| Dear God, It's Me, Lance |
| written by Robin |
| Dear God: Why is this happening to me? Why? Did I do something wrong? Did I screw up sometime or cross a certain line that has you forever hating me? I'm thinking I must have. Why else would you do this to me? Why? I never meant to fall in love with him, I really didn't. It just sort of ... happened. One of those unexplainable things that happens and turns your entire world upside-down. I love him. I hate that I love him, but I do. I, James Lance Bass, am in love with another man. Ten minutes. That's how long I stared at that last sentence before continuing on. I can't believe I actually wrote it down. In ink. Black ink. I guess that makes it permanent, huh? I just keep asking myself, where did I go wrong? What could I have possibly said or done to make you hate me this much? Why, God? Why? Why do *I* have to be different? I've never had many friends, you and I both know that. I was always the quiet, smart, perpetually shy kid in school. The first one the teacher called on, yet the last one to be picked for soccer. And my hair! You must have hated me right from the start. But finally, FINALLY, I am no longer the awkward teenager I used to be. I've grown up, and made four of the best friends I have ever had in my life. Joey, who can always make me smile, Chris, who can always make me laugh, Justin, who I love hanging out with, and JC, who I can talk to about anything. Hell, I'm famous, I'm somewhat popular, and I have enough money to retire at age 23 for the rest of my life. I thought things were looking up. Then... I fell in love. With Justin. Why is it when things are finally going good in my life something ALWAYS manages to fuck it all up? I just have one question for you... Why me? ~Lance PS-Hope the tears don't make reading too difficult... ~*~ Dear God: Justin and I have the two-man bus. Again. How I can I be so happy and so miserable at the same time? We have a long drive to the next city today. Justin hasn't stopped complaining for the past four hours. I kind of like the slight rock of the bus as we cruise down the interstate. It usually puts me straight to sleep. Not right now though. I have too much on my mind. I'm sitting on a beanbag chair in the back room right now. Justin's stretched out on the couch, fast asleep. His lips are parted slightly and he's even snoring a bit. I'm not sure if it's just the light, but I think I can see a little drool at the corner of his mouth. How can he be so beautiful, even when he's drooling? I heard a quote once, said by an anonymous person. It read, "A person is never perfect until you fall in love with them." This "anonymous" person must have met Justin before. I figure that maybe, just maybe, if I thought about all of Justin's bad qualities, I might fall out of love with him. Here goes nothing ... he's pissy in the morning, he's a pig when he eats, he never cleans up after himself, he leaves his dirty laundry *all* over the room, he talks in his sleep, he drools, he belches, he likes to wake me up by tickling me until I wet myself, he laughs too loud, he whines every chance he gets, AND, he's a big baby when he's sick. Tell me, why is it I find myself thinking of all of these things as part of Justin's "unique" personality instead of as annoying qualities? I will never understand love. ~Lance ~*~ Dear God: Just got off the phone with Mama. She sounded happy to hear from me. Justin even insisted on talking to her for a while. Another point on the big "Love-O-Meter." I could hear him laughing about something with her, so I know they were talking about me. It made me smile, and I *know* I blushed as well. I always do. It's the effect he has on me. I feel guilty because I didn't really listen to Mama when she was talking. My mind just couldn't seem to focus and fully comprehend what she was saying. All I kept thinking was, would she sound this happy if she knew what I was? A gay man? A fag? Her homosexual son? Would I even *be* her son anymore? I hate crying. It always makes me feel like a weakling. I need to be strong. After all, isn't it my fault that I'm gay? I can't blame it on anybody else. Nobody is forcing me to like men. Nobody is making me subscribe to The Advocate. Nobody made me fall in love with Justin. Nobody but me. I don't want to go to Hell. ~Lance ~*~ Dear God: Britney's visiting Justin on tour again. God, I really want to hate her. I do. She's so perfect, so innocent and sickeningly sweet that I just want to slap her sometimes, and on top of it all, she has what I want. I'm not the one who gets to cuddle with Justin on cold nights. I don't get the privilege of holding his hand in public. Hell, I don't even get that in private. She has Justin in every way that I never will. So WHY can't I just hate her? Wouldn't that make the pain go away? I wish I could hate them both. They're perfect together. But I can't. I can't hate Britney. It's not her fault I want her boyfriend. As for Justin... I love him too much to hate him. It is exactly one minute after midnight, and I am alone. ~Lance ~*~ Dear God: One little bottle. Twenty little white pills. A tall glass of water will easily wash them all down. They look like the bitter kind that leave a bad taste in your mouth for a long while after you take them. It seems fitting. ~Lance ~*~ Dear God, Justin, JC, Chris, and Joey, I'm a coward, I know, but the pain is too intense. Say a prayer for my soul, if any of you even care. I'll miss you. Justin ... the tears are coming fast and my eyes are slightly blurry. I love you. Never forget that, even if you forget me. One empty bottle, and half a glass of water. Take care of each other. ~Love, Lance ~*~ Dear Justin: I'm so sorry. For what... I'm not sure. Sorry that I lied to you? Sorry that I tried to take the easy way out? (TRIED being the operative word there.) Maybe I'm even sorry that I didn't succeed. Whatever it was, I only know one thing for sure... I'm not sorry that I love you. ~Lance ~*~ Dear Justin: You were crying. I don't think I will ever forget the image of your red-rimmed eyes, puffy eyelids, and tear streaked cheeks as you latched onto me and begged me to stay. I'm sorry I caused you so much pain. I'm just sorry. Two days ago I wasn't sure, but now I think I can honestly *promise* I won't ever leave you again. If for nothing else, you are my reason to live. ~Lance PS- I love you, too. ~*~ Dear God: Justin convinced me to start writing you again. I'm sorry I doubted him; doubted you. I had myself so convinced that you made me fall in love with him to punish me, that I failed to see just what a blessing in disguise it was. I guess you really do work in mysterious ways. ~Lance PS-I'm not wrong, Justin isn't wrong, and neither is our love. Justin has made me write that sentence 100 times a day, everyday, since I was released from the hospital. Finally, I'm starting to believe it. THE END |