(no subject)
I've been asking for a story for a little while now, so I guess in a way it's appropriate that one found its way to me. It's a short story, about a life lived in shadow, though honestly that's being a bit poetic with it.
I knew this guy once. His name was Tom. He was a pretty normal guy. He dated a few women in his lifetime, fairly successfully. He liked to write, and to make movies. Things were going pretty well in his world until his girlfriend at the time, Jessica, an absolutely beautiful chick, told him that he was gay, and that she was pretty sure that she was, too. Now Tom didn't think so much about it at the time--he didn't necessarily think that she was wrong, but he wasn't quite ready to believe that she was right. He broke up with that girl, though they still were friends, and one day she called old Tom up and invited him to a party she was throwing.
It was there that Tom met John. Tom had had a couple glasses of wine, John had had just about the rest of the bottle, and they spent all night out on the balcony talking to each other. They talked about nearly every topic imaginable. Religion, Irish guilt, their families, the latest movies they'd seen. Boring meaningless crap that was only really fucking interesting because--you guessed it, our boy Tom had a crush on John. He didn't keep in touch with him--like I'd said before, Tom wasn't quite at ease with the whole situation yet, and he sure as hell wasn't fucking ready to consider that John could like him, too. The whole idea was kind of impossible to Tom.
So life moves on, and Tom's old ex gets herself a girlfriend. We'll call her Cathy. Cathy and Tom, as well as Jessica, are in stressful careers, where their image matters. Jessica and Tom, though they still love each other, are way too fucking incompatible to work anything out, so Cathy and Tom start to pretend they're dating. For the image. This works out great for Tom because he can keep grilling Jessica on how his little infatuation John is doing. Tom find out that John has this journal thing, and Tom starts watching it. Soon, this infatuation becomes something more. Tom starts to dream about John. Tom starts to write to John, though of course he never sends any of it. Tom starts to love John. All of this, of course, is being played out as Tom watches John go through his own life. The ups and downs of his highly stressful, image important career, and the ups and downs of his love life. Tom finds out that John is gay, or at least bi. He watches John fall in love with another man--a man that isn't Tom, and that's when the jealousy hits. The jealousy becomes overwhelming, soon Tom isn't sleeping so well, he doesn't eat like he should, he's working too hard. All those things that humans do when they want to destroy themselves. And soon he starts to see the same things in John--and Tom realizes something. John isn't happy. John's boyfriend, though bless him I don't think it was out of cruelty, doesn't see what Tom sees in John. He doesn't see the depression.
Around John's birthday, he talks about giving up. Now Tom is already a little fucked up from the jealousy, and from unrequited love itself, so he takes this to the extreme. He thinks that John means giving up on life. Tom finds out where John's going to be on his birthday. He goes there. He's all set to find John, and even if he's not ready to tell his whole story yet, well, he's at least ready to distract John. To give him something to look forward to. He finds John, he doesn't approach him, but he's close enough to see that John is, well. Happy. This isn't what Tom expected, and he's fucking devastated by it. He goes back to his hotel room, drinks himself into fucking oblivion, and then the next day flies back to his fake little life with Cathy. Overwhelmed with emotion, and not the slightest bit of alcohol, Tom and Cathy slip up and they sleep together. Irish guilt slips in, along with the growing idea that they'll eventually need to do this, or face more questions about their private lives, and they get married. Though the marriage is fully for show. Life goes on, only Tom is lonely. Extremely fucking lonely. He goes back to reading John's journal, and guess what. Through projection or whatever, he starts to see the same signs again, the same emotions in John that are inside of himself.
So Tom gets radical, and he makes himself a journal. Tom and John talk and wow, guess what. Tom gets even more radical and he tells John how he feels about him. John likes him too. So now Tom feels like a bit of an idiot for not saying something in the first place. He's about to feel even worse though because guess what--in the one time they slept together, Cathy has gotten pregnant. Somehow, John takes this news with relative grace and doesn't get mad at Tom about it. So Tom and John are happy, and all because Tom finally got the fucking balls to speak up for himself. He should have done it long before then, but it doesn't matter because it's perfect now.
The End.
Enough of junk like that. It looks like Joe's going to get called to Prague soon and I will probably be following him. It's really kind of a shame, I'm too American to admit it, but England's really grown on me since the time I've been here. We'll get back soon enough.
