Sometimes you're traveling a highway, the only road you've ever known, and wham! A semi comes out of nowhere and rolls right over you.
Sometimes your mentor looks at you with tears in his eyes, you realize that you'd do anything in the world to make those tears go away, and wham! Suddenly you feel more than just admiration.
And everything changes. Those feelings you didn't even know you had spring to life and torment you every second you see the man.
And every second you don't.
Sometimes I think the semi would be the easy way out.
Three separate highways intersect at a place no reasonable person would ever want to go.
Feelings. Love. Want. They all came to one thing, Percival Cox.
And I was the only man in the entire world foolish enough to go to that intersection.
I should have made a left on Feelings, then a right on Love.
Then I'd be at the crazy intersection called Elliot, not this one.
Because no reasonable person would fall in love with a man that found pleasure in degrading him.
Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all the sound.
Why did I have to fall in love with him? It could have been anyone else.
No, it couldn't.
And why do I have to moan his name in my sleep.
Why?
Why did I have to think about him every moment of my life.
And when he looked at me.
Oh god you can read me you know you know you know oh god I'm sorry I feel this I'm sorry but I cant stop oh dear I LOVE YOU please love me too!
Everything needed to stop.
The glass doors swing open, in perfect sync, precisely times so you don't have to think. Just stroll right it.
It was strange really. I dreaded coming to this place. I yearned coming to this place.
And seeing him was the reason for both.
At the beginning I tried avoiding him, but it was pointless. So I gave up.
I continued following him around like a lap dog, and just held back from pouncing.
And I think all the harbored feelings and denial is what made me think I was crazy.
Thinking back, it would have been easier to deal with if I told someone.
But I knew I couldn't.
It doesn't have a hospital stink. Oh yes, it's all very clean, from cafeteria chairs to the bathroom sink. Spotless.
It made me wonder who was doing the janitor's job, because Mr. Crazy never cleaned.
Guess he picked the wrong career choice.
"Hey Soft Scrub, thanks for finally cleaning the men's bathroom." Dr. Cox mocked.
Even in the tone his voice was like candy. Very yummy candy. Then I wondered what it would taste like to kiss him. Probably like love.
Yes, love is a flavour.
My mind went back to Dr. Cox and Janitor, just to see a look of shock and disgust on Janitor's face.
I knew he wasn't the one cleaning.
Just saw a new guy checked in. Tall, built, with a way fine face, and acting too tough to tumble. He's a nutshell asking to crack. Wonder if he's ever let a guy touch that pumped-up bod.
I quickly shook my head.
Big shocker, I wasn't completely straight.
I've never really been with another man before, besides a drunken groping of Turk and Keith drunkenly cuddling with me.
Ah, Keith was a good cuddler. And he had soft lips.
I've thought about it before though, countless times. But before I met Dr. Cox I didn't really think I was gay.
But I'm not completely gay, I like the ladies too.
I guess I was bisexual.
I can't remember when it has snowed so much, yards and yards of lacy ribbons, wrapping the world in white. Was it three years ago? Ten?
I remember enjoying the ever so rare snowstorm. It didn't really add up till after my shift, and Sasha could not handle snow.
That meant I was spending the night in the hospital.
"Newbie," his voice made my knees weak.
I turned around to see him looking at me with his arms crossed.
"Yeah?"
"Mommy called, she wants me to make sure her daughter gets home safe. Normally I wouldn't, but I'm not in the mood for Carla's evil ways. So, come on." Dr. Cox walked towards the door.
I hate this feeling. Like I'm here, but I'm not. Like someone cares, but they don't.
I was in the passenger seat of Perry Cox's car.
That's right, in the front.
The back was currently occupied by boxes.
And I looked at Dr. Cox. My heart pounding, wishing to go back to his house. Wanting this to all be because he cares.
But it's not.
The first cut wasn't the deepest. No, not at all.
I don't care what Cat Stevens, P.P. Arnold, Keith Hampshire, Linda Ronstadt, Rod Stewart, or Sheryl Crow says.
They're all wrong.
It's not the first one that hurts, it's the one you want most.
So comparing the bitter-sweet love I had for Perry and him reminding me with just a word that nothing would ever happen, to my seventh grade crush was fruitless.
And sitting in that car hurt more that I thought it would.
And when he leaned over me, mocking because I couldn't open the door, you should have seen the look on his face when he felt me 'stiffen up'.
And how it didn't even compare to the look he had when I kissed him.
It doesn't seem so incredibly insane to me.
I had to do something, anything.
Not doing anything was killing me.
And it's not like I planned it. If I had the chance to think it over, I wouldn't have.
So I just acted on impulse.