448. (Breaking) The Back of Love

Say what you will about Jonathan, one thing he was always good about was letting me preserve my stupid shreds of masculine dignity.

When he came in, my head was so far up my ass it took me a moment to even remember where I was and why. Oh fuck. I stood up quickly and wiped my face and said, all pretend-ignorant, “Oh hey.”

“Hey,” he said calmly, letting me get myself together while he took off his jacket and acted like everything was normal.

I’m terrible at acting normal. But it was important to me for some reason to try to regain some kind of footing. So I tried too hard. “How was your day?” Cringe.

He played along. “All right. I had a walk. Picked up the newspaper. Worked up a thirst. You want some juice?”

“Um, sure.” I followed him to the kitchen where he poured us each a half glass of orange juice because that was all we had left. Yeah, insert relationship metaphor right here. “Read anything interesting in the paper?” I was still trying too hard.

“The hard line Communist regime in Czechoslovakia fell yesterday,” he said earnestly, and then drank his juice in one gulp.

I sipped mine but discovered I couldn’t actually stomach it. “Ah. Wow.”

He looked like he was going to say something, then stopped himself and put his glass in the sink. He swirled some water in it and then put it down with a quiet click of the glass against the thin metal.

“I’m ready to talk,” I blurted out, before I could chicken out. “I mean, I know I don’t seem like I’m ready, but, I guess what I’m trying to say is we better get it over with since really there’s no such thing as a good time for it, you know?”

“I know. Should we sit down?”

“Good idea. Living room?”


I abandoned the juice on the kitchen counter. We went and sat somewhat stiffly side by side on the couch. I wasn’t sure where to start. That’s just as well because Jonathan, on the other hand, had been rehearsing what he was going to say.

“This is all my fault,” he said. Like many pre-rehearsed speeches, a bunch came out in a rush. “I’m sorry I’ve been so emotionally unavailable. I think if I weren’t trying so hard all the time to convince myself that the writing for television thing is working out well then maybe I’d have enough emotional energy to actual participate in this relationship. I’ve been living the ultimate ‘fake it till you make it’ scenario and that’s only supposed to be for careers and not for relationships and I’m sorry.”

I stared for a second. None of that was what I was expecting him to say so it took some extra time to process. “Uh. And here I thought I was the one who wasn’t putting my heart into it.”

He sighed. “Daron. I’ve known you’ve been just playing house to humor me for a while.”

Those were my words: “playing house.” But I’d never said them to Jonathan for fear of hurting his feelings. And now that he was saying them to me, they hurt MY feelings. “You make it sound like I didn’t even try to make it work.”

He winced. “Did you?”

I closed my eyes for a second. “Is trying to figure out what you want all the time ‘humoring you’? Because if it is, then yeah, that’s all I’ve been doing.”

“Wait, what?” For once it was Jonathan who seemed to feel the conversation had taken a sudden left turn. “What do you mean trying to figure out what I want all the time?

“I mean… trying to figure out what you want all the time. You want me home for dinner or you don’t eat. Then you want me to figure out what we should eat for dinner. If I don’t pick the right thing, you’re unhappy. You want me to figure out when it’s okay to ask for sex and when it isn’t. We never ever have sex unless I ask, so it’s up to me to figure out when you want me to ask, because if I even ask at the wrong time we have a fight.” I cleared my throat. “Just to name the two biggest examples.”

His mouth hung open a little. “You make me sound like the world’s biggest prima donna.”

“No. No, that’s not it at all. Jonathan, I’ve been in relationships with two prima donnas and you’re not even close. What I’m saying is… in the spirit of genuinely trying to improve myself… is that humoring you? Is that me being a therapy case? Or is that what people who love each other are supposed to do?”

His breath caught, because I caught him by surprise again. “You’ve never said you love me.”

Fuck. Somehow I had become the adult in this conversation and Jonathan had become the trembly-lipped five-year-old with no filters. “I know. I… I know. I… never felt the time was right for it.”

