I Think I Just Gave Away the Ending..

by Pomona the Dream Diva

Author's Note: The song is called 'Crying Like a Church on Monday' by the New Radicals, so to Gregg Alexander the due credit goes. The name of the fic then again is from yet another song of his, 'I Hope I Didn't Just Give Away The Ending'. Daniel's pov. And it's meant to be a bit dreamy... hence the not so realistic, every-day e-mail conversation effect. Just angst, purest form.

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I was dancing
With your shadow
Slow down memories’ hall
I said wait
Have I been seduced and forgotten?
You said baby, haven’t we all?

From: DJones
To: DHayes
Subj: Re: What do you think, Jonesy?

Dear Darren... I don’t know which word to emphasize more.

I know you’re wondering why there’s nothing attached to this message. I know it’s my turn to share some of my own. But truth be told, without you there is no music.

I close my eyes for a bit and lean against the firm, concrete wall behind me. A wall which I’ve been savagely cast on in a moment of heated passion. Also a wall which I’ve used to support me whenever tears of overwhelming sorrow have been welling up my eyes and falling down my shaking form. It’s difficult to remember which of those has happened more often. It never used to be that way. I used to be confident in love, in life. My eyes used to bear a shimmer to them, my reflection content.

I used to have a pair of arms that would wrap themselves around me when I felt I couldn’t make it through the night without the solace they provided, a pair of arms that would greet me with a warm hug when joy was utmost. I used to have a pair of slate blue eyes that would gaze into mine in utter seriousness, like when we first kissed... or in happiness which words could not describe, like when I was lying in bed with you, our fingers entwined, after we had made love for the first time. I used to have lips that would curl into a blissful smile when I took your hand in mine, lips that would kiss me in fierce want or gentle affirmation. I used to have the softest curls of hair imaginable to run my fingers through, or almost tear away in desire. I used to have hands that knew where to find all the right spots, fingertips that would caress me lightly, opening the gates of heaven for me.

I used to have my Darren. Was I ever ’your Daniel’?

Now I don’t like crying
Because it only gets me wet
But I can’t help failing
To remember to forget you
And I know it’s gonna be a long time

A stream of warm tears is staining my shirt again, I’m still helplessly lovelorn and tragically alone. And it’s been seven months, twelve days, three hours and... 27 minutes. You’ve moved on. No, you’ve moved away. Your moving on is what has me in this state, what started this surge of gut-wrenching pain inside of me. I know it’s endless, the wounds will never heal. There are some things time just doesn’t surpass, I’ve come to accept that. The strange thing about love is that even though you fall in it head over heels... you can never fall out. Not when it’s real. And this is. This was. I still remember that day, the very moment when we truly saw each other for the first time, for what we were worth. Not as songwriting partners, not as close buddies. I still can’t quite find the words for it. It was written in your eyes though when you opened my dressing room door and slid in after another successful gig in another warmly welcoming city. It was stitched in your every moment when you approached me, placing your hands on my shoulders while I was standing there packing up my gear, my back facing you. I guess we both knew the moment I didn’t jump back. I stayed. And after that the world as we knew it was permanently different. For me.

Wish I could speak for you, but I can’t. I just can’t. But I can ask you.

Now I’m crying like a church on Monday
Praying for these feelings to go away
So do me a favor baby
Put down your new God
And love me like Sunday again

For months everything seemed perfect. We created our own paradise and existed in it. Stealing a moment here and there. I felt like nothing could come between us. This was the way it was always meant to be. Fate. Destiny. Guidance. I’ll be the first to admit I was scared. Frightened to feel so happy, so safe. But all it took was one squeeze of your hand for me to sense it was right. And I still believe you had to sense it too. But I guess you wanted no one else to know. Your ex-soulmate did but even in her presence you used to brush it off with a chuckle, like someone had just asked you why the chicken crossed the road. Me on the other hand? I was willing to step on a roof and scream from the top of my lungs. Was that so wrong? I pushed all the negative thoughts back by convincing myself that your seemingly endless will to keep it private was because you felt what we had was sacred. Something magical. Like everything we ever did.

But I got anxious. Giving out small hints. Holding your hand maybe a few seconds too many at a promotional event. Gazing at you when you spoke about our music with your trademark tenderness. Creeping closer to you during our concerts. Then backstage, behind a closed door... "Daniel stop making such an ass of yourself!"

