Confessions

Note: To Nicolas. And Armand. And of course, Rachel. I love you all.

Fact or fiction, Armand? This dare called for writing and now you have it, but you did not say that there need be any truth to it at all. You know me better than most. Who could better judge the honesty of my words? Time and time again you have glimpsed the thoughts that lurk within the clouded depths of my mind. Have you any idea of the memories which haunt me when I close my eyes at the coming of every dawn? Search your own mind for the answers to these questions you have asked. I have no doubt that you will find them there. You’ve known them all along.

What does it really mean, to forgive? To drown the anger that still burns deep within my soul... to set aside any transgressions of the past? You have your demons and I have mine. To push them aside would be to deny a significant piece of myself. The rage and the pain are all a part of who I am. I can never count the number of times that you hurt me. Bruises and broken bones meant nothing to me. Such things heal quickly among our kind; yet the scars will always remain, hidden, safely out of sight... a perfect reminder of why what we both wanted could never be. Hurt me, break me and stain your alabaster hands with my blood, these things can be forgiven... but never turn your back on me. That is the ultimate betrayal.

Ah, but as often as you tore me down you also lifted me up on a cloud of sweet elation. I was dying inside. The love and the hate that once consumed me had burned down to nothing but a glowing ember. The others were lifeless and I was doomed to become one of them. Marionettes on broken strings. They needed me to quicken them, to pull the strings that would lead them into this new life but how could I guide them when my own soul was so cold and numb?

It was in that time of absolute darkness that I turned to you to light the way. You... so detached and apathetic. To see that spark of anger in your eyes would stir those deep emotions which I had thought were lost forever. God, how I hated you! Yet, how I loved you! There were times when I wanted to tangle my fingers in those soft auburn curls and dash your head against the wall, and in that very same moment I longed to pull you close and devour those cupid’s bow lips with mine. To torment you was bliss. You often left me hanging on the verge of the most overwhelming ecstacy... yet one step too close would send me tumbling back into the abyss. It was always an exhilarating balancing act between us.

Must I say the words? I tormented you because you made me feel. I would have perished of my own doing within those first few years without you to give it all meaning. You were my life, Armand. You forced me to carry on when I lacked the strength to do it alone.

In those last troubled years... the plays I wrote were for you alone. You know that, don’t you? They were a release from the darkness but they were also so much more than that. Everything that you ever wished to know of me had been scribbled onto those pages. My characters said the words I could have never spoken. Nothing was ever hidden from you. It was all right there in the scripts. The music expressed it best of all. Every time my bow came down upon the strings in a fierce crescendo or in a hushed elegy... it was all for you.

The answers you seek lie buried just beneath the surface, Armand. Everything that I ever felt was there upon the painted stage for all to see. Wander the empty hallways of your memories and you shall find them there. And I; I'll always, always love you.