Omnia Vincit Amor

XLVI.

"Forsan miseros meliora sequentur." -Virgil

For those in misery, perhaps better things will follow.

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky was set on premiering the symphony exactly at October 28. He did not have an exact reason for doing so, he just found that the date was very important. It was now the 28th, and Pyotr wanted to hear his work come alive before he goes.

His friends and family were there, Brett and Eddy watching the whole symphony orchestra unravel what might be considered as a farewell note. Maybe, Pyotr was smart enough to hide his goodbyes in a symphony.

The couple were cautious in public, since they were in Russia, they had to be careful with their action. Even if it seemed like it means no harm, that is not how the Russian government would view it. They were merciless when it comes to the famous Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, what more mere visitors like Brett and Eddy?

So, they sat together. To serve as comfort or support or whatever else Pyotr might need, Brett and Eddy will be there for him. They will be with him until the end of his days. Because this is what friends do. He will be conducting his symphony soon and he wants to let it ring out and end on a mellow note.

The first movement was majestic. It is what you will expect from Pyotr himself. It was the way Pyotr composed and its beauty was out of this world. This was his goodbye and he had to embrace it.

This was a recollection of happier days. The glory he had when he was in love with Brett. This was when he had started music, started composing... Grand gestures of love and everything else in between from his childhood.

This was the point in his life where he was truly happy.

The second movement is a bit more gentle. It starts off like a lullaby and moves even more gracefully. The ballets that he had written before, it all spilled in the second movement. A memoir of the miserable moments of his life.

It was a reflection of what he had felt when he was with Antonina. What he had felt when Brett had told him that he cannot return the feelings. The day his mother died. It all flashed in front of him.

The point in his life when he was deep in a ditch that he cannot get out of. Yet, he was the one who digged his own ditch. He will be the only one who will be able to get himself out.

The third movement is the bit of hope that he had the moment he fell in love with Davydov. The hope he had when the couple was living with him. The support and how they felt for him. Tchaikovsky didn't have the time to mourn, so the two did.

It was how he stayed strong and put a wall of courage. He is not ashamed of who he is. He is not ashamed of who he loved. This was his pride. This movement was his liberation from the world's judgment.

He was about to let go now.

The roar of applause is ringing in Tchaikovsky's ears but he does not stop them from playing his fourth movement. The people sit down and stay quiet as the lament of the fourth movement comes.

This is Tchaikovsky's mourning. The one that he simply cannot bring out for himself. He brings it out through his music. The misery, the pain, the farewell, the bitter, it is all present in this movement.

This is where Tchaikovsky poured it his all. This was the last symphony he will ever write, after all. This is what he has to offer. This is what he uses as a voice. This is where he could speak up.

He did not let his tears fall but the music says it all.

Tchaikovsky let it drag on, to let the others hear his cry for help. His cry for change, his cry. His mourning for his own life. He let them leave scars through the notes. This was how he was going to go. Slowly and painfully.

The symphony had come to an end. The audience was quiet, the last few notes ringing in the venue, Brett, Eddy and most of the audience had tears in their eyes. When Pyotr bowed, the applause starts again. This time now rightly timed.

Pyotr felt good. He had felt like he had given his best now. He could go without worries. They all now had something from him that will leave imprints in their hearts and minds. Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky gave it his all.

People started leaving while Brett and Eddy, alongside of Davydov and Modest, were waiting for Tchaikovsky. They all went outside of the venue and carried on to a carriage heading to their home.

They all went to his home and suddenly, everything felt right in Tchaikovsky's feeling.

"Are you okay, Ilyich?" Brett asked, immediately wrapping the man in an embrace.

"I am, Kotik. I feel somehow more free. I like it..." Pyotr comforted, hugging Brett back and pulling away.

Eddy did the same but he had no words when he wrapped Pyotr in his arms. Modest and Davydov did not know his plan and he wanted it to remain that way. Pyotr was glad he already let out all of the things that he had suppressed for almost his entire life.

Modest prepared their tea as Brett's shaking hands would only cause more commotion. They all drank tea and had conversations about everything and anything. As soon as the evening is over, Brett and Eddy went to their room and talked everything through.

"I cannot imagine the pain he is going through..." Eddy started, placing himself in Brett's arms.

"Me too, love..." Brett whispered back, kissing Eddy's cheek for a little bit and pulling away to hold him closer to his chest.

"No matter what happens, I just want him to be happy..." Eddy said, words muffled by the cloth of Brett's shirt.

"He will be in a better place... One where he could be himself and finally love. Honey, he is strong. He will be fine." Brett said, rubbing Eddy's upper arm.

Eddy looked up to Brett with a soft look in his eyes. Brett was struggling to see in the dark but he could feel the loving stare from his beloved. He held Eddy by the waist and kissed whatever his lips could reach. Eddy smiled and leaned in closer.

"I love you..."

"I love you, too..."

October 29, 1893

The moment I wake up with my beloved in my arms, I cannot help but feel lucky. My love is requited and I cannot ask for anything more. I only wish that men like me could have their love like mine. I want them to love as freely as me.

I wish Pyotr the best. I hope he could go to a place where he could love whoever he might desire. I just want him to love as freely as I do. Then again, I do not love freely. I cannot scream to the world how much I love his beloved and only him.

I want to live in this world where all types of love is accepted. I only know that love knows no reason nor bounds. I only love and I hope everyone else can, too. I want to show that homosexuals loving each other is the same as heterosexuals loving.

There is no difference when you are in love and everyone should understand.

I want everyone to know that my love for him is normal and not a sin. I may love the same body as mine but that does not make a difference. I hold him close to heart and my hands. I do not have to own him in order for my love to be his and his alone.

If I could chose to love freely, the first thing I will do is show the world how proud I am of this love of mine. I love him so much and I could not express it well with words. I could only hold him close and hope the he could hear my heartbeat that is for him.

I am complete without him but he makes me feel full. Nothing could ever be better than just being present in his life, being a constant and always staying by his side. He is much more than I could have ever asked for.

I live for him now and I could only hope that I do not have to be torn apart from him.

The mind could lie but the heart will always speak of the truth. I hold him as if I would not let go and he does the same. To my savior and my Lord, I thank you for this love of mine. I thank you until my last breath.