I wonder if that was all that I ever was to you. Just a random ass. An experiment. A project. A way for you to come out wearing your true colors. I shake my head, letting nicotine take over my worn-out existence. Fill my senses. Like you do. If I’m honest with myself, I know you cared for me. That’s the point. That’s exactly why it hurts the way it does.

Because you loved me. You did and you could never deny it.

I was hiding in your bedroom
When I saw him come inside
I can’t live in his shadow
Is that where I’m dancing till I die?

Slowly but surely, things changed. One night when I tried to kiss you, you pulled back, claiming you had a headache. One time quickly became too many. You kept pushing me away, your once so sincere and joyful smile became a forced smirk when directed at me. Those light touches that we had always been known for sharing, just not in the way we meant them, became non-existent. And God knows I tried. I tried to get you to talk about it, to open up to me, explain to me what was wrong. I was confident I could fix it. Because I could never imagine... imagine...

... ’it’ being another man. Until that fateful night when I came home, slightly drunk after consuming a few beers too many at a local pub. Worrying over you. Ironically enough, I was really going to confront you that night, let you know how I felt, as if you didn’t know already, and ask you to tell me what was causing friction because I couldn’t take it anymore. I longed for you... I missed you, with every cell of my body even though you were right there next to me every day, every night. Physically, mentally you seemed to be miles away in a place I just couldn’t reach. My attempts at touching you, reaching out for you, had become desperate. Even so that I often found tears trickling down my cheeks when I struggled to show my affection, to make you respond in the way you used to. You never seemed to notice them. You seemed numb. And it made me want to scream.

Which I did moments after I had opened our front door that night, completely unprepared for what was about to face me. I made my way through our once so emotion-filled flat, calling out your name since you were nowhere to be seen. And when you finally filled my vision, I didn’t want to see you anymore. I thought I was going to suffocate but yet the voice of a suffering man filled the room, echoing off the walls. I found you in the arms of another man. Your eyes regretful but cold, strangely still reflecting what I was feeling. I could see my misery in them. Noticing my emotional state which wasn’t far away from suicidal, you courteously escorted him out the door, returning to me, curled up against "our" bed. Sobbing silently. I didn’t even budge when you sat next to me and held me, for hours. When I finally found some kind of solace, I turned to you and placed my lips on yours in utmost despair. And I felt it again, I felt your love for me in you. Until you pulled away.

Moments later you were out the door, I was still sitting on the floor with a crumpled note in my shaking hands, bearing only the words ’I’m sorry.’ on it.

Now I don’t light candles
Because they make me see the light
That I can’t help failing
To remember to forget you
And I know it’s gonna be a long time

I may never know what you truly meant by that. Were you begging for my forgiveness for the one-off that both of us somehow knew would never happen again? After all, since then you’ve been only surrounded by gorgeous beauties, yes, of the opposite sex. You know it’s funny how I never thought of gender when it came to you. You were just Darren. I guess I was just Daniel for you as well, if I can interpret this correctly. Two halves of a whole. Yin and Yang.

Were you sorry for loving me too little? Or too much? I wish I knew.

As this "letter" is closing to an end, I can feel the throe that has consumed my whole being for months now finally starting to loosen it’s grip. But there’s one more thing to say. The sole purpose of this scribbling that you might never gaze your eyes upon.

More painfully than anything we’ve ever been through, it hurts me how we're virtually "back to our old selves", still succeeding in being further away from it than ever. After you moved away from me, from the Big Pineapple as we called it, we’ve been calling each other fairly often, exchanging zip files of music via the internet. Yes, as weird as it is to see it in writing, working on a new album. One day you just phoned and I found myself picking up and soon we were chatting like nothing had happened. Like things were back to how they were before you ever laid your hands on me. Memories faded, exchanged vows forgotten. We were still able to find ourselves on that spiritual level that surrounded us every time we sat down to write music together. Well I’m here to tell you that it isn’t enough. I can’t take it anymore.

You’re coming to town this weekend for our working session. It’ll be the first time I’ve seen you since... seven months and counting. And I’m quite aware that I might be tossing even that chance away by writing all this down for you to see.

But it’s a necessity for me, not a choice. Loving you never was a choice to begin with.

The past needs to be dealt with for there to be a future. If you want nothing but friendship, I can live with that. I have so far. But you have to tell it to my face.

I’ll be waiting, Darren. See you this Saturday,

Daniel

P.S. I loved those lyrics. I think that song should definitely be released as a single.

Now I’m crying like a church on Monday
Praying for these feelings to go away
So do me a favor baby
Put down your new God
And love me like Sunday again

~finis~