Practice had gone better today, that was for sure. Dave had still been a bit off his game but at least his showing had not been abysmal, like yesterday. That had been utterly humiliating. But he had not been able to help it.
Just as he had predicted, a couple of the Glee club members had made Kurt a topic of conversation as they had entered the locker rooms to get ready for the day's practice. Artie had asked Finn if Kurt was okay and how he was handling "the transfer." Finn had said something like, "He really misses our Glee club, but I think he is happier overall, not having to worry about constantly being harassed."
Finn had stopped there, having seen Karofsky eavesdropping on their conversation. Dave had feigned ignorance in that moment, and Finn and Artie had swiftly changed topics. But he hardly would have noticed in any event. The moment Finn had affirmed that Kurt had left, and left because of him, Dave's stomach had plummeted to the floor. Although he had 'known' that Kurt was gone, there was still something in him that had retained belief in the unlikely, that Kurt was just ditching or out with the flu.
Learning it for sure, without a semblance of doubt, had broken something within him he had not even known was there. It had felt like being completely winded, but with no hope of ever catching your breath again. It had made his stomach queasy, his chest tight and his mind completely numb. All the way through practice, it had felt to Dave as if he was in one of those dreams where nothing feels quite real and your body never moves as fast as it should. He kept blowing plays because even the basics had seemed difficult and unfamiliar to him. Finally he had been forced to just give it up for the day, sit on the bench and watch his replacement fumble through the remainder of the practice.
Later that night, for the first time in a long time, Dave had gone to bed without a throbbing ache screaming in his groin. He had just felt so utterly numb. Lying on his back in the dark he had stared at the ceiling for over an hour, feeling displaced and without anything to really look forward to in the morning. He truly had not known it until that moment, but he suddenly realized that mixed in with his dread of the on-going sexual saga between himself and Kurt, there had also been a great deal of pleasure.
Most of the time the pleasure had been drowned out because of fear and self-hatred, but it had always been there, just the same. And as much horror as that pleasure might have given him, it had also, he was shocked to discover, given him one of his most compelling reasons to get out of bed every day. He may have hated wanting Kurt so badly, but the wanting itself had never ceased to be deeply viscerally compelling. Now the one who compelled had thoroughly rejected him, and the pleasure seemed to have fractured and dissipated in his absence. Without that firm locus that had consolidated Dave's desire, formed the focal point of its solicitations, the desire itself had lost its' gravitational pull, its' reason for being.
Some part of that desire still stirred within him, of course, but now it had nothing to really attach itself to and Dave could override it easily. Which used to be what he had wanted…or so he thought. Now he was not sure what it was that he wanted, from Kurt or himself. He never imagined he would miss feeling that overpowering sexual craving, never thought having control over it would make him feel so…empty. But it did. He felt empty without the molten heat that had inflamed him beyond reason or sense, almost beyond the capacity to breathe. He had hated it while it was there, but he suddenly discovered he missed it, now that it was all but gone.
So Dave had gotten up the next morning – that morning – and finally had the morning he had, for so long, longed for: one in which thoughts of Kurt did not make him ache and stroke and cum harder than was probably healthy. He had succeeded in being rid of his desire, momentarily at least. And no success had ever made him feel so deadened and hollow inside. Numbness had replaced unbridled yearning and the difference had been depressing beyond measure. Dave had spent the last year trying to put that raging fire out but now that it was, all that he wanted was to have it back.
And the worst part of it was that it was entirely his fault. If he had not pursued Kurt so relentlessly, not treated him so abysmally, had had the courage to stand up to his friends and tell them to leave Kurt alone, maybe the other boy would still be around. In the end, he had only himself to blame and he knew it. Which had made Puck's remarks in the locker room today stab all that much deeper.
Fortunately no one had really noticed because Puck had proceeded to try to convert more members of the football team into joining that Glee club, and that had been far more deserving of ridicule than Dave Karofsky backing down from an affront. Normally if someone like Puck had said that Dave was number one for him to "go all death-star on," Dave would have taken up the challenge immediately, fought the guy then and there. But because it had been about Kurt, Dave had only managed to shrink back into the background, let Azimio take over and just go along with the crowd.
Having someone openly blame him for Kurt's absence had been shockingly painful and Dave could only be grateful it had happened when, and where, and in the way that it did. The circumstance had deflected attention from him, allowed his remorse to go completely unnoticed, for which he had been immensely grateful. That would have been nearly impossible to explain.
However, there was also a small part of Dave that wanted someone to see his pain, recognize his remorse. He wanted a confessor, someone to confide all his sins to, someone who could listen to his whole story without judgment, give advice and still remain obligated never to tell anyone else. He desperately wanted another person's input on the situation, and he also simply wanted to explain to someone how he was really feeling. It was just utterly exhausting, having to hide and pretend and play act ALL THE TIME.
It was wearing Dave down, all the constant posturing and lying, the façade of manly bravado. Frankly it was beginning to feel a bit absurd. The only reason he continued to do it was because he had no idea of any other way to be. Being honest would have meant completely dislodging himself from everything he knew, everything that was even remotely familiar to him. That prospect was filled with too much uncertainty and Dave could not bring himself to face it. He had no idea where he would end up or who would be on his side when he got there, if anyone at all would be. It would have meant leaving what he knew to throw himself headlong into totally foreign terrain. He just was not strong enough to face that. Yet.
However, he could not deny that that prospect was also growing more appealing every day. Admittedly it was still utterly terrifying, but Kurt's abrupt departure had caused him to start seriously considering it more and more. At the very least he was strongly contemplating coming out to someone else very soon, if only because he was desperate to have at least one person with whom he could be honest. Of course he could not tell any of his friends. That would be instant social suicide. And his family would have made too big a thing about it. There were actually only two people who seemed like even remote possibilities: Finn and the red-headed school councilor lady.
Dave knew Finn did not like him very much, mainly because of the Kurt incident. But he also knew Finn was completely cool with Kurt and so telling him did not present the risk of being ridiculed that telling pretty much any other guy at school did. He also knew that Finn was a nice guy and he would keep Dave's secret, if Dave asked him to. The only trouble was concocting an opportunity to talk Finn alone. They did not exactly hang out in the same social circles and asking to speak to him in private in almost any circumstance would have seemed really weird.
It would not have been all that weird for him to ask to speak to the councilor lady, and Dave was sure she's be completely nice about it, but the main problem there was that her office walls were made entirely of glass. Other people would see him sitting in there talking to her, and that would be very difficult to explain. What could he say he was getting counseling for that would not solicit some ridicule?
Dave continued to have this internal debate more and more these days. It was an almost constant refrain in his head. He really desperately wanted to tell somebody, but there just wasn't anyone he could tell without it being problematic in one way or another.
Dave felt trapped, caught in the set pattern of his life, yet also feeling more and more estranged from it every day. It was as if he was simply going through the motions, a marionette moving through the world, pulled by the strings of peer pressure, fear, habit and a dearth of other options. Those combined forces seemed to animate all his movements and he was just a pathetic puppet to them, lacking the strength to break free, or the insight to know how.
But something was going to give soon. He could feel it. Because although he knew he was not strong enough to be honest yet, he also knew he did not have the strength to keep up the lies indefinitely either. Something was going to give and all Dave could hope was that when the ground finally caved underneath him, he would be able to find his footing again, sooner or later, perhaps with someone else to help guide the way.