustration. "I don't think you'd understand."
"Try me," he responded comfortingly. I remained silent for a couple of seconds trying to find a way to express some of my feelings without touching on the fact that I was gay or that Dominic and I had been in a relationship. So I started off giving him a brief synopsis on my views of friendships: how crucially important they are to me, especially close ones. And just as in everything that's pleasing, it's better to have more than one.
"I think I get what you're saying," he interrupted. "Good friends are like pillars - the more of them there are, the more they'll hold up. I guess the more people we matter to, the better we feel, and the easier life feels."
"Exactly!" I said, delighted that he understood me. "Like you said, Dominic and I became fast friends, and really good friends at that. And it felt nice to be close to you and to him; especially when your grandmother died and you kind of drew back."
"Yeah," he whispered softly. "I can see how Dominic probably helped you a lot during that time."
"He did," I sighed. "So that's why it disturbs me that he and I aren't friends anymore. It's like a step back, ya know? I'm grateful for having you, and it's probably selfish of me to want more, but I can't help it," I said as I got up from the beanbag and walked to his desk to get one of the movies. I was pretty content at my not having had to lie too much to him.
"You're not being selfish," he said as he turned and sat up in his bed. "There's nothing wrong with wanting a little more out of life."
"Ha, whatever," I replied with a smile.
"You're too negative, Edwin," he said as he stood up and reached for his wallet from his back pocket. He opened it up and sifted through all the junk before pulling out a small piece of paper. "I keep this quote from Nelson Mandela in my wallet cuz it always makes me feel better. You should heed it: 'Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, "Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?" Actually, who are you not to be?'"
"That's nice," I said, as I lowered my eyes a little.
"You deserve a lot, Edwin. You may not think so, but you do," he said as he put his wallet away and took a few steps in my direction. When he stood by my side, he stretched out his arms toward me.
"Whoa," I started, causing him to stop. "What are you doing?"
"I was going to give you a hug," he said with a confused smile.
"Why?"
"Because you look like you need one," he responded. I chuckled at my defensiveness just before he hugged me. With his being an inch or two taller than me, his arms wrapped themselves over my shoulders a bit, though I could still easily reach around his torso. After a second or two, I tried to pull myself away (I was getting a little turned on), but he wouldn't let me. He kept a relatively tight hold on me - not necessarily forceful, just enough to let me know that he didn't want to let go just yet. So I rested my head on his shoulder a bit and closed my eyes. Even with my eyes shut, I could tell the room had gotten darker: a wayward cloud had taken a stand in front of the sun, allowing only an obscure light through the window.
"Hey Edwin?" Gabriel whispered without breaking the hug.
"Yeah?" I whispered back. We parted just a little, as he looked me in the eye.
"Do you remember at my grandmother's wake when you said you'd always be there for me no matter what?" I nodded. "Did you mean it?" He asked with loads of anxiety.
"Of course I did Gabriel," I smiled. "Why would you even ask me that?"
Without answering he lowered his head a bit and kissed me on the lips. I opened my mouth in order to protest, but he wasted no time in filling it with his tongue. For whatever reason, I acquiesced to what was happening - though only for a brief moment (I blame the shock). As I pulled away and took a couple of steps back, one thought came to mind: as great a kisser as Dominic was, Gabriel was significantly better. Even so, I looked at him with a fair amount of shock, thinking he was going to apologize.
"What?" He asked innocently with a small smile on his face.
"What do you mean 'what'?" I exclaimed. "Y-you just kissed me!" Silence. "Oh God, Gabriel are you gay?" My question, though pretty much answered by his actions, probably made me sound like a phobe, which would explain the look of annoyance on his face.
"Yeah, I am,"
he replied with a certain confidence I found interesting. "Aren't you?" He asked in an accusing tone. Okay, there is most definitely a glitch in the matrix: this reeks of deja vu.
I sighed one of those potent sighs: acknowledging that the universe had gotten the best of me.
"How did you know?" I asked in a resigned whisper. He took my hands in his and sat me alongside him on his bed.
"I never suspected, if that's what you're asking," he began. " In the two years we've been friends, you've never given any hint that you were into guys. But I've always had a thing for you, so I kinda always hoped against hope. And just now..." He stopped.
"Just now, what?" I asked pleadingly at him. I was terrified that I had somehow outed myself while discussing Dominic. If that was the case, then I may have inadvertently let Dominic's secret go too - something that I could never forgive myself for.
