Dear Jonathan

Chapter 5

So, here's a little Monathan snippet for you.. I know Monathan sounds stupid but that's the only thing that sounded the least crazy. If you don't believe me, you try coming up with a better combination of Jonathan and Michael! One more thing. You MUST listen to that song I put to the side while you read... Just please listen to it! Okay, Okay.. Are your Kleenex's ready?

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Dear Jonathan,

                         Do you know what my favorite sound is? I first heard it when I woke up the night after you had me. It was that infinitesimal, disgruntled, baby dinosaur noise mixed with the rain that danced on the roof of the lake house. I breathed it all in. I never wanted to forget this moment so I closed my eyes and relied on my senses to paint the picture. You held me even closer, our legs intertwined, your face snuggled into my shoulder, you butterfly-kissed my neck although you probably didn't mean to. I was on top of the world, I was content, my heart was completely full of everything you. You are so gorgeous. Baby, I... when we were together I felt like my soul was binding itself to yours. It was so potent, and so real to me. I would give anything to have that moment back. I'm not referring to the sex, even thought it was celestial, nor our friendship, because by then our friendship was gone. I'm talking about that tiny space of time right before you woke up because after you woke up everything shifted in a matter of seconds.

"Morning." I mumbled before I gently pecked your nose. "It feels like you're up for a little morning lovin'.. mmm.." I mused out load. “Whoa! What are you, crazy? Get off me!"  You almost injured yourself trying to get out of bed. "Alright, I might as well say it though it's pretty obvious. There's no need to worry. I'm gay, Jonathan." Judging by your facial expression, you weren't taking it very well. "You seriously didn't know? Surely after last night.." My voice dropped off.. Who knew that my "best friend" was the biggest homophobe of them all. "Y-you! You're gay? That’s sick!" You stuttered. I was confused. We just had one hell of a night.. I thought maybe you liked me. When I asked if you were.. you know, g-a-y, you screamed at me. "You think I'm a-- I-I can’t even say it! You think I'm some sort of shit-faced homo?! That's disgusting! I can’t believe I fucked a faggot!" Oh, did I say you were a homophobe? I meant to say hypocrite. How the hell did you think you were going to "fuck" a straight guy, Jonathan? How? How does a "straight" guy fuck another "straight" guy, hmm? It was more than sex! It meant more than pleasure and you know it! 

You have no regard for other people, maybe that's why your parents never wanted to be around you! They couldn't stand to see what they had created: a bigheaded monster. You didn't want to be bothered by them yet they love you, and your mom blames herself because she said she's the one that spoiled you. Your agenda has nothing to do with anyone! You consume yourself! You're obsessed! Everything must always be about you! You are an island, a consecrated, guarded island! How can you possibly do that? Please tell me how! How do you shut your feelings and emotions off? That must be so convenient. You can fuck whatever, whoever, whenever, zip up your pants and walk away like nothing happened.

I couldn't believe it. In fact, It didn't really sink in until you left. A year passed. Another day, another shift at work, another thanksgiving, another Christmas, another birthday, and three years had gone by. My life lapped me a million times. I'm forever stuck in that day, in that moment. "I'm leaving, I joined the marines and I've been training with them for a while. I leave for basic tomorrow it's in San Diego. My parents already know. I swear if someone finds out about this or so much as breathes your name around me, I'll destroy you. Now you need to make like the horse shit that you are and hit the trail."  Do you know why Jonathan? Because I saw the real you that day. I saw the Jonathan that every one of those sorry girls saw when you ripped their hearts out.. I saw the Jonathan that you kept locked up in the closet (Pun intended). I felt what they felt. I was just the latest victim in the Slaughtering of hearts led by Jonathan Von Christenson The Great.