When I was in school I tried to be a trendsetter. I tried to be popular. I tried to be the coolest guy at school. I ended up being the poofy kid.
The poofy kid.
Because I dressed like Gary Numan had gotten sick on Gene Simmons.
I was the poofy kid.
Never feeling special. Never feeling special. I...had never felt special.
But when I was with Howard, he made me feel like I was worth all the gold in the world and more.
He'd told me that once.
He'd said that being with me was more exciting than dancing to a jazz record. And that was a lot coming from Howard Moon: Jazz Fanatic. He'd said that I was the most important thing in the world to him; that I was worth all the gold in the world and more.
I was riches to him.
So, though I wasn't popular at school; and though I was the poofy kid; I had Howard. And Howard thought I was the most amazing human being to ever walk the earth.
What was lacking was the sexual attraction.
For me I guess it was always there. Always lurking in the shadows wanting to make it's grand appearance with a flourish and a twirl.
It would have been gorgeous.
People would yell, saying, "Who is that?"
"Is it Christ?"
"Vince Noir, Rock n' Roll Star!"
They'd love me.
They'd love me, because I would have kissed Howard and he would have kissed me back.
And it would have been beautiful.
It would have been a beautiful sight to see playing out in front of your eyes, more dazzling than a stage filled with drag queens lip syncing to five different Cher songs all at the same time.
Now, it just sat in the corner of my mind wishing that it wasn't so unlikely.
Everything seemed a blur when Howard looked at me. Those thoughts would come rushing forward and I'd think, what now? Do I kiss him? Does he kiss me?
No.
It was about coffee beans.
It's always about the bloody coffee beans.
"Have you ordered the right ones?"
"Did you grind them last night?"
"Are you listening to me?"
"Are you listening to me?"
"I don't think those are the right beans, Vince!"
"Vince Noir! Vince Noir! Vincent Noir! Vincent..."
It dragged on.
How could I listen to anyone now?
Nothing was weird between Howard and I though. We'd go along our day as normally as we'd always done.
The only difference was that every step was a little more tiring, every handshake a little too tight, every look a little less reassuring.
Everything seemed so normal, yet so...painful.
See, that's why I hate Romeo and Juliet. They keep going on about how painful it is that they can't fucking be together because their families hate each other. Yeah, yeah that really is shit. But imagine going along your normal day with the person you've loved for years always there and finally knowing about your love, but not being able to reciprocate it. That's painful.
They knew each other for what? Three days? Three days and they were in love? The horrid build up of eighteen years is a shit load more painful than three days of going behind your parents' backs.
Pain is a difficult thing to explain.
I'd rather feel it though than be an idiot and kill myself.
Feeling that pain makes me know that all that love I felt was real. It helps me know that I had a reason to love Howard. I had every reason in the world to love him the way I did. That's what I could feel. That stabbing pain of love.
And I was going to live with that forever.
Howard would die at some point. If when he died would be before me I wouldn't take my own life to be with him. I'm not an idiot.
Well...not that kind of idiot.
I wasn't sure what to do.
I was laying in bed, thinking about how much my life sucked, when I felt a heavy weight push into the bed.
"Vince?" Howard whispered to me, as he rested his hand on my shoulder.
I kept staring intently at the wall, hoping that even though my eyes were wide open, Howard wouldn't notice that I was in fact awake.
"Vince," he said again. I could feel his breath against my neck, and I reached my hand around my chest to touch the hand on my shoulder.
"Howard?"
Howard didn't reply.
He slowly...hesitantly wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled his face into my neck.
"Vince, I love you," I said, his voice rough.
"I know," I said. but, I didn't know. I had no idea at all. It seemed wrong. I knew Howard didn't love me that way.
What was he doing?
Why were his arms wrapped around me like this?
And why, oh dear God, why was he kissing up my neck and around my jaw?
I carefully turned to face him. In this moment I had no other thoughts but to kiss him.
Clearly.
So I did.
Again.
I kissed Howard and began to unbutton his brown (angry muffin, apparently) cardigan.
He kissed back.
He actually kissed me back. And seemed to be enjoying, heaven knows why.
It was bliss.
Yet...sad. Sad bliss. Whatever the fuck that was.
I didn't care. I was living in that moment.
The moment of making love to Howard slowly and contentedly and...
painfully.