"But the woody you sprouted when we hugged just now kinda gave you away," he smiled. Oh man did I blush! I was hoping he hadn't noticed my sudden arousal during his embrace. Just leave it to my dick to betray me. At least Dominic's secret still remained safe. Gabriel put his arm around my shoulder while he chuckled at my embarrassment. But I stood up and began pacing again.
"I guess we should talk about this, huh?" I asked pensively.
"Actually, I was kinda hoping we could full around for a little while," he answered while his eyes followed my pacing. I was amazed at how he could remain annoyingly cheerful while my unhappiness at this new turn of events seemed obvious.
"You're not at all freaked out by this?" I asked incredulously. He simply shook his head, though his smile was now gone. I couldn't help but begin rambling quietly to myself. "This is great, just great. I like you for years and now that I finally accept the way things are, this shit happens. And this doesn't freak you out! Why should it freak you out? I mean you probably see nothing wrong here, right? Goddamnit, why am I always the only realistic one!" He stood up and tried to get me to stop pacing. He eventually gently pushed me down back onto the beanbag chair. Now he had my attention.
"Edwin," he said quietly as he looked into my eyes while kneeling next to the chair. "I know this is serious, and shocking, and awkward. I don't want you to think that I'm insensitive to that, cuz I'm not. But I made peace with my feelings involving you weeks ago. That's why I stayed away from you after the wake. I wanted to tell you so bad that I was gay and that I cared about you so much. And Amanda-"
"Oh, God," I said, suddenly interrupting him. "Amanda! She's going to be so hurt by this!"
"No she's not," he said reassuringly, though softly. "I came out to her before we started 'dating' last year. I needed someone to talk to, so I told her everything. Her parents are always trying to set her up with these real right-wing Christian kids from her school. But since they really like me, we figured we'd pretend to date in order to get them off her back while also making sure no one ever suspected me."
"How deceptive," I said, a little surprised at the elaborateness of the lie. "You guys seemed so perfect for each other."
"I agree," he replied. "She and I'd be great together if she didn't have the one thing I can't stand."
"And what's that?"
"A working vagina," he answered. That got a big smile out of me. "But as I was saying: Amanda thought I should just tell you everything and let the chips fall. But I didn't want to risk losing you. After wrestling with my feelings for weeks, I found a sort of peace: I figured I'd just take things one day at a time and just be happy with however much of you I had. Believe me, I know this isn't easy; but I'm not going to hide my excitement. I'm just as shocked as you, yet why should I care about that now that I have hope? I want you, and you just said that you wanted me. You gotta take a step back and realize that's a good thing. Hell, it's fuckin' miraculous!"
His excitement was almost infectious. Almost.
"Gabriel," I began seriously. "If we had had this conversation before the school year started, I'm almost positive that we could have worked something out. And I don't doubt that we could make each other extraordinarily happy - even now. But unlike you, I haven't made peace with anything. I'm... I'm just a big mess right now."
Though this entire situation wasn't necessarily as hard as I would have expected, I could feel the damn holding back my emotions begin to strain. And the last thing I wanted was to turn into a blubbering idiot in front of Gabriel. So I stood up and prepared for my departure. He seemed to get the hint; he got up and faced me, placing his arms on my shoulders as we rested our foreheads against each other, both looking down at the ground.
"I understand," he said with remarkable calm and empathy. "Just remember that I'm always here for you too. I'll be here - no matter what resolution you come to." He walked me to the front door. When I turned to say goodbye, he smiled and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I walked out of his home and headed to mine, squinting as the freak cloud finally decided to let the sun shine unabated.
It took two days for me to adequately analyze the situation with Gabriel. My feelings for him never really died, even when I was with Dominic. For two years I kept my feelings for my best friend in a cage, only allowing myself to stare at my angel of revelation. I had constructed the cage myself, but Gabriel had placed the lock: his presumed straightness. Heterosexuality is one barrier that my heart doesn't even bother to quibble over - there's nothing I can do about who someone naturally prefers, right? And then Dominic came along and placed another lock on the cage. But now Gabriel had completely obliterated the original chain. However, I still had overwhelming feelings for Dominic - feelings that could not be snuffed by my continuing resentment at his betrayal. Yes, I cared about Gabriel; and yes, the reciprocity of those feelings on his part made me want to pursue something with him. But my heart remained loyal to Dominic, and I can't just betray that. One lock remained.
Of course understanding the situation and my feelings doesn't make it easier to accept. It was still hard for me to have to juggle all of this crap - Dominic and now Gabriel, plus the requisite duties of a normal high school kid. Although the next two days at school went rather smoothly between Gabriel and me, I felt wretched not being able to please him the way he wanted - the way he deserved. Sure we talked normally and smiled at each other frequently throughout the day, but he had to have known that I was still tormented.
