Why

Why? Part 2

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. It contains characters whom you may assume to be real-life people, but this is fantasy and in no way is to insinuate anything about any person, living or dead.

God I'm sick. I feel sick. Physically sick. And here comes the crying again. Why won't it stop? Why do I feel like this?

With him there--breakfast felt like it used to. God, I felt so good. Just being near him. Seeing him laugh and smile and chew. I felt wonderful then. And that was ten minutes ago. I just keep reliving the thing over and over--over and over. I'm so tired of all this. Is this what I'm going to do all day? Just hear these words over and over? Joey's question. Josh's answer.

"What's everyone doing today? Anyone want to try and get around Soho with me without getting mobbed? Might be able to do it there."

"I'm, um, busy."

What was said after that? I can't even remember. Nothing more from Josh. I can't believe I went into such numbness that I didn't even hear them talking to me. Yelling at me. "No, um, I don't think I want to go."

But what am I going to do? Sit here and think all day? Relive this little scene over and over and over and over and over all day? Making myself crazy--oops, too late for that! Crazy was a while ago, I think. I should get out. Should go someplace.

"Hey Joey. You still going to Soho?"

"Yeah. Lance and Steve too. You want to go?"

Yeah, this is a group I want to spend time with. "Yeah, I think so." Has to be better than sitting here alone. "When are you leaving?"

"Like fifteen. You able to do that?"

"Sure." Just have to make sure you can't tell I've been crying. "Sure. Your room in fifteen?"

"That's cool."

"Thanks."

Yeah, thanks. One version of hell or another? I guess one shared with other people is better than one in solitary.

"Hey Justin--you decide to come along?"

"Yeah--that okay?"

"Of course, why would you ask that?"

"No reason--sorry Lance." Guess I'm getting a little defensive. I have to remember how close we all used to be. What's different? Me? I guess. Probably mad at these guys sometimes when it was really about other things. I know they try. I know they work hard. I know they care about the group. We're just different--different in how we show it or how we do it. I guess also different in what we want out of it. Josh understands. Or I guess it's just that Josh and I think the same way--want the same thing--want music to be our life--and want it to be better and better all the time. Not settle.

There's nothing wrong with Joey and Steve partying all the time. Just because I don't want to. Can't stand the thought of it. Even if Josh was there. Just not interested. But what am I going to do from now on? If Josh is "busy," do I just go to bed? I'm going to be the best rested person in the world.

"Justin . . . Justin? You with us?"

"Huh?"

"You were like in another world or something. You okay?"

"Oh yeah--no problem Joe." I really have to stay conscious or I'm going to get run over on the street. "How we getting downtown?"

"Um, we just talked about that Just. Two cabs? From the service entrance. You and me in one, okay?"

"Sure Lance, no problem. Sounds good." Just follow Justin. Just go through the motions. Follow out the door. Follow into the cab. Try to follow the conversation.

"Justin, what's the deal? You are on another planet."

"No, I'm fine. I'm fine."

"We may not be as close as you and JC or whatever, but I'm not blind or stupid. I can tell you aren't yourself."

"I'm okay. But thanks."

"Yeah, you're all right, sure. You look like you are about to start crying at any moment. You look like you're barely holding on. You look like you are in pain. Like I said, I'm not JC, but you're a friend of mine, Justin--a good friend. I'd like to be there for you."

Don't cry Justin. Don't cry Justin. Don't cry Justin. I'll just stare out this window. Can't let this cab driver have something to sell the tabloids. Do I talk to Lance? Do I tell--oh God, I must have jumped a mile. He touches my leg and I jump like a crazy person. Oh yeah, I AM a crazy person, I remember.

"Can you turn right at the next street? We've decided to go to a different place."

What's he doing?

"Yeah, this corner is good. Here you go--keep the change."

He doesn't have to push. I'm getting out. "Aren't we meeting the other guys?"

"Do you really want to?"

I don't know if I can stand for Lance to see me like this--or see through me like this. "No, I guess not."

"Then let's just walk down this way some--it looks deserted. We can sit on some steps or just walk or whatever. Maybe I'll be lucky enough that you'll trust me and tell me what's really going on. If not, we can just walk or sit and not talk."

God, he's being so nice--exactly what I need. How does he know I need this? Can I talk to him? Can I tell him? Could he possibly understand? Or would he just think I need to get over it--go out to some bar with him--find someone for the night or whatever. I can't do that. I just can't.

