Nobody Knows

I pretend that I'm glad you went away

But these four walls close in more every day

And I'm dying inside and nobody knows it but me

Like a clown a put on a show

The pain is real even if nobody knows

And I'm crying inside and nobody knows it but me

Why didn't I say the things I needed to say?

How could I let my angel get away?

Now my world is just a tumbling down

I can see it so clearly but you're nowhere around

The nights are lonely the days are so sad

I just keep thinking about the love that we had

And I'm missing you and nobody knows it but me

No one knows

How blue can I get you can ask my heart

Just like a jigsaw puzzle it's been torn all apart

A million words couldn't say just how I feel

A million years from now you know I'll be loving you still

The nights are lonely the days are so sad

I just keep thinking about the love that we have

And I'm missing you and nobody knows it but me

Nobody

Nights are lonely the days are so sad

No one knows

Just keep thinking about he love that we had

No body knows

Nobody knows it but me

Nobody Knows it but me performed by Kevin Sharp

Justin left a total of five days ago and the loft is already emptied of his stuff.  He waited until I was at work on Monday and then came and spent hours going through the entire loft to make sure that he got every last fucking thing that ever belonged to him.  He left the place a mess, not bothering to put anything back after going through the drawers.  When I got home from work I thought that I had forgotten to set the alarm, but then I saw the key sitting on the kitchen counter with the note beside it.  That's when it hit me that he really is gone.

I've been trying to act like I'm glad he's gone.  I mean......I lived alone for a long time before he came around.  I had the entire loft all to myself.  Didn't have to worry about anybody getting in my way.  I like my privacy.  I like having the place all to myself again.  It's not noisy anymore.  When Justin was here it was rarely ever quiet in the loft.  He was always either cooking, or humming, or watching TV, or working on his computer.  For some reason that always made a noise that I could hear, though it was probably my imagination.  Now I'm sitting here and it's just me and the silence is deafening. 

I turn on some music because I can't stand the quiet.  Fucking twat got me so used to background noise that now I have to have something going or I go insane.  I used to be able to sit on the couch and watch TV with the sound off and not mind that the loft was completely quiet.  Now I can't do that because of him.  I could sit here for hours by myself and not feel closed in.  I can't do that anymore either.  I grab my jacket and decide to go to Woody's. 

One good thing about Justin turning to the fiddler is that I don't have to worry about seeing him at Woody's or at Babylon.  He only went to those places because of me.  Well, that's not entirely true, he loves to dance.  He used to love to get out there on the dance floor with me and put on a show for anybody that would watch.  We'd practically fuck right there on the dance floor.  It was always great. 

After a couple of drinks at Woody's with the guys they say they're going to Babylon and I decide to go with them.  When I walk in, however, I suddenly get dizzy and I have to go outside and get some air.  I don't know what the fuck just happened but I couldn't be in there.  Mikey comes after me and puts a hand on my shoulder. 

"Brian? You okay?" he asks me.  The concern is so thick in his voice I almost want to say that I'm not, but I don't. 

"Yeah.....I just.....I don't feel so good.  I think I might be coming down with something.  I'm just gonna go get some sleep."  I mentally sigh with relief when he accepts my answer and goes back inside.  I get in the Jeep and head back to the loft.  When I get inside I am once again struck by the emptiness in the place.  I decide that maybe taking a shower will help. 

So I get into the shower and every time I have ever showered with Justin comes flooding back to me all at once.  I think about the first time that I ever fucked him in this shower.  I can picture the water running over his body, the feel of his wet, soapy skin under my hands.  I'm getting hard just thinking about it.  I reach down and start to slowly stroke my dick, closing my eyes and leaning on my other hand against the shower wall, letting the water run down my back.  I picture pushing him against the glass, then shoving into him, pulling on his nipple ring while I fuck him, listening to him moan and gasp and say my name over and over again.  I start to stroke harder and faster, jerking off at the memories just being in the shower brings back. 

"Justin....." I whisper as I come.  My head is thrown back and it's more of a moan than a whisper.  I stand there panting for a few minutes, trying to steady myself.  How did I let him get to me like this?  I don't do relationships or boyfriends or love for this exact reason.  I always end up getting hurt.  That's all there is to it.  I, Brian Kinney, am not allowed to be happy and it took a fucking twink walking out on me for me to finally realize that. 

