I'm sorry for not updating for awhile, and I apologize for any spelling/grammer errors. I've been writing and typing this very quickly. Classes started back up and I've been busy protesting the Republican National Convention that has invaded the good city of New York and tore it to pieces with their narrow minds. Anyway, that's enough about politics, enjoy.
"It's not that I can't live without you. It's just that I don't want to try."
The softly whispered words drew me from my sleep and I fought to focus my eyes against the early morning sunlight as Chandler stared down at me with his soulful blue eyes.
I didn't speak, didn't know if there were words to say after the previous night. So I watched his eyes, eyes that stayed focused on me. He was looking for something inside of me. Answers? Questions? Hope? I didn't know, but maybe I was searching for the same things.
I felt the sunlight shining down on us, his arms wrapped around me, and very slowly his head began to descend. Closer, closer, closer.
His lips brushed mine gently as if testing, wondering what my reaction would be. Before finally his mouth took mine. The kiss was gentle still, searching, hoping, discovering. I didn't know how to react. I hadn't been kissed in so long and it felt so right to be in his arms, to be kissed. The feeling was heavenly.
Slowly, he began to pull away till finally his lips freed mine. Pressing his forehead against mine, he breathed deeply.
"Oh Monica," he whispered.
I felt the emotion begin and immediately shut it out of my heart. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. It wasn't his fault. Gently, I pulled free of Chandler's arms.
"Joey," he began. I looked down at him, at the expression on his face, the emotions in his eyes and I smiled gently.
"Shh, Chandler. Don't worry about it," I soothed, holding my hand out to him.
He took it and pulled himself up. He looked at me in silence and still I only smiled at him.
"How do you feel?" I asked, ignoring the look he gave me.
"I'm not sure yet. Before or after what just happened?" he countered.
"Before. Let's just forget that last part for now," I answered, holding his hand.
"Better than I have in a long time. I think I'm finally starting to understand it all. Because of you," he added.
I squeezed his hand gently and looked down at the gravestone at our feet.
"Now you need to learn to deal with the silence," I said, bringing my eyes back up to his.
"I'm not ready for that," he argued, shaking his head sadly.
"Yes, you are, Chandler. That's your next step. It's time to deal."
With his hand in mine, we made our way back to the street and hailed another cab. On the ride home we both remained silent, but his grip on my hand never lessened. If anything it was stronger than ever.
As the cab stopped outside of my house we climbed out. On my doorstep he looked up at me with those eyes that haunted me.
"Please don't leave me right now," he begged, his voice filled with unshed tears and with a fear words could not describe.
"I'm not leaving you, Chandler." I said, touching his face gently. "Go home, get some sleep. I'll see you tonight. I promise."
"I'm scared, Joey," he said still holding my hand.
"Good. That means you're feeling an emotion other than pain and anger. Go home, Chandler."
Gently I kissed his cheek, gave his hand a final squeeze, and left him on the steps as I went into my apartment. As I closed the doors I felt my original emotion from earlier sweeping back of me. That feeling at hearing Chandler call Monica's name when he kissed me.
"What have I done?" I moaned, sinking to the floor as I leaned against the door. "I've gone and fallen in love with the son of a bitch," I mumbled.
Why would I do that to myself? Why would I hurt myself so much knowing his heart still belonged to a woman for one thing, who has been dead for two years? Was there something in me that asked to be hurt? I closed my eyes against reality and let the memory of Chandler's lips wash over me.
"Glutton for punishment," I whispered, standing up finally.
---
I walked into the bar later than usual.
"Hey Joe," Frankie asked as I put my stuff behind the counter, "So how was your day off?"
"Great. I spent the whole day with Kane as usual." I said in a distracted manner. He didn't question me about it and continued the conversation.
"His birthday is coming up isn't it?" Frankie asked, smiling.
"Next month," I laughed as the first customer came in.
At eight o'clock that night I didn't even bother to look up when I heard the door open. I knew without looking that it was Chandler.
"Can I talk to you?"
I jumped at the sound of his voice right behind me. Turning slightly, my eyes met his and the emotion in them scared me.
"What's wrong?" I asked him.
"Just give me a few minutes please?" he begged, touching my hand.
"Frankie, I'll be back in ten," I yelled over the music to my friend as I pulled Chandler back into the storeroom. "Are you all right?" I asked him.
"I got home this morning and my answering machine was blinking like crazy. Phoebe, Mike, Ross, Rachel. They all called worried to death about me when I didn't show up at Mike's party. They were terrified, Joey," he said, sitting down on the tiny cot he had once slept on.
"Is that what's bothering you?" I asked quietly, kneeling in front of him.