"You feel like sitting a while?"

"Sure." The way I feel I don't even know if I'll really tell a difference, but it's probably safer for me not to be moving.

Is he really going to just sit here quietly? Did he really mean it? That we didn't have to talk? I wonder what HE's thinking about. What does he think about? Who does he think about?

"Lance, I really appreciate this. I know I'm lousy company--not even really company just sitting here not talking."

"Justin, you don't have to talk. We can just be quiet together."

"If you want to go meet the other guys, I'd understand."

"I don't really believe you want to be alone--do you? And I don't think I want you to be alone."

"Thanks . . . Why? Why are you doing this?"

"Huh? What? You think I don't care about you?"

"NO. No, it's not that . . . it's just . . . "

"Just that we've not talked much for a long time--or maybe ever?"

"No. Well, I guess. I guess when the group breaks up, it's almost never you and me, huh? You and Joey, you and Josh, you and Chris, but almost never you and me. Not sure why that is."

"Me either. But I always have considered you my friend. And--"

"Oh, me too--I didn't mean that . . . "

"That's okay. I guess we just seemed to have different things on our minds. But maybe this is our chance--our chance to get to know each other a little. Maybe I can be a friend to you today."

I have to answer that--it was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. But if I raise my head, he'll see I'm crying. If I answer, he'll hear it in my voice.

OH--that hand again. On the shoulder is even better than on the leg. Maybe he really does understand--or wants to.

"I'm really sorry Justin. I know you are in pain. I wish I could take it all away from you. Not even you can make it disappear all at once, but I bet if you talk about it--share it--it'll get better. I remember from some church camp once, this thing about worries and stuff--they probably called them 'burdens'--these things weigh us down. But if we 'offer them up' as they'd say-- give them to God. I know, this all sounds too religious--sorry."

"No, no. It sounds good."

"Well, what I was going to say is that even if you don't share them with God--that a faster, and maybe better way to share them is with friends. Talk to friends. Tell them about how you feel. It's like some of the pain and stuff can move from you to them. They can carry some of the weight for you. And I guess I'm offering to be that for you. If that doesn't sound too weird."

God, he's like some angel come to save me or something. "It doesn't sound weird at all. It sounds really nice--for me; not sure what you get out of it!"

"Maybe just the pleasure of helping someone. Helping a friend. Maybe on some level it's as mercenary as thinking that maybe you or someone else will be there for me someday when I need it."

"I'm not sure I can do this." I have to look at him--at least; have to raise my head.

"Hey. Wasn't sure I'd see your face." What a nice smile--I think I even gave a little one back. Yeah, Lance is definitely God's angel today.

"Do you already know what's upsetting me? I guess I'm not nearly as hard to read as I thought. Least that's what Brit tells me."

"Well, Britney is one of your best friends--best friends can usually read each other."

"But do you know?"

"I don't think I want to play a guessing game--not about this--not when you are feeling like this. That okay?"

"Yeah, it's just that I've never talked about it to anyone--except Brit--and that was just last night. And she did most of the talking; I just didn't deny anything."

"Well, I guess I'll play the guessing game enough to ask you one question--are you dealing with something I've dealt with? That I deal with?"

Forget the angel, this is getting tough. "Um, I don't know for sure. But I think maybe. But it's not nearly as much about that as it is about something else."

"About being in love."

God, I almost hurt my neck jerking my head toward him. I must be as transparent as a just-washed window.

"Yeah, thought so."

"Um . . . um . . . " What do I say to this?

"Dealing with being gay can be tough." He used the word! "But it can't compare with dealing with being in love. Least I don't think so. But probably dealing with both at the same time--each for the first time--that's probably about as bad as it gets."

I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this.

"Justin, it's okay. I'm not telling anyone anything you say to me. I'm not going to judge you or think you are someone different from who you were yesterday--except that maybe I'll respect you more for your honesty and appreciate you more for trusting me. I've had a couple crushes, but I don't think I've really been in love yet. And even if I had, it would be some kind of short-term thing. Not something that's almost ten years old."

Is there anyone who can't just read my brain like a book?

"If I'm pushing too much or making wrong assumptions, just stop me, okay."

"Yeah, I will--if any of those things happen." Glad I can make him laugh a little.

"You want to talk or is that left for me to do?"

