Why, Mr. Frizzles?

A pair of young men lay next to each other in sleep. The clock read 8:29 AM. There wasn't a hint of the tension, the sorrow or the passion which had ended barely three hours prior; all of it, it seemed, had been swept away by the night breeze beckoned indoors by the window fan. The clock struck 8:30. Slowly, the one to the left awoke. He took one longing look toward the brown, highlighted hair of the man next to him. That's when the fidgeting started. At first, no position was comfortable. As ten minutes passed, he looked again and again to his side, and with each time the fidgeting intensified. These glances were the sweetest, most potent poison. After a half-hour, the urges started again. He felt his left arm, his best of friends and worst of foes, clench ominously. He breathed deeply in opposition to the force of his own mind in an attempt to calm and contain himself.

He sat up and and turned behind himself toward the window. The bath of light was fresh and young, but it made things sweaty and even more uncomfortable. He thought of all of the memories, turned bittersweet from the events of yesterday. A stabbing pain in his chest made him clench at his heart and fall back onto the bed on his stomach. The clock to his left read 9:30. He sat up again and remembered his own bed, twenty-five kilometres away. Nothing was ever left on it except ... except ... Mr. Frizzles. He choked a bit, holding back a sob. Mr. Frizzles, the bear his boyfriend had made him during his trip to Ottawa. No, he corrected himself, his ex-boyfriend. Another sob was repressed. He remembered the day that Tony had given him Mr. Frizzles. It was one of the bitterest memories, now.

He and his family had barely arrived home and he was there helping them unpack and to visit for a few days. Tony had brought him to his room and placed a blanket over his head. It was a surprise, Tony informed him with a repressed giggle. He left and was back in a few moments.

"Keep the blanket on and reach into this box," he intructed.

The other man tried to take the blanket off.

"Oh no you don't!" Tony chided plafully.

Reluctantly, the blinded one of the two reached out into the box, not knowing quite what to expect. Spiders? A snake? Candy? All possible. Then he reached the contents: plush, soft. It was a teddy bear.

"Can I take the blanket off now?" he aksed.

"Yep!" said Tony.

He ripped it off and peered at this wonderful gift. A grin spread from cheek to rosy cheek.

"I love it!" he exclaimed.

"Guess what," Tony moved.

"Yeah?"

"Well, when you make it, you put a heart inside of it and make a wish. Do you know what I wished for?"

His heart was beating quickly. "No. What?"

"I wished that our love would last forever! I put my eternal love in that bear." His smile was bright and warm.

Tony put his eternal love into that bear. He melted, dropping the bear to the side and grabbing his eternal lover into a tight, loving embrace.

The memory flashed through his mind quickly. Once it was over, the sugar from the moment had revealed its sour aftertaste. He could no longer repress his sobs. He cried, the twitching and fidgeting becoming worse and worse. He was shaking with envy for his past self. Why could he not have lived in that day forever? Why did time have to pass? Why did everything have to be so goddamn unfair? The crying stopped long enough to let him catch his breath before he relived the moment again, a pattern which repeated itself. He began to mutter inaudibly while he sobbed.

"He put his eternal love in that bear! He put his eternal love in that bear! Why, Mr. Frizzles. Why? I just wanted to be happy with him forever. Why? He put his eternal love in that bear."

He looked over at the shelf between cries and saw the rainbow paper boat, coloured so with highlighters, that he had found on the floor at school. He had given it to Tony because they had a running joke about the Nice Boat. He collapsed in agony.

"Such a nice boat. What a nice boat. I just wanted ... Why, Mr. Fizzles? Nice boat. He put his eternal love in that bear! I ... happy ..."

He remembered when they would watch My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic together.

"Ponies. Rainbows. What a nice boat. A nice boat. Nice. Why? I just wanted to be with him! I was so happy! Why? Shut up! Shut up!"

He kicked his leg a bit too forcefully, and it hit the other's ankle with a smack. The urge in the back of his mind clenched his left fist again in anticipation.

Tony awoke with a start. "Don't hit yourself," he said monotonously with a faint hint of fear and sadness, perhaps guilt.

"It was an accident," he managed to utter clearly. The urge subsided then and there. Then the muttering began again. "Mr. Frizzles. Mr. Frizzles ... oh, Mr. Frizzles. What a nice boat. I wanted to be happy! A sunken nice boat. Shut up!"

He looked at the clock. It was now 10:30. He continued to sob while Tony layed there, paralysed and listening to the muttering indecipherable through the sobbing and snorts. He calmed down. He looked at the clock again. It was 11:10. He sighed with difficulty, and turned to his love, the man he could not kiss ever again.

"I think I'm done," He said weakly. "Can I have some kleenex?"


-----

That's how my morning went. Not sure about yours. Last night, a man I truly love left me. I ... don't want to talk about the details publicly because there is one crucial thing I would have to omit, but I might PM some of you. That way, I will be able to say everything.

I ... heh ... Well, this is worse than last break-up. The last relationship I had, I was mostly unhappy. This time, I thought all was going perfectly well. I was happy. I wanted to go to prom with this guy. I wanted to live out the rest of my life with him as my closest companion. I told him things I have barely admitted to myself. I guess sometimes you can't trust what you hope is true.