“Then you never felt it strongly enough to mean it,” he said, not at all like an accusation, just like a fact. A sad fact.

“I’m sorry.” My voice was rough. “I’m… Listen. We were talking about not putting enough emotional energy into the relationship. Most of my emotional energy was used up on the road and what I had left? Left the country a couple of months ago.”

“I know,” he whispered, looking defeated.

I wasn’t sure if it was okay to hug him at that point. I mean, I’d just admitted I didn’t love him and he’d admitted he knew it, in which case was I even allowed to try to comfort him or was that just plain wrong?

I pressed on. “So, is that what went wrong? Was I doing the right thing but it came out as humoring or pandering because I didn’t love you enough?”

He shook his head. “I…” He shook his head again, trying to get his words together. “I had no idea you were shouldering so much.”

“What do you mean, you had no idea?”

“I didn’t even realize you were doing it.”

“I was doing everything I could to make it all work smoothly and be as good to you as I could.”

He put a hand over his eyes. “Including monogamy.”

“You pretty much accused me of wanting to go out and get my dick sucked when you said no,” I pointed out.

“I know. And that wasn’t at all how I meant it. I was… Never mind how I was. I was out of my mind. If I had even half a brain, or any energy to deal with this, I would have realized what was going on much earlier. I wouldn’t have been such a nutcase about sex, either.” He gently pounded his fist against his thigh. “How did I end up the one holding out on sex? That doesn’t even make sense. I’m usually the one who wants more.”

“Maybe you really don’t know how to handle someone with a higher libido than yours.”

“Okay, say it’s a learning experience.” He gave a small nod, like he was determined to figure something, anything, out. “How often do you think the ideal is?”

“We had sex every day in Mexico,” I pointed out.

“But that was a vacation. I mean, long term.”

“With work and stuff…?” I considered it seriously. “I’d still say once a day, mostly quickies or just handjobs until the weekends maybe, but… yeah. ”

Jonathan bit his lip. “We’ve really gotten into a Saturday afternoon rut, haven’t we.”

“Yeah.” I felt like the gears had shifted, like we forgot we were having a breakup conversation and slipped into talking about the relationship in the present tense again. “I didn’t really want to make waves by asking for more, and I wasn’t sure I was entitled to. Part of me says if we’re only going to fuck on Saturdays, then I could just come over once a week without living with you. If the other six days of the week we’re just housemates, fine but… my other housemates don’t insist I do their laundry with them. And yeah, it’s nice to eat together, but none of them nearly pass out from low blood sugar because they’re waiting for me.”

“Well, of course not. They’re living separate lives. A relationship is exactly the opposite. It’s that giving up of autonomy to be part of a pair.”

“And that’s what I did, J. That’s exactly what I did.”

“Yeah, you did.” He looked a little terrified, then. “Can I tell you? How won–wond–” He paused to swallow hard. “I could not have made it through these last few months without you being here for me. Part of me… hoped you liked it better than you let on. Or that you would come to like it better. And even though I knew you were just going through the motions a lot of the time, it helped me. I love you being here with me. I love that you tried.” His voice got stronger. “No, you weren’t ‘humoring’ me. You’re right. You were doing your best. You were doing great. It’s like I said. It’s my fault for being so drained.”

“Okay, back up. So… you were only putting in a fraction of the necessary emotional energy, and I was only putting in a fraction…”

“It’s a miracle we lasted this long?” Jonathan hazarded.

“Basically.” I took a calming breath. “But if we’ve each only invested a little… then shouldn’t it be easy to break up?”

“You’d think.” He pressed his hands together. “I know you’ve been fantasizing about leaving. The fact that you haven’t gives me hope that we can still work it out.”

“Work what out?”

“The relationship. That maybe now that all our cards are out on the table we can still deal a winning hand.”

“Are all our cards on the table?”

“Let me see if I’m missing anything. You’re in love with Ziggy, your career’s stalled, you need sex every day, and you love me enough to work really fucking hard to please me even if that’s not enough to make you say it. Right so far?”