"I'm trying--really. It's just not something I'm comfortable doing. It's new. I mean--pretty much talking about anything is new to me--at least anything that's really real, you know?"

"Yeah, I know really well. Been there, done that. Or maybe it's AM there, AM doing that. And AM trying to change."

"Yeah? So maybe we aren't so different after all?"

Why's he laughing so much? "Did you think we were? Were so different?"

"Sorry--sorry! I didn't mean for that to sound bad. Did it? I'm really sorry."

"No--no! It's okay. But probably explains a lot. I mean, I think we probably are a lot different from each other, but I think we still have similar feelings--probably almost everyone in the world has these feelings sometimes, you know?"

"I guess. It just seems like we've always spent our time so differently and stuff. I don't know."

"No prob."

"Thanks."

"So you want to talk about this new girlfriend of JC's or not?"

"You really like to cut the shit, huh? No wonder all that business stuff is so easy for you."

"That didn't answer my question."

Do I? Do I trust him? Will he tell Joey? Chris? UGH! Steve? NO! Please! "Don't take this wrong . . . but are you going to tell anyone else about this?"

"No Just--I'm not. I can keep things to myself."

"Oh, I didn't mean to say you talk--I'm sorry, Lance. I'm just scared, you know?" Gosh, I don't want to lose the one person I can maybe talk to.

"I know."

"Thanks. I guess it's just like a shock on lots of levels. I wasn't expecting it, you know? I mean, I know I'm a child and naive and all, but I still had that dream that Josh and I would one day find ourselves someplace alone and it would just happen-- we'd just be together. I know it's stupid and childish and crazy and living off in fantasyland, but that's all I've had in that area, okay? Fantasy. And I never wanted to even think of anyone else. I couldn't have if I had wanted to--I couldn't be interested in anyone but Josh. I mean, I've been in love with him for as long as I can remember. He's my best friend. My best music partner--no offense. The one I could talk to. And perfect and beautiful, and I'm really an idiot, huh? CanNOT believe I'm admitting all this."

"Doesn't it feel better to admit it? I mean I figure you've been holding all this in for what? Eight years? Whew! You're stronger than me, Just!"

"It wasn't always like this--I mean, the sex part--I can't believe I just said that. But you know what I mean. And really, even though I imagine the sex part would be nice--yes, it's just imagination for me--the best is just spending time with him. Just feeling like he's mine. And will be mine forever."

"And now this Erika chick comes along."

"Yeah, where did she come from? I didn't know he was looking for someone. I just felt like I was hit by a truck. I mean, I know I was deluding myself, but I just was bouncing along feeling like everything was great and would never change. What an idiot."

"Not an idiot. You were just happy and didn't want to mess with it. Anyway, who knows what will happen with this girl--it might not last. He might just be trying to prove something to himself-- and the rest of us."

"Prove something? Brit said that. What do you mean?"

"Prove he's into women."

"So you think that has to be proved too? Brit did."

"Um, yeah . . . but that may just be me."

"Apparently not. Do you and the other guys talk about Josh and me? Speculate? Or whatever?"

"Well, when I started openly talking to Joey about me, the conversation just kind of went to you two too--and we just speculated a little. Sorry--I mean, it's not like we were breaking any confidences or anything--I'm not going to talk to him about this. Sorry if you didn't like being talked about--we all do it, right? Not supposed to be mean."

"So what was the speculation?"

"They weren't definite--but suspicions were high for both of you. You can only claim work is more important than anything else for so long--I mean, everyone wants love--or at least sex."

"Did you think we were together?"

"No, but we thought you should be--and maybe would be someday. We even talked about it and how it might affect the group."

"Gee, I've really been asleep, huh?"

"No, you've been working hard--for all of us--and you've been growing up--and you've been enjoying time with JC. Nothing wrong with any of that."

"God, I'm crying again. Hope there aren't any telephoto lenses in any of these loft windows! Or mics! But thanks Lance--I'm sorry-- sorry I never realized . . ."

"Realized I might be able to help or able to understand?"

"Yeah."

"That's okay. I wasn't sure if this was going to work either. I'm glad it did though."

"Me too. Me too. I like having someone I can talk to. You'll just have to let me know when you get too tired of it all."

"Oh, I will!"

Gee, it feels nice to laugh.

"Let's go check out some stores!"

"Yeah!"