Deep within my heart the tiny flame of hope continued to reside. My relationship with Lee was turbulent on the bad days, which were often. Any good days we saw while in hospital were always short lived. There were months of therapy where Lee's emotional state wavered like the wind. Lee would be pleased I was there to support him and then resentful it was me. This rollercoaster of emotions took a heavy toll on us both.
Many times I wondered if his girlfriend had survived or the accident never occurred, would our relationship be any different. Or if he never left the country, we may have overcome the challenges facing us. But regardless of this it became clear, Lee was torn between his desire to be with me and the stigma this desire brought. Embedded deep within both of us a connection firmly held us together. This connection, so tightly woven around us never allowed us to accept the nature of our relationship. And because of this we were stuck in an endless loop of avoidance and denial.
In those first few months my devotion to Lee ignored his outbursts. I held him when he broke down and until he's body slumped and gave in. When Lee did this a small part of us would reconnect as we had done once before. These small moments allowed the flame of hope to burn. Always calm in Lee's presence, I spent every moment I wasn't working with him. The world around us didn't matter.
Work proved to be more interesting than I anticipated. Although I saw Ken rarely, if not at all, the people I worked with were polite and courteous, always grateful for my service. The reputation I grew and the connections I made began to grow my network within and out of the corporation. I was well on my way to a position of importance if I remained loyal and never questioned my work.
When the time came for Lee to leave the clinic he gave in, residing in the fact we needed each other to survive. He moved in with me, but we did not share the same bedroom. He had his room and I mine. Although our relationship had gone no further than a strong brotherhood, sometimes the sexual tension between us was noticeable. But neither of us acted on it.
With Lee up and moving again, he took up a position in the same company I worked for. He taught the children of the directors and CEO's both English and Japanese. This became a turning point for Lee. He never admitted my being there made a difference but sometimes I would catch him staring at me and see a look of gratefulness on his face. We fell into a rhythm that worked and were able to ignore the unanswered questions we were afraid to ask.
In his spare time, I encouraged Lee to draw his own manhwa. This became his one pleasure in life. Lee spent hours in the evenings drawing in his books and I spent hours watching him. On the nights I worked late he didn't draw, and I often found him asleep on the lounge, the television on and the sound off. I wouldn't wake him on those occasions but sit and watch him until I knew I too had to sleep.
Our relationship was at a point where we were both too scared to return to those nights we had while in jail. Yet the undercurrent of sexual tension continued to bubble under the surface. I knew of its presence, and I did nothing.
One day, four years later I came home to find Lee drunk. I never knew what triggered his breakdown but seeing him in that state brought to the surface feelings I continued to ignore. He'd been through one bottle of scotch and started a second. Sprawled out over the lounge crying, the scene broke my heart. When I went to comfort him I paused and instead sat on the table in front of him. This response triggered something within Lee and his anger came to the surface and he lashed out. Lee's first hit didn't surprise me and I took it. The next hit I blocked and the sequential hits I deflect with a few of my own. All the time Lee screamed it was my fault. And perhaps he was right. If I left him alone Lee wouldn't be suffering. But I didn’t want to lose him. I took his hits until he staggered against me and I grab him in a tight embrace and held him.
Lee struggled before giving up.
"Don't fight me Lee. This, what we have between us, is difficult, but it is what it is. If you want to leave, I will support your decision."
"It confuses me Cody. I don't want to feel like this anymore. I wish I were dead."
Lee’s drunken confession hurt me more than I would like to admit. I held him tight afraid what might happen if I let go. The tormented thoughts I fought hard to ignore threatened to crush me. I had made a promise – to myself and Lee – I would be with him until death.
"Let's make a deal. Similar to the one we made in jail. Outside this apartment we're professionals, we do our job, no fear, no emotional attachments or commitments. In the apartment, we keep doing what we've been doing with the exception that having sex is an acceptable part of our life. We don't think about it. We don't question it. We don't fight it. Can you do that Lee, can you detach yourself from the fear holding you down?"
Lee didn't respond, but he was listening.
"If either of us wants to move on, not do this anymore, then we leave this place. No need for explanations. This way we both comprehend where we stand. Can you live with that Lee?"
