Title: Flying Apart
Rating: PG – 13
Warning: SLASH implied. Bad words. Nazi stuff. If you don't know what a sodomite is, email me. I'll set you straight.
Outright Begging: Please review!
Germany. May 1945.
Come with me.
I cannot tell if it is a request or a command. I do not care to know.
"No. Not after what you did."
"I did nothing! I had no part in it! Surely you trust me that much? Love?"
You try to touch me; I shy away, look at the ground. "Not now. Not in a place so public. They do not understand. Not in a world so cruel. I am still hurting."
You look at me, I cannot see into your eyes. He has put walls over them; he has made you unrecognizable to me. You walk away, disappearing almost instantaneously into the crowed bus loop. I am lost again. "Oh will you leave me again?" I whisper. Will you abandon me again? I am flying apart, and you are not there to catch me.
You joined him, didn't you? That man you went to see? The speaker? You went home with him, did you? Was it a good fuck, my love?
Mocking, biting words. Will you not come back? Please love. I am sorry. But. You did. You did. You abandoned me; betrayed me. And to him, no less. He who hated my kind. You knew he hated my people. He was trying to destroy us all! Could you not see it? Were you really so blind?
I see you walking later. You have your head bowed down; your collar is up against the wind. Are you as sorrowful as you look? Or are you just going out to find another like him? I run up to you; you are startled. "Where are you going?"
"Out where? With whom?"
"Just out. Why do you give a fuck anyway? You already told me that you wanted nothing to do with me."
Was that a flash of sadness? Or was it just my imagination? As you turn your shoulder to me; brush past me; you speak.
"We could have done it, you know. You and I. We could have made them understand. We could have shown them that it does not matter what race or gender. It only matters that we can feel it."
You stop abruptly, as I am still trying to get my head to concentrate; I feel as though I am flying apart, would you, could you catch me? Or is it beyond you?
"Maybe the world will change for us." I was always hopeful. Naïve, perhaps, but always hopeful. "Maybe they will understand us. Someday. Not now. Not in a world so public."
"Or maybe we are the ones who have to change the world." You walk away, and I am lost once more.
You are right, though. Much as I hate you for what you did; you are right. I want to cry out. I am screaming in my head from this newfound knowledge. Yes. Yes.
We are wonderfully, truly, painfully in love, and we can force this disgraceful world understand.
There is a commotion up the street; I hear voices and shattering glass. I run towards the noise, worried. You went that way; what if something happened to you? I arrive just as they are taking you away. The frenzied mob is throwing rotten fruit at you, chanting viciously.
I look up at you; you are looking at me with such sadness. You are one of the accused. Why did you not tell me? There are whispers of betrayal all around me; I hear such damned words I want to shrink away from their voices. I look down at the cobbled street and cringe. Bastard. Sodomite. Traitor. I look up at you; I can still see your eyes. They are as dark as ever, still lively, though with the undercurrent of sorrow that has been there since he died. But I also see anger there; revenge. I am afraid. You cannot go up against them. You will lose. The world hates you. You and him.
You look at me, and I look away. You may think you can change what the world thinks of us, but you cannot change what you have done, innocent or not. The world thinks that you were involved in the camps; I know better, but what can I do?
I want to change the world. But I cannot. You should know that.