"I never even told them I would come for sure, but they honestly thought I would. I really scared them by not showing up," he continued, staring off, lost in the thoughts he was voicing to me.
"And their fear hurt you, didn't it?" I continued.
"Yes. It hurts because I hurt them. I never wanted to do that. I guess I never understand how my withdrawal from them was really affecting their lives," he admitted.
"They love you, Chandler. Watching you hurt so much hurts them too. And watching you pull away breaks their hearts as well. They lost Monica. They don't want to lose you too," I tried to explain.
"I kissed you this morning," he said, suddenly changing the subject as he looked down at me.
This time it was my turn to look away as I answered. "Yes, you did."
"Are you angry with me?"
"No, Chandler."
"But you are upset," he clarified.
"Because you kissed me as you imagined Monica. You took a step forward, but you let her pull you back," I answered.
"Is that all it was? Was it just because you think I still can't let go of her? Or was it something else? Joey?" he pressed, turning my face so our eyes met once again.
"Joey, I need you out here. We're packed," Frankie yelled from out front.
Scrambling to me feet, I pulled Chandler toward the door with me.
"Joey, please answer me," his voice begged of me. I stopped and looked at him for a moment. What would my answer be? The truth? A lie? Maybe a little of both?
"You're taking so many steps to find your life again, Chandler. I don't want to see you slip back into those shadows because of one mistake," I finally answered.
Without another word, we walked back out front. I wasn't given the chance to think much more on the subject though it never really left my mind. The dingy bar was packed that night and I never had another chance to stop and breathe let alone think.
At two o'clock Frankie left. As I turned the open sign to closed Chandler's voice drifted to me in the darkness.
"Was it a mistake for me to kiss you?" he asked softly.
I stopped with my hand still on the sign and let his question sink in. He was so confused, so lost. He had so much he still needed to do before he could see life again through eyes clear of betrayal and pain. Every time he turned to me for help I had to be careful of everything I said and did so as not to hurt him even more.
"It was if you really wanted to kiss Monica, if you were just trying harder to forget her," I answered just as softly as I turned to look at him in the dim lighting.
"What if I don't know why I did it? What if all I know is I wanted to kiss you?"
"Then you have to find out if it was really me you wanted to kiss."
"And if it was you?"
"Then you have to find out why and if you are ready to take a step like that."
"What step is that, Joey?" he asked, standing and moving towards me.
"I'm not a game to play with, Chandler. Don't do this to me," I warned, watching his movements as he grew closer. He reminded me of a cat stalking his prey, his body filled with grace.
"I'm not playing a game, Gelato," he answered.
"Stop," I screamed at him, holding my hand up to still his approach. "You are playing with me, damn it. I see it in your eyes. You want to see just how far you can push yourself before Monica's memory jerks you back. How far can you go, how much can you do before you let the pain pull you back in and drown you all over again? Well, I'm not playing and I won't be played with. You stand your ground against this, Chandler, or you walk away."
He stared at me in silence, my words completely unexpected and cold. They were all true though. I wasn't going to hurt myself to save him. No matter what emotions raged inside of my heart. I refused to drown myself while trying to save his life when I still wasn't sure whether he wanted to swim or sink in his emotions.
"Joey," he began, taking yet another step.
"No. You're teasing me, testing the waters. You want to see if you can invoke the kind of emotions in another human being that you think you can no longer feel. Well you can. I feel them, Chandler. Are you happy now? But I won't stand here and let you find out if you can do to me what you think Monica did to you," I said, feeling the burning in the back of my eyes.
Now was not the time to cry, damn it. I couldn't lose control, not yet, not when I was fighting to survive the emotions raging within me as Chandler stood just a few feet away staring at me with those blue eyes.
"It's time to go, Chandler," I whispered.
"Please, Joey. I'm sorry," he begged.
"Go, Chandler," I repeated, stepping back so he could leave.
"Joey, I didn't mean to," he whispered, moving towards the door. He hung his head in what seemed to be defeat, his body void of the grace that had been there only moments before.
He stopped at the door and looked back at me, his blue eyes brimming with tears.
"Chandler, when you wonder again why Monica always turned to Richard even though you were always there for her remember me," I said. Then I walked back to the storeroom until I heard the door close behind him.
I sat back there, alone in the darkness for a lifetime. Still I fought the tears that threatened to spill. Still I tried to calm the storm of emotions within me. I had screwed up so badly.
Taking a deep breath, I walked back out front and pretended to clean up. My pretense didn't last long though before I broke down and sent the bar top of empty beer bottles and glasses crashing to the floor. The glass shattered and splinted everywhere as I collapsed behind the bar sobbing. I had screwed up so badly.