Et Nos Cedamus Amori

XLI.

"Quinon proficit deficit." -Latin phrase

He who does not advance, goes backwards.

"What do you mean kinda friends? Are you keeping something from me?" Eddy asked jokingly, still in disbelief from that information.

"Kinda thought you knew. I thought you knew how our past life played out from your visions." Brett replied, holding Eddy close.

"I don't really remember being with anyone else in the visions besides you, Belle and Alex." Eddy whispered.

"Let's go get that journal, then. So we could both remember in exact detail." Brett started, standing up and urging Eddy to do the same thing.

After saying their goodbyes and going to Brett's family home, they packed his things and immediately went to their apartment. He brought out Brett's stuff and immediately set themselves on the bed. The boxes can wait, but the journal can't. Especially Eddy's been dying of curiousity. After they were comfortable,  Eddy opened up a random page and started reading outloud.

- - - - -

September 18, 1860

How could I bare my heart and soul to my beloved if we are both men? How do I freely love him if we cannot be accepted by my family, his family, our society and the world? How could I tell him I love him if he might be repulsed by me if I speak what my heart wants to scream out?

How can I tell him that I love him without the risk of it being illegal? Tell me, how is it so wrong for me to love? Tell me, am I such a criminal just because I am in love? Tell me, is it really that repulsive if I love him more than I ever loved myself?

I do not understand, if it is so illegal to love a man if I am also man, then why did I love him? I certainly did not choose to love him. I just love him and is it so wrong?

Why does it hurt every time I imagine a life without ever knowing him? I cannot contain and internalize all these feelings. Is writing about him fueling the passion that already burns in my chest? Oh, I just want to be free with my love? Is that so much to ask for?

I do not think of these things intentionally but there are some thoughts that I entertain when I am alone at night, lonely and cold. I imagine him underneath me, open and willing. Waiting and anticipating my next move, will I enter or shall I tease him more? I imagine how his voice would sound like, his sighs and his delectable moans. All the incoherent mumbles that only he could produce if my skin comes alive with his?

Other times, when I am in lesser need, I imagine him holding onto me. Clinging to me for his dear life, begging me to always stay with him. I want to tell him that he does not need to ask me such a favor because I will gladly do it without him even asking. I imagine running my fingers through his soft hair and lulling him to sleep with a lullaby that is reserved only for him. I imagine his hands wrapped around my back as I hold him close when we are sleeping.

I imagine kissing him tenderly and loving him the way he deserves to be loved. It is hard to imagine how lost I would be if he was not around. I want to make him believe that I have control when he is the one controlling me, how bewitching those eyes are, how tempting those lips are and how his inhales have now become my exhales and my exhales have now become his inhales. It is out of question, though. I still have a lot of them constantly running on my mind but I believe it does not matter.

We must reinvent love.

- - - - -

"I never really realized that love was harder for people who loved the same sex or gender as them." Eddy started.