I nodded.

“And on my side of the table we’ve got this. I never in a million years dreamed you’d actually take me up on moving in with me, Daron. I didn’t think I’d see you more than a quickie here or there in New York during the tour, and instead you ensconced me in your bed every night. I didn’t expect to go to Mexico with you. At every turn you gave me more and more. Can you blame me for thinking we had more than we did? You not only moved in, you turned yourself into my artistic sounding board, my muse, my confidant. Whenever I doubted myself you got me back on track. And whenever I did need something–food, sex, a boost to my self-esteem–you were there. My self-esteem is completely shot to hell. That’s made me into a person I don’t know. But you seem to know me pretty well.”

“We both need to get out of L.A.,” I said.


“No buts. Turn in your resignation, move to a student apartment in Providence, finish your fucking novel, and tell them where to send the fucking royalty checks.”


“Tell them you had to check into isolation rehab if you have to. Happens all the time. Get the hell out, Jonathan.”

“My agent would kill me.”

“Your agent will fix it. You want to know why you can’t write the end of your fucking book? It’s not because the TV people keep moving the goal posts. It’s because you’re in love with writing the book. You’re addicted to writing the book. You’re in love with the idea of writing the book, of being a novelist. But until you do it, you haven’t done it, you see what I mean?”

I must have touched a nerve. His eyes were round and he was sitting up straight like he’d been shocked with an electrical cord. Then his defenses kicked in. “Why does every fight about our relationship end up about me and my writing?”

I may have shouted. “You just said it yourself! Your self-esteem is shot because of this fucking TV series, you’re not yourself, and I’m trying to have a relationship with the real Jonathan, not this zombified shell. You started this by saying you were sorry you’re not all here!”

“Ah. Right. Yeah.” He put his hands over his face and scrubbed, then let them drop. “So you think I should quit.”


“Will you run off to Mexico, or to Providence, with me, if I do?”

That was where I lost it and started to cry. He hugged me and I let him even though the reason I was crying was the sudden feeling of helplessness that I was never going to break free.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it in a pressure-y way.”

“Just like you didn’t pressure me into moving in with you.”

“I didn’t!” He let go of me, angry now.

“I know you didn’t.” That was the truth. He really did NOT pressure me into moving in with him. I could have said no, right? All he’d done is clearly and honestly expressed his desires. Maybe clarity and honesty had seemed like the best thing ever at the time. Clarity and honesty were easy to crave.

Right now being clear and honest about what I wanted was the most painful thing. But the right thing. So I said, “I want to go home. I want to go back to Boston and lick my wounds and figure out what to do with my life.”

“Without me.”

“I can’t figure it out if I’m with you,” I said. “Maybe I’m explaining it badly. But it’s like when I’m in the same room with you I can’t even think clearly. Like I’m out of focus and not really there. The ‘us’ takes over my brain. Even when you’re not in the room. It’s like… I’m not me anymore. I’m half of Daron and Jonathan.” I realized that was what Matthew was saying, too, that the couplehood takes over the individuals. I’d told him the idea terrified me. What wasn’t clear until this moment, though, was that it had already happened to me. “And I think it’s happened to you, too. We’re both wrapped up in being a twosome here. You said it. Lack of autonomy. But neither of us can reach our artistic goals while we’re wrapped up in that.”

He appeared to be giving serious thought to my idea. “But there are plenty of accomplished artistic couples…”

“I’m not saying it’s impossible for some people. But it’s impossible for us.”

“You sound really sure about this.”

“I am really sure about it.”

“Which means if you’re wrong, well, we still have to treat it like you’re right, since anything you think about the relationship is the reality of the relationship.”

“Wow, I understood what you said there.” I cracked a smile. I couldn’t help it. “But seriously, do you see what I mean?”

“I do, but I still have to do the Ivy League argument thing.”

“Which is?”

“Play devil’s advocate. I mean, I have to ask: is art more important than love? Than people?”