---------- Post added 14th Aug 2011 at 04:25 PM ----------

PS, here is the Nice Boat video we joked about:

Nice Boat - YouTube

 

Thank you very much. I'm doing a lot better than I was this morning and last night, that's for sure, but I'm still very down in the dumps. My mom's dragging me to our cottage (I don't particularly want to go, but it might be good for me), and I'm visiting family on Prince Edward Island this weekend. Hopefully that'll help distract me from it a bit.

 

Thanks guys. Your comments almost made me cry again.

 

Okay. Screw it. Screw caution at one's own expense, that bitch who spawned self-degradation. No one who knows me is here anyhow. I really want to tell the whole story.

He'd been developping feelings for another guy. I knew this deep down, because I noticed. I knew. I knew! I just trusted him enough that I didn't mind so much. I didn't feel jealous, because he showed no hint of wanting to leave me. If anything, he loved me more every time I saw him. Then ... on Saturday, he asked me something. He said "If you have something important to say, you should come out with it, right? Even if it would really hurt someone?" I said yes, of course, so after a while he told me. He said "I don't want to hurt you, but I already have. I did something I was against. Sometimes emotions overcome us even though we know we shouldn't be doing it." I guessed it then. I said the other guy's name, and he nodded and whimpered a bit. He had cheated on me. I was hurt, but ... I didn't want to dump him.

I guess I have to explain something. Tony has Aspergers Syndrome, and although he has received treatment from a young ago to the point where it's impossible to notice until you really know him and to the point where he is better at socialisation than I am (true story; I'm pretty piss poor at it), it is still very much a part of who he is. He isn't quite able to think of the consequences of actions in the heat of the moment. I have had to remind him of them at times with other things unrelated to this. Another things is that this other guy lives very close to him, whereas I'm about a twenty-five minute drive away. I guess that was a bit hard on him. I don't know. He never talked much about it. We were always sad to leave each other at the end of the weekend. Maybe that wore him out. I don't know.

I ... wish I could have him back. I'm probably being really stupid, but I asked him for that last night. He said, "I'm sorry." He said, "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I hurt you again," and "This is my way of protecting you." When I first started having a romantic interest in him, he was completely against relationships, almost irrationally afraid of them. He slowly fell in love with me, though, and ... well, the rest is history. This feels all too familiar. I'm telling myself to be patient like last time, that he will come around and decide that it was a mistake to dump me despite what he did. Another part of me is saying "Move the fuck on, or remember and love him privately for the rest of your life. I really don't care which you pick, but don't pick this."

I'm lost. He said he didn't want to hurt me, yet the break up hurt me more than what caused it. I don't know.

Oh, and I said something to the other guy. I started talking to him last night. We had been friends. I basically said that I know he didn't want to hurt anyone and that the fact he did was eating at him. He seemed shocked that I would be so understanding. It went on a bit, then he said something that took me aback. He said that he isn't sure he feels guilty enough. I turned really cold, and said this:

"I won't be yelling at anyone, but if you think you don't feel guilty enough, I can help. Just remember every time you look at him that I loved him more than I have every loved anybody. Think about how much I grew socially while I was him, and how all of that is going backward. Think about my self-esteem and how it had developped. Know that I can't stop thinking about his betrayal and that nothing will ever make me feel better about it, even if I might be able to put it in the back of my mind eventually. If you still aren't guilty enough, ask him to read the letter I wrote him to you. Ask him to read the sonnet that came with Sharky. Ask him what he thought about my kisses.Then you'll feel guilty enough. Oh, and ask him what he wished for when he made Mr. Frizzles. Yes, that one's important And if you think that's anger, you're wrong. Anger is uncalculating and brutish. This is cold, bitter sorrow. Drink deep."

I guess the reason I'm sharing that rant was because it felt good and it feels even better to relive it.

I'm not expecting the best advice ever from any of you. I'm not sure that there's anything any of you could say that would solve this, and I know it would be unfair to expect that from someone. I'm just ... lost, but I wrote a soliloquy, so I know where I'm lost.

It is not of my nature here to know
What poison thoughts do to so pure a man,
Nor whether love can last through such deceit.
My duty is to sow the seeds of pain,
Just as Demeter, lost of her own heart,
Did work till order reigneth once again.
O why, cruel fortune, have I this to tell
My ignorance, whose life sustains all else
In my poor wretched self? O damn thee, mind,
For hadst thou been awake at that late hour
Then this black news would not have tarred mine ears
And torn apart what had been given hence
To that fair man. How could such vile thoughts
Have root in such a perfect silhouette?
The pain burns white, but anger has no fuel
From this most righteous sorrow of my heart;
Nor would a swift ammending blood red pool
From lamentations make me ever part.
If Hades is as cruel as tales do tell,
Then paradise awaits my crooked soul;
Subject me to the deepest pit of hell,
A cold embrace with numbness as my toll.
Thou angel who is closest to my self,
I know thou know'st the plight within mine eyes;
They are the same as those that plague thyself,
That say to take this loss despite the cries.
If pleasurable life did sire calamity,
Then feed me now the fruit of that dark tree.