Last Goodbyes

Thu, 13 Jan 2005 01:47:41 GMT

Title: Last Goodbyes
Story Rating: G, or maybe PG
Pairing: Benji/Joel
Summary: Benji can't take the fact that he's been using Joel this whole time, just when he finally starts to believe he has feelings for Joel.. he thinks it's too late to repatch anything. Standalone.
Disclaimer: Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Too bad.
Dedication: densemind, for being my Beta.

+

Hello world, can you hear me? I feel so lifeless trapped in this body that was once full of life and love. It's depressing how I find myself always waiting around for something to satisfy me, when I'm never truly satisfied. This anxiety is eating away at my hollow chest. When I'm happy it's slow and almost painless, but at points in my life when it's like this, huge chunks are being taken away at rapid speeds. He was my object of affection, everything I've ever admired. Decisions have never been so hard for me on that one night when I knew I had to get up and leave.

I couldn't bear hearing him cry out his emotions to me for this long, and me being a lifeless bastard never giving him the affection I know he deserved. I'd use him; make believe that something was to come out of us. The next day I'd turn around, call him a pervert... tell him he was full of sin for ever loving his own brother in this way. Like a circle, how the line never stops unless it's broken apart. I stepped off the trail and wandered into boundaries I know he didn't want.

It must have been painful for me to use him, and then judge him. To blame all my mistakes on him because I'm so self considerate I don't care about the people I love the most. How could I apologize for my actions, when I don't even know why I did them in the first place? How could I tell him how much he truly means to me, without him thinking that it's just another hoax?

I could stare at his sleeping form for the rest of my life, if only it was that easy rather than chickening out and running away from him. He looked so comfortable, appearing to be a tired angel. His tattooed arms wrapped around his pillow tightly, sheets almost begging to be torn off his naked body. His head was facing the other side, which I was so thankful for. Seeing his face would rip me apart inside, as if I wasn't already dying. It's funny because as much as I want to leave, something inside of me is begging me to delete all indication of these plans. I have to leave. All I bring to him is hurt, but he still comes back to me because for those moments in time when he’s in my arms, he thinks it’s real. Not till recently have I found out that those moments were actually true, and no wonder he held on.

I can't just fix something that’s been so deeply dug into a never ending hole. I might as well bury myself alive, which is my plan of action. To leave this apartment, like my last breaths were locked in them as only a memory.

The whole room smelt of his cologne. Teasing myself, I sniffed so I could admire it once more. This same smell was the smell of his body, no matter how much he would sweat during our sessions of love, to him... and lust, to me. Now I want it, I'm craving it. Sad thing is I know he can't go on living like the slut that I've turned him into.

I've come to realize he's the only one I want to love for the rest of my life. Maybe someday I'll come back, hoping he'll take me into his arms like he used to when we were younger, when I'd actually open up to him about my feelings, which was rare. So this is just a break, a long break. That I can call our final goodbye. When we do reunite, when he takes me into his arms, it will be in the heaven of forgiveness, if only he could take me back down here, on this earth where I've created a living nightmare for him. Which I highly doubt will ever happen.

Everyone will hate me: the fans, the media... but it's not like they haven't picked me apart already. I wouldn't even be surprised if my closest friends and family hold some type of grudge against me for this emotional rollercoaster I have caused. It doesn't matter about the people who hate me and the people who love me, though. The only opinion that truly matters to me is his, and I destroyed any hope of him believing in me.

He came to me every time I called, because deep down he needed me. Wanted me. He couldn't resist that he could actually have me at some point in his life.

I was disgusted in myself, I couldn't cope with the fact that I fell for my own brother. It didn't seem to bother him whatsoever, which I suppose that it was that feeling deep down inside of me that would tingle and give me a sudden rush whenever I was around him. We were no longer brothers, but lovers.

"Do you mean it this time?" He asked, gripping my hand with affection.

"Of course I do! I was stupid every other time. I love you. I just never tell you enough, or just how much I mean it." I replied, lacing my hands into his own clammy ones, him leading me into the back room of our luxurious upper-class D.C. house flashing an innocent dream-come-true smile.

I knew it was the last time I would speak to him face-to-face. The last time I would tell him I love him, so that was the last time I could see the smile break across his lips.

I dragged my feet over, aware that I should be cautious of making no noise. The mattress sank beneath the weight I was forcing under my knee that had pressed against it, leaning down I shifted his long, black bangs away from his eyes and kissed him one last time on the lips, memorizing the sensation that sparked within my own, breaking apart.

"Until we meet again, Joely." I whispered, getting up and exiting as quietly as I entered, dismissing any thought of him waking up. Now my imagination is the only place where Joel appears to be my object of affection, although the only thing I can focus on now is clearing my vision through these transparent tears that continue to fall as I say my final goodbye to my one and only.

If we can make this,

Last Goodbyes