I know he didn’t mean to offend me. But on some very deep level I was completely offended by the question. I edged away from him and my voice came out very grave. “What were you put on Earth to do, Jonathan.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask it another way. Were you put on Earth to write? Or to love me?”

“Real life doesn’t happen in absolutes, Daron.”

“It does. This is the world of the mind. Of art. Of ideas. So I get to define what’s absolute and what isn’t.” I don’t know why I was angry. I guess I didn’t like my unshakable convictions being questioned. This was an absolute for me. “I was put on Earth to make music. I believe that. I believe that above and beyond and underneath everything else I believe. If I stop believing that, I stop believing I have a reason to live.”

“You really don’t seem like the type to play the suicide card, Daron.”

“You better believe I’m not. Because I have a reason to exist. I’m not here to father children or heal the sick. My purpose in life is make music. And I don’t mean to sound ruthless about it, because that’s not my intent, but if a relationship is stopping me from doing it…”

“But is our relationship stopping you? Do you have to be single to be a creator? Most creative people aren’t.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s me, and I can’t have someone else in my brain. Or maybe it’s this relationship in particular that ties me up. I don’t know. But you have to hear me when I say I need to get away to clear my head.”

He heard the criticism in “hear me.” He knew I was calling him out about not listening to me the other night. Jonathan was a good guy, really. He really was. So he did his best to listen. “Okay. I… You’re saying you need to get away.”

“I’m saying I think we both need to get away from each other. Don’t get me wrong, Jonathan. You were right about being good for me in a lot of ways. I still like you. I still have a lot of affection for you.” And I was still attracted to him, though I didn’t bring it up. If anything, all the honesty and intimacy of this conversation was making him even more attractive than usual. This wasn’t a good time to express my desire, though. “I want the best for you, and I think you want the best for me, too. But speaking as your artistic confidant, this Hollywood gig is killing you. Get yourself into a fancy writers colony if you need to, but go do it, don’t just talk about wanting to. And let me go back to Boston and figure out my shit.”

“You don’t even know if Ziggy’s alive or dead,” he said, not in a cruel way, but yeah, I know.

“Moondog Three is probably done for good,” I said softly, like I didn’t want to admit it too loud or it would become true for sure. “I talked to Feinbaum this morning. We’re on the verge of escalating to lawsuits all around or letting it all drop and walking away.”

His face fell. “Oh, Daron, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. We … did a lot better than six out of ten bands.” I felt guilty that I sounded more heartbroken about the band than I did about him, but when you think about it, which relationship was more important to me? I’d been with the band a lot longer and had been through a lot more with them. Maybe it was appropriate I sounded more broken up about it.

“Okay. But think about this. I’m not trying to talk you into anything. Just consider. If Moondog Three is really kaput, wouldn’t it make more sense to be in Los Angeles? You’ve worked with dozens of bands here. You have a ton of contacts. Whatever you do next, strategy-wise…”


“Looking at it from an industry standpoint, seriously, Daron, even if you move out of here, go back to Remo’s, whatever… What I’m saying is don’t be biased against Los Angeles just because of you and me.”

“It’s a little hard to separate, but I’ll try.”

“Chernwick, Keith, the guys at Sound City, the list goes on. You have the contacts here. If you go back to Boston, do you fall off the map? Do you fall off the radar and disappear? That’s what I’d be worried about.”

“Yeah.” He did have a point. “But you’re not trying to talk me into staying?”

He looked down at his hands. His eyelashes always looked long and blond when he did that. “I… I wish I could talk you into staying until January first. The lease is up then, you know? I think you’re right. I do need to get out. And the thing is… my part of the development should wrap by then. Hell, it should have wrapped already. I… I’ll give notice. I’ll tell them they have me until then, and then I’m going back to journalism.”

“You mean you’ll go back to journalism or that’s what you’ll tell them?”

