Made To Be Broken

What The Heart Wants

“Praying won't do it, hating won't do it
Drinking won't do it
Fighting won't knock you out of my head

But if you know
How do you get up from an all time low?
I'm in pieces, it seems like peace is
The only thing I never know
How do you get up from an all time low?
I can't even find a place to start
How do I choose between my head and heart?.”

- All Time Low,THE WANTED

__________________________________

People like you are sick.

The words twisted round and round, spinning faster and faster like a whirlwind inside Noble's head. Had he harbored some flicker of hope that Rebecca would somehow understand his struggles, some tiny spark that she might be sympathetic and compassionate? If that hope had been alive somewhere inside him – it was fading fast.

It was no secret that she disagreed with homosexuality, but in the last two years they'd been together – this was the first time he'd heard her speak of it with such animosity and blatant disgust. He'd been watching when Jonah had touched her arm, and how she'd pulled away from him so quick, as if his very touch was vile. Diseased.

Noble's stomach cramped painfully. He hugged it tight and crossed in front of the concrete steps leading up to the front of the church, having circled around the end of the structure. Rebecca was looking for him but he didn't want to see her right now. She would show him love and concern, as if he meant everything to her and nothing could tear them apart. But it was all an illusion. He was an illusion. She only loved the man she thought he was.

When he came to his car, he leaned against the hood and hugged his stomach tight, curling over a bit. Sobs piled in his throat and his eyes burned. Scenes from his fantasy flipped through his head, faster every second, until they all became one and he was beneath Jonah again, the man's warm breath on his neck, his need for Noble filling him up, his words - I love you – falling soft and warm on Noble's fevered skin.

A sudden, unexpected and startling sense of comfort and safety rushed through Noble as the fantasy played out all over again in his mind.

“You can trust me, Noble – Let go...fall...I promise – I'll catch you.”

Noble's knees slowly buckled and he sank down to the concrete curb in front of the car. Tears began to break loose and run down his face as he hugged himself more fiercely. Why did Jonah's words from the fantasy hurt so much? Why should it matter if it was all his head? None of it real? He was engaged to Rebecca. He loved Rebecca.

So why did you run from her? Why don't you want to see her now?

He struggled for an answer, but nothing came.

Why does the fantasy about Jonah make you feel safe...at peace?

“I don't know.” Noble choked out and curled over more, crying softly, his breath breaking. Please, God...

He straightened up slowly and leaned against the car bumper, letting his head fall back on the end of the hood. The cross on the top of the church building was a hazy blur as he stared at it with empty eyes.

“My god, my god.” He whispered, warm tears sliding down his temples, his voice hollow...lost. “Why have you forsaken me?”

........................

“Jonah.”

His dad waved to him from across the dining hall, motioning him to join them. Jonah stood in the doorway, just wanting to get out of there. This entire day so far felt like a mistake, as if it needed to be rewound and started over. But if that were possible – what would he do different? Shrug off Noble's hand when he gripped him in the fit of an anxiety attack? Ignore him when rushed back to the bathroom to vomit from the pressure of his stress? Just close his eyes and his mind to what was happening to Noble, tell himself it was none of his business – and just look the other way?