My first fiction in days :PP. I feel irresponsible.

Warning: subtle hints of yaoi, swearing, bad style of writing (that is questionable :D)

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Dear Jason,

Hello, it’s me. I know you haven’t heard from me mentally, physically, spiritually or even sexually in the past weeks but I’ve been hoping that you’re carrying on without me. However, it seems you and I have very different opinions on carrying on. What I meant was that you do fine without me for a month, take care, and don’t forget to think about me. What you meant, unfortunately, was have sex with the first person you see.

That’s all right. I know that you’re trying to sputter sentences out of your mouth but I can’t hear you, dumbass. Neither will I ever give myself the chance to. Close you’re bobbing lips, you don’t have to explain. Things like this happen all the time; it’s practically a fad. I just cannot believe that the fad has caught up with us.

So while you’re reading this and denying things God, you and I know, answer my questions. No, you don’t have to write down your answer and mail it back. Just fax the answers to my mind. I have to admit, I still contain an attachment for you just enough to receive mental messages.

First: What the fuck did I do to you? You are, the last time I checked, twenty seven years old and, supposedly, wise but I guess I was wrong. By some chance, you’re not some kid stuck in an adult’s body, are you? That would be pedophilic with a hint of necrophilia, considering the man doesn’t know he and I are, WERE, in a relationship.

That disturbing possibility aside, I still treated you right. Granted, I didn’t treat you like a ten year old or a calf but I spoiled you until your inner bone. I let you take me to bars, fancy restaurants or boring business meetings (thought I always had to act INFERIOR to you). I tagged you along book shops; flee markets, concerts and my house!! You wanted to watch the sports channel; fine, I let you change the channel when I was watching. You wanted to answer the crossword; fine, I answered it in that stationery your mother gave you. You wanted to satisfy your role playing fetish; fine, I did it even though I had to call you, God forbid this reoccurs, Intergalactic Man.

Hell, did you even realize the number of Starbucks I threw away just because you wanted a clear glass of distilled, crystallized water?!

Which brings me to my second question: What do you see in her? All right, she’s smart, witty, funny, blahblahblah; but above all, she is a woman. She represents everything we turned our backs to: breasts, make-up and whatever else our pathetic reasons were. In my case, are, seeing as you’re not in the same league as me any more.

I remember the day I knew about your secret. You were new to the real world and its harsh tendencies to frown upon homosexuals. The big boys, thinking they were big, harassed you until you were all alone, making a river with your tears and looking pathetic in that business suit. You were lucky I found you, bastard; else you wouldn’t have had a shoulder to cry on. I had to tell you that you shouldn’t listen to them, that karma will find them and bit their asses off. I cannot believe I ever called you so cute and innocent that day. Worse, I actually let you be my friend.

I didn’t mind being with you. I liked you. Hell, I liked you a lot. Looking back, I wish I could smack my past with a walking stick and tell him to dump you while he can. I mean, look at us now. I wish I could go back and tell the ‘big men’ to go ahead and beat you into a pulp but, thank your god asshole, it’s against my belief.

In fact, I stood by you all five years we’ve known each other! Who did you run to when your parents found out you were gay? Who did you run to when paperwork was just too much for you to handle? Who did you run to have unexpected sex?! Yes, I’m glad you’re starting to acknowledge that it was ME. Only I saw you in all states of pain. Our relationship took YEARS of trust, connection and those other crap to build. How dare you start another one in a span of days?!

Don’t bother picking me up from the airport to explain. Neither should you call, e-mail or suddenly turn up here like a Don Juan. Don’t bother make excuses like you were drunk, missed me terribly or it was a one night stand because my source says you were 100 sober.

Don’t just stand there. Ask me who my source is. Who’s my source? Finally, a question at least I can answer. That pretty blonde you were dating? My cousin, you idiot. You see, Annabelle arrived two weeks later than the rest of us diligent dopes. Plus, she had a perfectly romantic excuse in her purse. She babbled about this man named Jason. They met in a restaurant. He was lonely, so was she. The night ended in an extravagant adventure (you know the details, I’m sure I don’t ever want to know) and their relationship has been blooming since. While I was congratulating and applauding her like everyone else, I couldn’t help but think that ohmygod! Could we be talking about the same person?! But there is millions of Jason globally; I’m sure it was pure coincidence.

Coincidence my foot.

Coincidence turned into revelation when she pulled out a picture from her purse. Guess who I saw?

So unless you have a twin brother by the same name, don’t come knocking at my door.

And, hey, Intergalactic Man? I’m not the only one dumping you. C’mon, don’t look like that. After what you did to me, I just had to get back. All I did was tell Annabelle I thing or two I knew about you ‘from work’.

With restraining hatred,

Drew

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The end xD. The point of this is.. nothing. I wanted to write something connected to homosexuals but couldn’t write something positive. So, I wrote about how a couple broke up xP.

Criticism is highly appreciated but no flames, please. If you guys don’t like my style, just say so. I can stop writing like that x)