“That’s what I’ll tell them. Who knows if I can get back in the door at SPIN or if I have to start over.” He sighed. “That’s my wish, though. Stay with me, only a few more weeks, keep me sane, keep me going. I… I’m sorry it’s been so hard. Maybe, though, maybe knowing what we know now, we could at least have a good last month together?”

God, he sounded so hopeful, so fragile, so optimistic, so vulnerable. That’s how you sound when you lay your heart out there for someone else to see. A wish is like a soap bubble, beautiful, perfect, full of colorful swirls that could be anything–and ripe to be popped.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t say outright no. So I said this: “All right. But there’s no way I’m going to meet your parents for Christmas.”

My acquiescence took his breath away. His mouth was open but he couldn’t breathe in or out, and tears glittered in the corners of his eyes. He was paralyzed with shock. The argument was over and he was stunned that he had won.

I took one of his nerveless hands in mine. My anger and angst had drained away and left me with the lust that had been burning since we’d started slinging the truth at each other. “So.”

“So,” he managed to echo.

“Is it okay for me to…” Oh shit. Panic welled up suddenly. I thought I’d figured this shit out.

“Is it okay for you to what?” He asked, gentle and concerned.

“To ask…” That was as much as I could get out. I could not say the words “for make up sex.”

“To ask… for what you want?” He prompted.

I nodded, but I couldn’t do what he did and make a wish. I couldn’t put myself out there to potentially be shot down so plainly. Not again.

His voice was an urgent whisper. “Daron. Please. Ask for what you want. Please.

I fell back to one of my coping mechanisms. Ask for something close, not everything you hope for, just a little piece. That way you don’t jinx it. Ask for something that might lead to what you hope for. I did that with Colin, I remembered, and it worked out okay. Perfectly, in fact.

“Can I kiss you?” I finally said.

That was it. I broke his heart with those words.

The look on his face said the knife went deep. He said “Yes, of course,” and he meant it, truly meant it, but I think in that moment he saw how it all might have been different, and how now it was too late to heal the wound that had left me afraid to even speak the words to ask for love from my lover.

They call it make-up sex, but it wasn’t enough to make up for everything.

(BONUS SCENE #6: This one was cathartic to write. As has become traditional here at DGC, anyone who makes a monetary contribution will receive an email with this special bonus scene. Click the Paypal button here to contribute, or Paypal any amount directly to “daron.moondog@gmail.com” ! Or join the Patreon by pledging $1 a week and get instant access to all of the bonus content! That’s over a dozen bonus scenes and a few short stories!

Suggested contributions:

Also remember ALL donations made on the site count toward triggering an extra story post! Whenever the tip jar hits a total of $100 there’ll be an additional chapter that week! [Then we go back to zero and start again.] Thank you for your support! -ctan)


  • Jude says:

    Ow. But at least you’ve lanced the boil.

  • Kirk says:

    WOW! Rough.

  • Joe says:

    I’m going to have to re-read this post later. I didn’t follow everything either of them were saying. Or not saying.

    • daron says:

      The problem with these epic relationship talks is that everything you say brings up four other things you need to say and that the other person needs to say in response, but then each of those things brings up four more things… you never come close to covering all the ground that gets dug up. Exhausting and endless. But when you find a way through to the other side you don’t go back. And by you I mean me, of course…

      • Joe says:

        Of course. 🙂

        Yeah, I know what you mean about these epic talks. And no matter how much is brought up, the conversations are still not about what the other one thinks it’s about.

        • daron says:

          I know, right? It’s like, wait, that’s what you’re thinking? Hang on, is that what I said? Or what I meant? What did I mean, anyway? How can the person who astonishes you by reading your mind sometimes suddenly seem like they’re not even speaking the same language as you?

  • Joe says:

    And can I put in a vote now for the make-up sex session to be one of the pay-per-view bonus chapters.

  • Connie says:

    You’re breaking my heart, Daron.—
    But mine is just a euphemism and yours is really broken, huh sweetie? {{hugs}}

  • LenaLena says:

    This time the title song is perfect. One of my favorite Echo songs. “Self doubt and selfism are the cheapest things I ever bought”.

