Broken, but not destroyed...

Last time I posted, I told y'all about how I had talked to Brad about what had been happening, not happening, etc. and asked that he remember that I was his friend after all, and to call me once in awhile. As sincere as he sounded when he said he was sorry, by Saturday night I still hadn't heard anything from him. I tried as best I could to brush it off, and went out with some friends to a bar.

After we'd been there for about an hour, Brad walked in with his cousin and brother. I was kinda shocked to see him there, considering he had quit drinking, but I soon found out that he was the designated driver for his two drunken relatives. I walked up to him and asked if he'd come outside for a cigarette with me. He said yes, and we went out to the front balcony where no one ever goes unless it's summer. We weren't out there maybe 3 minutes, just starting to have a conversation, when like 7 or 8 people came out onto the balcony. That ended our conversation, so I just walked back inside.

After a few hours had gone by, and Brad hadn't said another word to me, I (along with the help of probably a little too much alcohol) cornered him in by the pool table. I told him that I was coming to his house the next day, and we were going for a drive. He gave me a funny look and said,

"...no... what? Why?"

"Because I wanna know what the hell is going on with you. This shit has gone on long enough, man." I said to him.

"What do you mean?? What do you think is going on? There's NOTHING." He said.

I was too drunk and frusterated to argue with him anymore so I just told him that I'd talk to him tomorrow when we both had clearer heads. He said that yes, that was probably a good idea, and I walked away. Despite the almost-fight, we were somewhat friendly with each other for the rest of the night. His brother and cousin ended up having to be guided to the car; I was one of their guides. I'm 99.9% positive Brad's cousin was trying something with me, which wouldn't be the first time he's "tried something" with me, and I don't know why I don't just jump him one of these times. Rumour has it he's hung like an elephant, and I'd be curious to know for myself. Plus, he's pretty good looking. About 6'1", probably a body fat percentage of 0.003%, a little too skinny for my taste, but built nice nonetheless, and like I say, I have yet to find out about the goods down below, but give me time...

I ended up not getting to bed until 6:00 Sunday morning, so I slept until about 12:30, got up, showered, and headed down to Brad's. The closer I got, the more pissed off I got. Why, I don't know, I guess I was just confused as to why he wasn't talking to me, and I'd let myself worry about it for too long. I was hoping that no one else was there when I got there, but that wasn't the case. His whole family and a few of our friends were all standing around talking. So I decided to stay anyways, and the day went pretty good. After about 3 hours or so, everyone had left or gone inside, and Brad and I were standing out in the driveway having a cigarette. I asked him when we were going for our drive, and he said, kind of snappy,

"What do you want to go for a drive for?"

I could feel my face start to get hot again with anger, but I forced it back down.
"I told you last night, I wanna know what the deal is with you. I've barely seen you in 5 weeks. When I talked to you last week, you said you were sorry and you'd call and we'd do something Friday night. You didn't. You barely spoke to me last night--" which is where he cut me off.

He said my name as he grabbed both of my shoulders. "You worry too much." He said, sort of smiling.

I smiled back a little, and said "Well yeah, a guy kinda worries when his best friend doesn't speak to him for over a month, Brad!"

"I'm not not-talking to you, I just don't do anything anymore. I haven't called you to go do something because I don't do anything. I work, play hockey, sleep, go back to work. My whole life revolved around drinking for so long and now it doesn't anymore. I know we used to go out all the time. We used to go out drinking." He explained.

"I know that, but just because you don't drink anymore doesn't mean we still can't hang out and do stuff together. You know what? When you quit drinking, I thought I'd quit too, just to see how easy it was to go without it." I told him.

"What'd you do that for? You're not the alcoholic. How would that be the same?" He asked me.

"It's not the same. But I did it. Sure, I was drinking last night, and I've had drinks before then too, but I did it for awhile." I said.

He nodded. Then I asked him why he was so persistant in not wanting to go for a drive.

"I thought you wanted to go for a different kind of drive." He said sheepishly.

That's when I remembered when we first started our little "thing". Whenever either of us wanted to go, we'd just say "Let's go for a drive" and we'd both jump in the car and take off for a few hours, the night, however long it took. As I thought about that, it felt like so long ago. That's when I realized that Brad was trying to steer his life back on course, and no matter how much I hated to admit it, us hooking up was a direct result of his drinking. I could tell by the way he looked at me when he said the thing about "the different kind of drive" that he was trying to tell me something. So, I bit the bullet and decided that it would probably be easier on us both if I brought it up. I pulled him a little closer to me so I wouldn't have to talk so loud. Not like there was anyone even remotely near us, but it just felt more comfortable. That's when I started saying what I never ever thought I would say to Brad:

"About that. I think I know what you're trying to say. And it's okay. I know where you're at, and I know what "us" was all about. I think that might have had something to do with the bullshit between us lately. Am I right?" I asked him.

"Well... yeah. I just didn't know how to say it so I thought I'd just let it be." He said quietly.

"Well Brad, you can't just let something like that "be". But, if that was the source of the problem, then consider the problem fixed." I said.

"You know you can't just do that. I know you, all too well, and no one can just stop something like that. I'm gonna ask you something once and I'm going to believe whatever answer you give me. Okay?" He asked.

