Maybe in this world of patterns, there is one broken link. The pattern
doesn't always fit.
Even when I was working in New York, there were usually patterns, something to follow that created some sort of identifiable mark. But this time, there were no leads, nothing made sense. I couldn't risk loosing John. I never thought I had it in me to do it; to pull the plug. But in the end it was facing my greatest fear that saved me from it.
I was lost in a sea of confusion. I couldn't bare to see him lie there on what would have been his death bed. My biggest joy in life was slipping away from me.
For a moment, I felt ok in Brad's arms again. But then I thought about what all he had done. What I had seen. I could never let him back in. I knew it. But for the moment it all felt ok. He kept on telling me that it was ok. No, Brad, it's not ok. John couldn't even have been standing there. It broke my heart just to look at him. So worn down, weakened beyond belief.
He had been the one to trust my theory before I did. It was almost as if he was then the believer trying to convince me, the skeptic. In the end, he was right. It wasn't sound, but I did believe.
When I had let John go, I felt like I was going to die. The feeling of his had letting go was like dying along with him. But then, suddenly it was ok again. I was in his arms. He was there; standing, breathing, living.
So maybe in this world of patterns, there is one broken link. The pattern doesn't always fit.
Even when I was working in New York, there were usually patterns, something to follow that created some sort of identifiable mark. But this time, there were no leads, nothing made sense. I couldn't risk loosing John. I never thought I had it in me to do it; to pull the plug. But in the end it was facing my greatest fear that saved me from it.
I was lost in a sea of confusion. I couldn't bare to see him lie there on what would have been his death bed. My biggest joy in life was slipping away from me.
For a moment, I felt ok in Brad's arms again. But then I thought about what all he had done. What I had seen. I could never let him back in. I knew it. But for the moment it all felt ok. He kept on telling me that it was ok. No, Brad, it's not ok. John couldn't even have been standing there. It broke my heart just to look at him. So worn down, weakened beyond belief.
He had been the one to trust my theory before I did. It was almost as if he was then the believer trying to convince me, the skeptic. In the end, he was right. It wasn't sound, but I did believe.
When I had let John go, I felt like I was going to die. The feeling of his had letting go was like dying along with him. But then, suddenly it was ok again. I was in his arms. He was there; standing, breathing, living.
So maybe in this world of patterns, there is one broken link. The pattern doesn't always fit.
