I was told a million times
Of all the troubles in my way
Tried to grow a little wiser
Little better ev'ry day
But if I crossed a million rivers
And I rode a million miles
Then I'd still be where I started
Bread and butter for a smile
I'm trapped in my head. Do you realize this? Some days I just want to scream at you for not seeing that I'm not all here. And then I think that maybe you do see and you like it that way. You can't really know me and like me this way, can you? But maybe I'm just the best actor ever; maybe life really is one big game of pretend. Maybe it's supposed to be.
There's nothing really wrong with me, other than that I think there's something wrong with me. I am not beautiful in my eyes. Do you understand me? I have loved like a child, and growing into a man only means I put aside my illusions. My childish things were many, but the greatest were hope and belief. I know love. I just don't remember when it didn't hurt. And I don't...I'm not romantic. I don't believe love is out there for everyone, because sometimes we're cowards and we don't take it. Life doesn't have second chances, not always.
So, the fact is I've had more than my share of chances that I didn't fully pursue. Out of fear, mostly. Out of martyrdom and out of laziness. I don't like pain, but I like control. I'm afraid of losing control. I mean, look. I totally wasn't in control at all the first time I loved. And I know he didn't set out to intentionally hurt me and I know it's nothing that hasn't happened to a million other people. But I don't trust any more. I don't trust me. I don't trust me not to hurt other people. I need to be forgiven. And I don't deserve it, because I didn't really do anything wrong. But since then-- since then it’s all me.
Well I sold a million mirrors
In a shop in Alley Way
But I never saw my face
In any window any day
I could be this fantastic, beautiful thing, and I'd still feel the way I did when I was fourteen. See, you know that inner beauty does not make people stop and give you a chance. Being a wonderful person does not make someone come up to you and try. Being lovely in your mama's eyes does not give you the courage to go say hi at a party, in the parking lot or in the school hallway. Being good only gets you somewhere if you look good too, and being worthy doesn't get you anywhere when life hasn't given you the confidence to go with it. And the only people who want me like that, I'm their backup plan. It’s nice to be considered, but sad that I'm not anyone's great passion.
I'm learning to do what I wanted to do all my life. I'm fully qualified, really. I'm here! I'm ready to go! But why? I don't know where to go from here. I don't see a climax to my life in the future. It's so stupid. I could live forever, if I could just let go of the hope for hope.
Someone once told me that a heart murmur used to be called a romantic heart. There must be a reason I was born with one. I've got the romance there, I guess. I just filter it through my jaded head. And I think I will soon-- let go of hope. I think it's almost here. I'm pretty sure that it'll be the last thing I do. Give up hope. I'll be waiting for my prince to rush to the rescue until my eyes close. And then I'll know I'm the only one who can save me. And I don't love myself that much.
* * *
The pages crackled when he set them on the fireplace of his suite. He burned his fingers, but didn’t realize it until JC said something the next day. Lance mostly thought it was a good thing he’d finished all the books for his companies. E-mails involved less typing. Joey burned his fingers on a bagel and it was a giant tragedy that required Chris Kisses to fix. Justin rolled his eyes and proclaimed that Chris had cooties. There were 15 minutes of good, hard chasing. And they got on the bus and started another day.