Without looking at me, Lee pulled out of my arms and taking my hand, led me to his bedroom. The following day would lead to guilt-ridden depression, more so for Lee than myself. But I pushed all thoughts aside - we both needed this outlet. Our past insecurities, failures and disappointments held us together. Though I feared what might happen after - I said nothing.
Twelve years our relationship lasted. I wish I could say one of us matured enough to recognised the destruction of our relationship and move on. That was not the case. Over time, I watched Lee fight with his emotions and depression. We never spoke of it - never addressed the monster hidden behind closed bedroom doors. Gradually, Lee's depression took hold and rendered him incapable of working weeks at a time. Within a year Lee stopped working all together and this clear indication of his self-destruction was ignored. Endless days locked inside the apartment slowly drove Lee to drink. I made several attempts to draw Lee out but my efforts began to prove I made things worse. He gave up drawing, his entire collection one day vanished, and he never told me why and I never asked.
His continued isolation and withdrawal from society made me consider on a number of occasions to leave. I came close a few times, but I never did. The chains binding us together welded firmly in place without a means to break them. There were times I would hear Lee packing his bags in the small hours of morning. I would wait and listen as my emotions flittered between relief and regret. Lee never got as far as his bedroom door and there were times I heard him crying and I did nothing. Torn between what I wanted and what I feared - the strain on our relationship could no longer take the toll.
There were still nights I would wake to find Lee in my bed. I would hold him and we would forget ourselves and return to the place we once shared. These nights together I saw glimpses of the old Lee. But the flame of hope had long since expired and with every day after our nights together Lee's self torture would begin once more. And I would bury myself in my work afraid to witness Lee's decline. Our relationship was a time bomb waiting to explode and there were days I saw the end approaching.
We were on a ride afraid to get off. The outside world never saw the destruction of our relationship and we continued to ignore it. The bad days outweighed the good day to the point I couldn't recall a good day at all. Yet we continued with our agreement right to the end. We never knew how to communicate, never sort help, lost in our chaotic world we stumbled around each other. But through it all my desire to protect Lee remained. Although we would never overcome our insecurities, I loved Lee. There would never be another in my life whom I would dedicate myself too. I truly believe Lee loved me but we were scarred and together we survived on instinct. Life had not been easy for either of us and together we dwelled on our misery and did nothing to drive it away.
Which brings me to my current point in time. Why I'm remembering these events. We did love each other in a warped way but the fact neither of us accepted our relationship destroyed us.
I came home tonight to find Lee drunk on the lounge but as I sat and looked at him as I have always done; I realised we had reached the end. His body lifeless lay splayed over lounge, his features etched in torment. Many times I wanted to hold Lee in my arms and tell him everything would be all right, but never did. Or tell him I loved him and never did. It was over and I felt nothing. Lee had succumbed to the ending he longed.
With care, I carried Lee to his bedroom, clean his lifeless body and dressed him in his best suit. A quick glance around his small tidy room void of any photos or personal belongings brought home the life Lee had tried to avoid. I returned to my room, sat on the edge of my bed and ignored the tears that fell.
The pain etched in my heart hurt more than I cared to admit. The flame of hope I had long thought lost finally died with the trembling of my hands as I reached for the bottom draw in the bedside cabinet.
I retrieved the small bottle of pills I kept there. Illegal but easy to obtain from my connections made. I often thought to leave them out for Lee but I never managed to. That's the one thing about life – no matter how bad it gets it's the hope something will change for the better that keeps us moving forward. But there was no hope for us. There never was. We knew this and still did nothing to change it.
With the pill bottle on the top of my bedside cabinet, I showered and changed into a clean suit. I lay on my bed my thoughts calm and the path before me clear. The only sound within the room was the rattle of the small pill bottle as I reached for it. I removed the lid and spilled several small blue pills into my hand. I didn't want the time remaining to linger as I swallowed the pills.
The wait would not be long - fear no longer my enemy. My life had no meaning without Lee. Those who knew me would not let my death affect them. I was replaceable. My life was Lee and although I believed I was the one who led to his demise, he loved me. I know he did.
The stigma of our love drove Lee over the edge. It surprised me he let it go on for so long. Relief wash over me or maybe it was the drug. The end was coming, and I looked forward to the freedom it brought.
The End
Comments (5)
See all