I knew this guy once. His name was Tom. He was a pretty normal guy. He dated a few women in his lifetime, fairly successfully. He liked to write, and to make movies. Things were going pretty well in his world until his girlfriend at the time, Jessica, an absolutely beautiful chick, told him that he was gay, and that she was pretty sure that she was, too. Now Tom didn't think so much about it at the time--he didn't necessarily think that she was wrong, but he wasn't quite ready to believe that she was right. He broke up with that girl, though they still were friends, and one day she called old Tom up and invited him to a party she was throwing.
It was there that Tom met John. Tom had had a couple glasses of wine, John had had just about the rest of the bottle, and they spent all night out on the balcony talking to each other. They talked about nearly every topic imaginable. Religion, Irish guilt, their families, the latest movies they'd seen. Boring meaningless crap that was only really fucking interesting because--you guessed it, our boy Tom had a crush on John. He didn't keep in touch with him--like I'd said before, Tom wasn't quite at ease with the whole situation yet, and he sure as hell wasn't fucking ready to consider that John could like him, too. The whole idea was kind of impossible to Tom.
So life moves on, and Tom's old ex gets herself a girlfriend. We'll call her Cathy. Cathy and Tom, as well as Jessica, are in stressful careers, where their image matters. Jessica and Tom, though they still love each other, are way too fucking incompatible to work anything out, so Cathy and Tom start to pretend they're dating. For the image. This works out great for Tom because he can keep grilling Jessica on how his little infatuation John is doing. Tom find out that John has this journal thing, and Tom starts watching it. Soon, this infatuation becomes something more. Tom starts to dream about John. Tom starts to write to John, though of course he never sends any of it. Tom starts to love John. All of this, of course, is being played out as Tom watches John go through his own life. The ups and downs of his highly stressful, image important career, and the ups and downs of his love life. Tom finds out that John is gay, or at least bi. He watches John fall in love with another man--a man that isn't Tom, and that's when the jealousy hits. The jealousy becomes overwhelming, soon Tom isn't sleeping so well, he doesn't eat like he should, he's working too hard. All those things that humans do when they want to destroy themselves. And soon he starts to see the same things in John--and Tom realizes something. John isn't happy. John's boyfriend, though bless him I don't think it was out of cruelty, doesn't see what Tom sees in John. He doesn't see the depression.
Around John's birthday, he talks about giving up. Now Tom is already a little fucked up from the jealousy, and from unrequited love itself, so he takes this to the extreme. He thinks that John means giving up on life. Tom finds out where John's going to be on his birthday. He goes there. He's all set to find John, and even if he's not ready to tell his whole story yet, well, he's at least ready to distract John. To give him something to look forward to. He finds John, he doesn't approach him, but he's close enough to see that John is, well. Happy. This isn't what Tom expected, and he's fucking devastated by it. He goes back to his hotel room, drinks himself into fucking oblivion, and then the next day flies back to his fake little life with Cathy. Overwhelmed with emotion, and not the slightest bit of alcohol, Tom and Cathy slip up and they sleep together. Irish guilt slips in, along with the growing idea that they'll eventually need to do this, or face more questions about their private lives, and they get married. Though the marriage is fully for show. Life goes on, only Tom is lonely. Extremely fucking lonely. He goes back to reading John's journal, and guess what. Through projection or whatever, he starts to see the same signs again, the same emotions in John that are inside of himself.
So Tom gets radical, and he makes himself a journal. Tom and John talk and wow, guess what. Tom gets even more radical and he tells John how he feels about him. John likes him too. So now Tom feels like a bit of an idiot for not saying something in the first place. He's about to feel even worse though because guess what--in the one time they slept together, Cathy has gotten pregnant. Somehow, John takes this news with relative grace and doesn't get mad at Tom about it. So Tom and John are happy, and all because Tom finally got the fucking balls to speak up for himself. He should have done it long before then, but it doesn't matter because it's perfect now.
The End.
Enough of junk like that. It looks like Joe's going to get called to Prague soon and I will probably be following him. It's really kind of a shame, I'm too American to admit it, but England's really grown on me since the time I've been here. We'll get back soon enough.