That Wednesday after school, I went to the one place that always made me feel substantially better: church. Some people think that I'm this crazy nut because I like going to church and stuff. Or worse, they think I'm conservative! I'm conservative, and well, the jury's still out on whether or not I'm a nut. Nevertheless, whenever things get too tough, I always head to church and do some heavy duty praying. Over the years I established an odd routine in terms of which prayers I said, the order in which I said them, etc, etc. It's definitely personal and time-consuming, but that's the point of prayer, right?
I felt much more relaxed as I got off my knees and sat back on the pew. Despite someone rustling behind me, I closed my eyes and relished the inviolability of the place. But I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone whispered something in my ear. I was so zoned out that I didn't hear what they said, so I turned around. Dominic was sitting directly behind me, still looking rather shitty.
"What are you doing here?" I asked quietly.
"I told you I needed to talk to you. I've been calling and calling but you don't pick up your cell," he responded. In fact, I had shut off my cell phone for a few days because I didn't feel like talking to Dominic or Gabriel. "I called your house and your mom said you were here." I didn't want Dominic to bring me down, at least not in the church, so I motioned him to follow me as I headed outside. We sat down on a bench on the sidewalk just to the left of the church entrance.
"So why do you pray so much?" He asked just as I was about to question him.
"What?"
"Inside, I asked you why you prayed so much. I was sitting behind you for a good 45 minutes waiting for you to stop... So why do you pray so much?" he asked again. He gave me this look that told me he really wanted an answer - that he wasn't just making small talk. I sighed.
"Um, I believe that in order to lead a good life - notice I said a good life, not necessarily a happy life - one ought to have two traits in abundance: humility and sacrifice," I began tenderly. "I guess I feel that prayer is an ultimate exercise in humility. It's taking time out of my life to stop and acknowledge that I don't have all the answers and that I need help. It's a hard thing admitting that we have foibles and flaws, that we're fallen. It's important to have some time to humble oneself and ask God, or the Universe, or Buddha, or Fate, or whatever you conceive Him to be, for help."
"And what if He doesn't answer your prayers?" Dominic asked with such solemnity. I turned my head and looked at him.
"That's hardly the point. What's important is that we take the time to ask, and He takes the time to listen; anything else is secondary," I said.
"And what about sacrifice?" He continued. I slightly chuckled as I gently put my hand on his knee for a second and stared ahead at the flower shop in front of the church.
"I sacrifice plenty in my life," I whispered. We sat there in silence for at least two minutes. That may not sound like a lot of time, but when it's spent in absolute and horrific silence, you realize it's a whole lot. The wind began to pick up slightly, though it wasn't too cold just yet.
"Isn't it hard for you to be Catholic, you know, being gay and all?" Dominic asked. I stared at him; his topics of conversation seemed much too random and irrelevant to what was going on between us.
"What are you doing Dominic?" I asked as I put my gloves on and prepared to leave. "There's no need to talk about this stuff." He placed a hand on my shoulder and made clear that he didn't want me going anywhere.
"I'm just curious how you cope loving something that seems to not love you back," he said with certain bitterness.
"That's not fair," I responded, hurt at his inferences. "You know how I feel about you."
"I'm sorry. That was too harsh," he sighed.
"Just tell me what you want. You came here for something so just spit it out," I told him.
"I-I can't just yet," he said, not being able to look at me. "I'm asking you all these questions because I'm nervous and I'm trying to get the balls to get to the real point." He did seem awfully uneasy. "But I still want you to answer me; when it comes to people like us, Catholics just seem so..."
"I know, I know," I interrupted, as I took his challenge. "With gays, they have this reputation as being so full of hate: seething with venom and brimming with indignation and Easter eggs." I wasn't trying to be funny, but Dominic chuckled nonetheless. "It's hard sometimes. But having faith in anything is supposed to be. Every religion has its flaws; you find me one that doesn't and I'll find you a purple unicorn." Another chuckle.
"I'm not asking this to be a jerk, but... how DO you cope with investing so much of yourself in something that seems to... not always work out for you?" He asked carefully. I waited a moment to make sure that he wasn't trying to take another dig at me.
"You keep your eyes fixed on the message, not the messenger," I continued once convinced of his sincerity. "Every religion, from the oldest to the nuttiest, has a simple message behind it; one thought that's expressed in a myriad of prophetic forms: every single person, without exception, is of such infinite worth - we are all shining stars. The idea is the same throughout; it's just a matter of how we want it presented to us. Theologically speaking, I'm drawn to how the Catholic Church deals with it. Sure, sometimes the message gets muddied or forgotten, but that's where faith comes in: I know that I am loved by Someone out there. For anyone (even the Church) to treat me with disrespect or hatred just because I'm gay is to deny my inherent worth - to ignore the very Image in which I was made; it's to spit in the very face of God. And as long as I understand that, I'm okay."