"Okay." I replied.

"Hmmm..." He stalled "Are you, or were you, in love with me?"

My heart, I KNOW, lodged itself in my throat. This was the question I'd been asking myself for months now, not sure of the answer myself, and he had hinted around at it before, but had never actually said it. Now he had. This was D-Day. The moment of truth. Given what had happened, and what was happening at the moment, I decided to tell him exactly what I knew would be the only thing that could salvage a long, old friendship.

"No. I don't. I never have been. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear, but I never got that far into it." I was lying through my teeth. I knew as soon as I heard myself say it out loud that I wanted all of him so bad, but that once again, I wanted something that I could not have. My face was frozen in an emotionless state, like someone who really wasn't in love, but inside, I felt like I was being ripped apart.

Brad spoke first. "Okay. I said I was only going to ask once, and believe whatever you told me. And I believe you." When he said those last 4 words, he gave me that look that I'd seen a million times before. The look that says, bluntly, "I hear what you're saying, but I know what you really mean." He had given me that look probably the second time we went to the camp. I told him I wanted to take a drive out to make sure everything out there was okay, and he gave me that look.

So I smiled at him, realized that my hands were on his shoulders and his were on mine, and said "Okay, well that's outta the way then." And I let go of him and took a step back.

"You okay?" He asked me.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I wasn't fine. I just wanted to run to the car and get the hell out of there. I had just lied to him, and myself, about the biggest thing that's ever happened to me in my life. But it was either that, or tell him the truth. And I knew what the truth would bring. It's like I said to my ex-girlfriend when we realized that we couldn't be together anymore, I'd rather us be just friends than nothing at all. And that's what I wanted with Brad. We've been friends forever, best friends for the past 4 years, and I wasn't willing to risk that for something I knew wouldn't ever work out. Both of us are way too fucked up for something that big to work.

As I tried to maintain my expression of being "fine", I said that I was gonna take off and get some supper. I took another step back and he took a step towards me. He grabbed my jacket and pulled me into him, and started to kiss me. Just as I found myself starting to kiss him back, I (gently) pushed him away.

"No," I said, "Now we can just let it be." My breath felt like it had been cut off, and I felt the waterworks start to come to the surface. I turned away from him, said something about being starved to death, had to go eat something, and made it almost to the car.

"You wanna come back here after you eat? We're gonna watch a movie." He called out to me.

I stayed turned away from him, "Who's 'we'?" I asked.

He named off himself, Bitch, and his sister. I said that yeah, I'd be back in a couple hours. I got in the car, which involved turning back towards him. I didn't look up until I was actually in the car. He was standing by the corner of the barn with his hands in his pockets just looking at me. He knew exactly what my story was, how I felt, he probably even knew I was starting to cry. I blinked one tear away and smiled at him through the window. I waved as I backed out, he waved back, smiling half-heartedly. As soon as I was out of sight of his house, I let out a big sigh and braced myself for the imminent collapse.

But it didn't happen. As soon as I let that sigh out, all I could think about was how we'd had it out, over everything that was bothering me. He'd been right, I do worry too much; he'd told me that before, and he's right. A lot of people tell me that. Sure, I'd lied to Brad when he asked if I was in love with him, but believe me, no matter how descriptive I get with my writing, no one knows the exact situation but Brad and I. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of me. Part of me could only think about how we weren't gonna have sex anymore. But the other part of me, the bigger part, realized that that was just sex. I can have sex with anyone. I liked having sex with Brad, but I wasn't going to be anymore. Overall, that was a minor detail. At least we could be friends again. He'd already taken the first step there, by inviting me down later that night. I could tell by the way he said it, that he wanted me to come back, genuinely. He'd said it the same way when he asked me to come to his house on Christmas Day.

All I could think about the rest of the way to town was all the good memories I had of him. Even though he was drunk in most of them, they were still good memories. Some of them weren't even about the sex. Just us hanging out. I smiled, listened to songs that reminded me of us hanging out last summer, stupid songs like Hollaback Girl. That song was just really catchy, and really popular last July when Brad and I were working on my house all the time. I'd burnt a CD around that time, and I found it in my car, so I listened to it. I remember I drove him crazy because I just played that CD over and over again for almost a week straight while we were putting down new floor, painting, whatever. By the time I got to town, I was almost laughing out loud thinking of all the stupid shit we did. After I ate, I went for a quick run, showered, and headed back down to Brad's house. I felt 300% better about everything. Still a little bummed that I wasn't gonna get to bang his ass anymore, but I'll get over it. Like I said, his cousin is back in town for a month or so, so I could set my sights on him. I've heard rumours for 4 or 5 years now that he's bi, so chances are, given the rumours and the way he acts around me every other time he sees me, he is. We'll give it a try sometime anyway. When I have more time I'll tell you about the other times he's hit on me and you can let me know what you think his deal is.

So like the title says, I'm a little smashed up, but not a total write-off. I'm a bold faced liar, but when a friendship like ours is at stake, I don't care what I am. I'll be alright, hell I feel alright now! Sex is important to me, sure, but it's not the most important thing in my life. Brad knows I lied to him, but he and I both know that things work better this way. And right now, that's the most important thing to me.