    Unlike Joe I do NOT want to read a bonus chapter of the ‘make up sex’. I hate make up sex when it’s not really making up and everything is fucking fragile.

    Not sure everything got said that needed to be said, but it’ll do for now.

    • daron says:

      FWIW I wouldn’t describe what happened next with the word fragile. It was more like “fuck hard, cry hard.” You know, once I felt like I didn’t have to hold back anymore.

      I didn’t come close to saying everything I thought of but I at least said the big things needed to: I want to leave, I feel like I’m doing all the work in this relationship, I’m still in love with Ziggy. Honestly wasn’t sure it was possible to get them all into the same conversation but I’m glad I did.

  • Averin says:

    Make-up sex with Ziggy, pretty please? I know, broken record, bite me.

    • daron says:

      You should see what my dreams are like.

      • sanders says:

        Please? I’ve got a donation lined up as soon as I get a stupid gift card straightened out, and the recipe for some death-by-chocolate cupcakes, and bribery by iTunes can be arranged. We need some ZIggy to make up for this mess with Jonathan, and I have to second the no on the make up sex with J as a bonus.

        • Linda says:

          I agree….Ziggy, please. NOT Jonathan! I was proud of Daron at the beginning of this post. He was doing so well with “the talk” and then make-up sex with J. Really??! Ugh! I feel like it was two steps forward then one step back. Scratch that…more like one step forward and TWO steps back! Daron, I wish you had left it with you returning to Boston. The way things are going, I have a feeling you will be picking out a nice gift for Jonathan’s parents for the Visit you said you won’t be making. Jonathan will just manipulate you again. Solo frustrating! And I am thinking we won’t be seeing or hearing from Ziggy for another 6 months! How I miss Daron and Ziggy together!!!

          • daron says:

            If he wants to stay friends he won’t drag me to meet his parents. That I’m sure of. We’ll see if he wants to stay friends more than he wants to drag out the relationship…

          • sanders says:

            Linda, I absolutely second everything you said, especially the part where it feels like we won’t hear from or about Ziggy until sometime in the spring. Even just a check in from him with some idea of what’s going on would make me feel better. I’m so over the Jonathan/Daron show.

            • daron says:

              Unfortunately the person who’s most likely to know Ziggy’s whereabouts is Digger, who I’m going to pretend doesn’t exist for a while. That’s how much I want to avoid him–even the prospect of finding out what’s up with Ziggy won’t make me call him.

      • Averin says:

        A peak at your dreams would be good…starring Z or Colin or the cater or was that a air steward?

        Seriously, I thought I was the only one who got guilted or guilted someone else into clinging on. No matter which way, it’s a cold, gray place.

        • daron says:

          You just reminded me of that flight attendant I had sex with back in 1986, on my first trip to Los Angeles. Never got his full name or number, though. I don’t even remember where he lived. But there’s something to be said for sex that’s just sex. That caterer, he’s in LA, too, at the hotel where Crystal works… hm.

          I should not be thinking about guys I’ve tricked with right now though.

  • Nona says:

    You did good, the both of you did. I think you’ll be able to be friends once this is all behind you.

    There’s a sort of co-dependency between the two of you. It’s not all bad, but J. is using the relationship to smooth over the unpleasant parts of his professional life. In this case, you are the stronger one and the more adult one. I think that’s because you are so clear about what your life is about. J’s not that sure of himself.

    Also, I’m not sure I’d call it make up sex. Y’all aren’t making up/getting back together. You’re two friends who used to be in a relationship having sex. Don’t fall into old patterns in the coming weeks.

  • secret says:

    Youch! Huggs to you Daron…and maybe to Jonathan too. So glad you finally were able to have this long over due talk with J. I feel going home to Boston is your best option right now.

  • I am horrible and wish you’d left, like, right that moment. And not come back.