I get out of the shower and dry off, then get in bed naked.  I lay there with the duvet over me and I start to think back on all the times that I've fucked Justin in this bed.  His smell is still on the fucking pillows.  Of course, that's my fault.  The cleaning lady came yesterday and I specifically left a note for her not to change the sheets.  I turn my head so that I can smell Justin on the pillow and I jerk off again.  It was never difficult for Justin to get me hard.  Hell, all he really had to do was look at me and it would do the trick.  And sex with him was always great.  I've never done repeats that were always as great as sex with Justin.  The most amount of times I have ever let someone repeat was seven times, then it started to get boring.  Sex was never boring with Justin, not even once.

After I jerk off for the third time I'm finally able to get to sleep, but my dreams are filled with that beautiful smile of his.  Never has anyone's smile affected me the way Justin's did.  Whenever I made him smile that mega watt Sunshine smile I just melted.  I couldn't help but smile back.  For a while I was actually happy.  Even if it was only for a few seconds, I would smile right along with him.  The sound of his laugh was so beautiful and always got me laughing.  No one has every affected me the way Justin did. 

When I wake up in the morning I decide to call in sick to work.  I don't want to deal with that today.  I just need to sit here in the quiet loft and think things through.  So I call Cynthia and tell her I think I'm coming down with something and that I'm staying home today.  She just says okay.  Luckily I don't have any meetings today.  I wouldn't be able to concentrate if I did have meetings.  So now I'm lying here in bed staring up at the ceiling analyzing how exactly I fucked up with Justin. 

I love him.  I know that now that it's too late.  I've loved him all along.  Why couldn't I just say that?  That's all he wanted.  He just wanted me to say that I love him so that he would know for sure.  All I had to do was reassure him that he wasn't just a fuck buddy and for some fucked up reason I couldn't do it.  Maybe I was just scared.  I mean......I opened myself to him so much as it was and he wanted even more.  I did things for him that I would never do for anyone else.  I gave him everything I had to give and it just wasn't enough. 

But then again, I didn't really give everything I had to give.  Because all he wanted were three little words.  But what were three little words to the rest of the world were enormous, earth shattering, life altering, "once you've said them you can't take them back" words to me.  Showing him that I love him is one thing.  Letting him live with me, taking care of him, helping him in every way that I can.  Making love to him instead of just fucking him.  Those are easy.  Actions I can do.  But he should know that I think seriously about the meaning of words.  I'm in advertising for fuck's sake, I know that the right words can do a world of good if said sincerely but those exact same words can cause nothing but harm if uttered in haste.  What can be totally meaningful to one person can be completely meaningless to someone else.  Why can't he see that? 

Everybody keeps asking me if I'm okay and I keep telling them that I am.  I keep up my "I don't give a shit" façade and my emotionless mask and tell them that everything is just peachy.  Well, not those words exactly, but words that mean the same thing.  And here we are back to words again.  I tell them that I'm glad he's gone and that I hope he's happy with the fiddler.  Luckily I've been able to keep them believing that.  The thing is, I'm not okay.  I'm not glad that he's gone and I sure as hell don't hope that he's happy with the fiddler.  I want them to break up and I want him to come running back to me. 

They all thought that I was heartless before......well I know for a fact that I'm heartless now because he ripped it right out of my chest when he walked out that door.  Ripped it out, stomped on it, cut it into tiny pieces, burned it and scattered the ashes to the wind.  I don't really blame him, though.  I know that I pushed him away, that I practically packed his stuff for him.  But now my "No excuses, no apologies, no regrets" credo is starting to look like total bullshit.  While I have no excuses for what I did I do want to apologize and I regret not doing what he asked.  I want to crawl on my hands and knees all the way to where he is living now and beg his forgiveness and ask him to please give me another chance. 

Never in my entire life did I ever think that I would feel this way about anybody.  I never thought that I would get to the point of being willing to beg and plead and cry to get him back.  I would do anything it took for him to have never walked away with the fiddler.  But it's too late.  He did walk away with the fiddler and there's nothing I can do about it.  Justin Taylor is gone from my life.  Most likely forever. 

I curl up in a ball on my bed, pulling the duvet up to cover me completely and I actually cry.  I just let everything out.  I haven't had a good cry in years and in ways it's liberating and feels really good and in other ways it's exhausting.  I just let the tears flow, sobbing so hard my entire body is shaking.  It hurts so fucking much that he really is gone and that there's nothing I can do to get him back.  The pain is overwhelming like I never thought it would be.  I am being ripped to shreds because he left and nobody knows it.  Nobody knows how much I'm hurting.  Nobody knows what I'm going through.  Because I refuse to let them in, let them see that I was hurt by a nineteen-year-old twink.  I'm dying emotionally and nobody knows it..........but me.    

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