Omnia Vincit Amor

X.

"Vide et credere." -Latin phrase

See and believe.

Brett Yang does not want to believe it. He simply cannot love that man, Edward Chen. He simply cannot love any man at all, for it is illegal. He needs to swallow all these feelings and to digest them completely. He needs to throw it all away because it simply cannot be. He is not free to love Edward and he knows.

But that doesn't mean that he can forget the way the name Eddy Chen slipped away his tongue so gracefully. The way the taste dance in his tongue, so sweet yet there is a lingering bitterness to it. The way it glides down his tongue, so easily and effortless. It was simply beautiful and he had never spoken another's name that way. That was only reserved for Eddy Chen.

He cannot forget the wildfire that had spread throughout his bloodstream, fueling a desire that he was not intending on awakening. The poet in him was longing for love, a muse to always write about, a character basis for his novel, a someone who is consistent in his life and his art. He does not admit it but maybe his love.

But sadly, he has to let his rational side take over him. He does not need to ruin a potential career for love, no matter how great the love is. He would rather pursue a dream than love because love can come to him anytime. At least that's what he believed. It was overwhelming, all of this.

Brett knows that love will make him do stupid things. This is one example, dwelling on these thoughts and feelings as if Eddy Chen loves him back. Oh, to be loved back by Edward. To be loved and to love in return. Why does the concept seem so far away when the man was so close to him?

Did Eddy feel the same way as he did? Was it an illusion, the sensation that he had felt when their skin touched? The connection and the similarities between them, was it all fabricated in Brett's mind? Was he the only one who felt that between them? Because something that strong shouldn't be just a figment of his imagination.

Still, Brett Yang shook off the feeling and remembered what he had to do, what he would risk if he keeps this going, these feelings. He simply swiped it under the rug and decided that he still wants to live. He had a reputation to uphold so he does his best and practice. Music is the only thing that he loves more than anything or anyone.

Eddy Chen on the other hand could not stop thinking. He cannot stop thinking about all the possibilities of being with Brett Yang. From the simplest things to the more complex and bigger things, Eddy had thought about it all.

What would it feel like to hold hands with him? To be held by him with no shame, to be kissed by those soft lips, to be loved by those words that romances, to be with him? Oh, to be loved by Brett Yang. What would it feel like to be loved back by him?

Oh, to be free to love with Brett Yang. Edward Chen just wanted to love Brett Yang without the consequences of it being illegal. To be out with him in public and hold his hand, to own a house with him, to adopt children with him and most importantly, to be married to him. Oh, to be free and love Brett Yang.

It is so easy to think about these things as if it was fine for society to see a homosexual couple. Now, if their love was illegal, why does it feel so natural and so real? Why do they feel like 'normal' couples will if they were in the same disposition? It did not make sense to make loving illegal?

Am I a criminal because I am simply in love?

Edward thought as he dwelled on the thoughts of being with Brett Yang. Eddy thought of it as though Brett Yang loved him back. Who could love Edward, anyway? He is difficult and sometimes he is out of his mind. It does not matter, though.

All these thoughts are fantasies because Brett does not love him back. Should Edward make the first move and let his love be known? Would it be too bad if he told the older man the truth of where his heart lies? Where his mind wanders and where his soul longs to be? Was it too soon to call it love?

Edward opened his eyes and sighed deeply. His reverie was cut off by his older sister's voice.

"Eddy, I've been calling you for the past minutes, are you sure that you are not sick?" Belle asked, feeling his forehead to check for fever.

"I am grand, Belle. I'm simply just tired." He said, making such a terrible yet efficient excuse.

"Well, Eddy if you are tired, you shall rest. It is bad if you keep exhausting yourself."

"That is certainly true, now if you'll excuse me, I'll be heading to bed early."

"Certainly, younger brother."

After that exchange, Edward lied down on his bed and pulled the covers over his head. He closed his eyes and continued to imagine a life with Brett Yang. He could tell you that it certainly is a deadly idea to visualize things like this but he does not care anymore.

If I cannot have Brett Yang in this lifetime, then I might as well have him here. Even though they are merely dreams, it is better than not having him at all.

Edward convinced himself as he smiled. A sick fantasy but it was better than not having Brett at all. It was probably unhealthy on how he is trying to cope about being in love but he did not care anymore. If dreaming is the closest way he'll get to Brett, then he might as well never wake up again.

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.