"You know, I really like the way you talk about this stuff," he said as he kept his eyes focused on the pedestrians on the sidewalks. "Religion was never a passionate issue in my family. We just went to church out of habit or some sense of moral duty. I could never really get into it - at least not in the way you've seemed to. I don't know, I guess I just always felt so bitter that everyone perpetuated the thought that being gay is a sin."
"It's definitely tough," I nodded. "I understand why so many people, gay or straight, can be turned off by religion. If they can get through life without its presence, then more power to them. But I can't. I need to have faith in something greater than the world around me. And it's hard for me when even the Princes of the Church or the Vicar himself says something so contrary to what I believe. But there's a quote I read somewhere by some monk that usually gets me through those times of doubt: 'I don't always know what the right thing to do is, my Lord, but I think the fact that I want to please you, pleases you.'"
"If only it was that easy with people," he suggested as he finally made eye contact with me.
"If only," I agreed. More moments passed in silence. "So... will you please tell me what you want?" There was a nervous tremor about him - a chill that scared me.
"I came to confess my sins," he said delicately.
"Then you're a little early: confession's not until tomorrow."
"I came to confess to you," he smiled slightly.
"Oh," I said. I thought for a second before continuing, "Well, I think you should stick with a priest; I can't offer absolution."
"I'm not really looking for forgiveness. It'd be nice to get it, but I just needed to be honest with you," he countered.
"Honest about what?" I asked. He took a deep breath.
"I'm so very sorry for what I did," he began, speaking more to the wind rather than to me. "Even though my intention was never malevolent, it was still wrong of me to out you. I tried to tell myself that I did it for us - to remove the barriers that kept us from being totally happy. But I was really just thinking about what I wanted."
"I know," I said simply.
"But when I saw your reaction, I got so angry," he continued. "I felt so slighted that you couldn't understand - couldn't give me the benefit of the doubt. Because I swear to God, I never meant to hurt you."
"I know that too, Dominic," I sighed.
"I can't even tell you how angry I was. It was just so... strong," he said with eyes shut. "Anger's tricky like that I guess - it can make you see things that aren't there, or believe things that aren't true. For weeks I thought I was happy without you; I thought I could go back to how life was before this all started and just forget about what I felt for you. And like I said, my anger made it all possible."
He paused a moment to reflect on something. I didn't want to interrupt him, so I just waited until he was ready to continue.
"I went to this Valentine's Day party in Sac," he continued shakily. "It was just some college party I heard about. I figured I'd check it out since everyone else I knew had plans. It was pretty cool - lots of people and a whole lot of booze. So I started drinking and just walked around, not really knowing what to do next. There were these girls there who kept flirting with me for a good while, but I kept trying to shake them off. Eventually they got the hint and left me alone. And then one of their friends, this guy, came up to me..." He stopped. A sudden pang shot through my heart.
"I don't like where this is going," I murmured as I began fidgeting in my seat. He still wouldn't look at me, but the corners of his eyes revealed guilt.
"I HAVE to get through this," he whispered vehemently, though
more to himself than to me. "This guy came up to me and apologized for his girl friends - I guess he saw how uncomfortable they made me. We sat down and just started talking... and drinking. Before I knew it, we had talked for a good hour. As the party died down, it was pretty clear that I was in no condition to drive home - but to be honest, I probably would have. But Jonathan, the guy, suggested we could go to his place and I could drive home in the morning. I didn't even hesitate..."
"Why are you telling me this?" I interrupted abrasively. My stomach suddenly felt very empty - like I hadn't eaten in days. Even so, I felt the urge to throw up. And there was a loud clanging noise going on in my head. But I kept my urges in check while maneuvering myself on the bench in order to make sure he was looking directly at me when he answered my question.
"Because I've been a wreck since that night," he answered fervently. "Everything I had felt the weeks prior - peace with our breakup, happiness without you - was just angry self-delusion. God, Look at me! I look like shit! What I did was so wrong, but keeping it to myself has been killing me; I feel so goddamn guilty."
"Well how very Raskolnikovian of you," I shot sardonically. "But now you're killing me." It's a shame Dominic wasn't a Catholic: we've learned how to deal with guilt - after all, we practically invented it. The clang became louder and more disconcerting. Overwhelming sadness and despair suddenly came upon me - like a slap to the face. It took more strength than I had to keep from crying. Tear followed tear, but I was determined to leave before he could really see me sob.
