Date: Fri, 25 Feb 2005 17:24:08 -0800
From: edtimoria@hotmail.com
Subject: The Hound of God part 7

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