[ he knows that it is no choice, because if it were, he wouldn’t be in this mess, this heartache, this purgatory in the first place. If he could have chosen to be normal, he would have. A love that he could bring home for Christmas, a marriage in a church, a family of his own. It would have been so much easier than the lying and the fear, the ticking of the clock in his ear. He's young enough that his mother is the only one questioning why he hasn’t settled down, but Hawk has a decade on him. The ticking is louder. It's a pounding on the door, and again, he’s chosen to toss Tim out and barricade it rather than risk anyone seeing him in there with him.
He did choose to smile back at the handsome stranger on election night. He chose to give him his number in the park, he chose to open his door, let him touch him, awaken the enormity of the desire that Tim thought he had under control. He chose, he chose, he chose. Whether their souls had been woven together by God or by him, he’d wanted it, and he wants it still. ]
It hasn’t been simple, no. but I don’t regret that I tried. This was our best shot.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-08-27 03:42 pm (UTC)He did choose to smile back at the handsome stranger on election night. He chose to give him his number in the park, he chose to open his door, let him touch him, awaken the enormity of the desire that Tim thought he had under control. He chose, he chose, he chose. Whether their souls had been woven together by God or by him, he’d wanted it, and he wants it still. ]
It hasn’t been simple, no. but I don’t regret that I tried. This was our best shot.