  • sanders says:

    I was so excited for today and hoping you’d finally leave and go back to Boston and stop letting Jonathan jerk you around. His whole view of relationships is skewed, at least when it comes to giving up autonomy. That’s not a relationship, that’s soul-killing co-dependence that erases what’s important about a person, at least the way he’s doing it. And you just agreed to stay with that viewpoint for another month.

    His bringing up that you don’t know whether Ziggy’s okay or not was just low and nasty, stated as fact or not. You need to leave him, and leave the relationship, for your own reasons, not just because you’re in love with Ziggy, but because Jonathan’s proving himself wrong for you when you have to be up close for longer than a week at a time.

    • daron says:

      I don’t think it was low: one of us was going to bring up Ziggy and it was just a question of who got to it first. Me being the one would have probably been a low nasty blow no matter how I did it so I’m glad he did. And I can’t let being in love with Ziggy mean I have to live in a cave like a hermit the rest of my life, but this isn’t a viable alternative.

    • Linda says:

      I agree with you Sanders, we always seem to be on the same wavelength!

  • Cris says:

    Honestly, I think that staying another month is a TERRIBLE idea, but I can see why you said yes. Jonathan’s a good guy and I know you care about him enough to support him in this, but him asking you to stay after you explicitly said you needed to get out was INCREDIBLY unfair and manipulative, whether it was meant that way or not. Not to mention that you calling it make-up sex doesn’t make me feel any better about the situation. Just try to make sure that you don’t get sucked back up into the whole relationship thing like nothing ever happened. Because that’s kind of where I see this going as of right now.

    • daron says:

      I forgot to mention there will be a Saturday post this week, by the way. So everyone can find out faster whether I really got sucked back in or not…

  • ed69 says:

    Daron time to go now Go back to Boston.Take time to lick your wounds.See how Moondog 3 plays out with the record co. And Ziggy??????

  • Renee says:

    I thought I was the only one thinking staying until January was a terrible idea. I mean really, what could go wrong, with Daron mentally packing his bags with the mindset that he’s now single and Jonathan hoping he can force this relationship to work if only he put a little more effort into it… This has disaster written all over it.

    • ctan says:

      This has disaster written all over it.

      I often feel I should end every post with cliffhanger music. “Dun-dun-DUN!”

      • Lance Boone says:

        Great chapter! I do feel that Jonathan is being very selfish though.

        • daron says:

          He is, but if there’s one lesson I gotta take out of this it’s that you have to ask for what you want. Just because I sit around trying to read his mind about what he wants doesn’t mean anyone else in the world is going to sit around trying to read MY mind. Your chance of getting what you want when you ask is a hell of a lot higher than when you keep your mouth shut. Sounds like a no brainer but it’s taken me so long to learn

          • sanders says:

            The next lesson is: Just because someone asks for something, even if you care deeply about them, you really do not have to give it to them. Especially when it acts against your own well-being.

  • Kunama says:

    “so it’s up to me figure out”
    up to me TO figure

    “All he’d done is”
    is -> was

  • s says:

    You’re a good guy, D. Too good. You should have left…

    • Bill Heath says:

      He did. During the conversation Daron left Jonathan. It’s just that the plane doesn’t take off for another month.

      Daron is already gone.

      • s says:

        Right, but wouldn’t we all feel better if he just walked right out the door? I know I would have!

        This is actually one of the things that impressed me so much with this story. I don’t like Jonathan (and have not made that a secret), I hated this relationship, but the way it’s handled is so realistic. I’m not so sure the majority of people would have stayed at this point, but then again, most aren’t worried about keeping the friendship. Most people just let it go until it gets so bad the people involved actually start to dislike each other so much they wonder if they ever liked each other in the first place. So kudos to Daron for not letting that happen. But for us, it’s like watching someone you really care about in a relationship that is just bad and you want to pluck him right out of it, but you can’t, because it’s not your call to make.

      • daron says:

        If I was ever really even there in the first place. *still a little guilt-ridden over that*

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