"Edwin, please don't go!" He pleaded quietly. He took me by the arm and somewhat forcefully pulled me back to the bench. He may be in a weakened state, but he was still stronger than me. "Please, just stay a little while longer."
"Fine," I resigned, partly because the goings-on in my head distracted me from what he said. I gathered everything I had to remain composed.
"There's no denying that I've fucked up everywhere along the way," he said miserably. "Even this... this probably wasn't the best way to tell you - if I should have even told you at all. But I'm trying to somehow make things right." His head fell and his body slumped in its seat. But he continued in a sort of whisper. "I know I won't forgive myself for a long time to come, but I have to find the bright side to all this - otherwise I'll be lost. It may have taken a chance encounter with a random guy to help me reinvigorate, or just re-realize my feelings for you, but I see things so clearly now: I love you; and it's not a love typified by pithy or venery, but one of... cosmic majesty, I guess. I wanted you to be my first; and I'm so ashamed that it had to be with some guy at a party. But there's no one else I'd rather be with than you - there can be no one else."
We both sat in a rather stunned silence. I had no words with which to respond, and I think he had spent all his. The power of eloquence is just that - powerful. Maybe if the stars were aligned better I could have found some comfort in what he said. But a dejected soul cannot be consoled by mere words - no matter their beauty or the amount of sincerity. But there was another problem: the incessant clanging in my ears reached a piercing level as soon as he admitted his transgression; it was the sound of a lock falling.
"I should go," Dominic said though he remained seated. He turned to me, the first signs of tears beginning to show in his eyes. "I want to work things out between us, but I don't want to hurt you anymore. That's why I'm being honest with you; how can there be forgiveness without honesty? And we both know there can be no future without forgiveness." He suddenly reached out and gave me a hug before whispering in my ear: "I do love you." Not even waiting for a response (though I was in no position to offer one) Dominic stood up and walked slowly away - very unsteady.
Out of pure reflex I took my iPod from my pocket and searched through my songs. I finally found the one I needed to listen to - the most beautiful song I've ever heard, in any genre. How ironic that the most beautiful song I know is also one of the most depressing. I clicked on "Crucifijo de Piedra" [Crucifix of Stone] and forwarded it to the second half of the song:
"FUE BAJO DEL CRUCIFIJO DE LA TORRE DE UNA IGLESIA/ CUANDO LA LUNA NOS ALUMBRO/ YO LO ESTRECHE ENTRE MIS BRAZOS CON GANAS DE DETERNERLO/ PERO EL ORGULLO ME LO IMPIDIO/ YA SOLA FRENTE A LA IGLESIA Y LLORANDO ANTE EL CRISTO/ FUI A IMPLORAR/ AL CONTEMPLAR MI TRISTEZA/ EL CRUCIFIJO DE PIEDRA TAMBIEN SE PUSO A LLORAR" [It was under the crucifix of the church/ When the moon illuminated us/ I reached out my arms to stop him/ But pride got in my way/ There, alone in front of the church and crying before Christ/ I began to plead./ While contemplating my sadness,/ The crucifix of stone also began to cry."
I stood up. Instead of heading home, I began my journey to Gabriel. I didn't really know what to do, but I knew enough to go to him. I didn't know what to feel either. I wanted to listen to Emerson's directive - "Trust your emotion" - but I didn't know which emotion to trust; too many feelings were streaking through me: red anger, blue melancholy, green envy, and of course, the white of hope. Deep down I wanted to somehow figure out what the high road was and take it... But another Emersonian axiom reverberated on the surface: "I also am a man."
The steps to Gabriel's house became quicker. I needed him to be home.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Author's notes: Sorry for not updating the story sooner: I got severely ill a few weeks back - I thought it was SARS, or West Nile, or SIDS, but my doctor said it was just a really bad flu. Anyways, by the time I got through it, my well of encouragement/inspiration (y'alls emails) dried up, leaving me without the motivation to continue quickly. But I was able to finish, whoo-hoo! I do have to provide some context for this chapter though: some of the dialogue was inspired by a recent argument I had with one of my close friends. I guess I used this forum to vent a little and counter him (which is kinda funny because he'll never read this haha). So if some parts feel odd, that's probably why (or it's becoming clear that I can't write). Anyways... I hope this chapter satisfied. Any faults, well, let's blame them on the delirium and my friend. Take care everyone! Please write me, I'm lonely! ;-)
edtimoria@hotmail.com