Reunited (2)

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Hello,

As you're probably aware, my name is Brian Michael Quinn. I am currently 41 years old, but much like my love's story, this takes place when I was 36. I understand that you've heard his side of things, and I may have come across as a jerk sometimes, but hear me out, alright?

Let me take you back to where it all started, high school. I met Sal, along with Joe and Murray, when I was 14 years old, in religious class to be exact. We got on like a house on fire almost instantly. After around six months of friendship, I started to notice a difference in Sal's behaviour. He was becoming shyer around me, and not to mention how is eyes used to follow me around the room. It was starting to get to me, and I just had to speak to someone about it. So, I decided to turn to Murr, who must have known something about his erratic behaviour, but he wouldn't tell me, not at all. I decided that it would be best for me to carry on as normal, and that I did. The four years of high school flew by, and the four of us had managed to remain good friends. Admittedly, as college came about, we drifted apart. I had forgotten all about Sal's behaviour, and he seemed to have stopped. Maybe Murray had told him what I said? Who knows?

Anyway, after we had all graduated, and were all back to our homes in Staten Island, I had received a message from Murr, asking if we wanted to get the gang back together, as he had bumped into Sal on the ferry. Of course, I said yes, as I had missed those idiots massively. That night, we had a small party around the Murray residence. I'm not sure whether Sal has told you this story, but I'm going to tell you anyway. He probably doesn't even remember because he was so drunk that night.

Things were going fine, three of us getting off our faces, whilst Joe remained sober, for understandable reasons. He had left pretty early that night, something about work the next day. That left Sal, Murray and I to run riot. The drinks kept on coming, warping our minds, overwhelming our senses, and losing all control over what we did. By around one in the morning, Murr had passed out on the floor in the lounge. There was no way that we could wake him up until morning. Sal and I were bent over him, trying our best, but it was no use, he was dead to the world. I looked up, my eyes being met with Sal's emerald orbs, which were glistening in the moonlight. He smiled at me, that same smile he used to pull at high school. What happened next is still a blur in my mind, I don't know whose idea it was, but we ended up kissing. His hands were curled around my neck, as he pulled me down. He lay there on the ground, as I held myself above him, our lips melding together perfectly. One thing kind of led to another, and we ended up sleeping together...in Murr's bed. Hey, don't judge us...he wasn't using it so, you know, we may as well have made use of it.

To this day, I still believe that Sal was so wrecked that night that he has no clue what happened. To be honest, I don't remember much myself, but I can remember his lips on mine, and the racing to the bedroom. Fast forward ten years, and we'll reach the point where Sal met Frances. She did him good, kept his mind off of things and treated him like the prince that he is. I guess you could say that at this point in my life, is when I realised I liked Sal. Seeing him happy with her, it made me jealous. I didn't hate Frances for it, hell, it's impossible to hate that girl. She's so sweet and kind. But I knew that I wanted to be the cause of his smile, the cause of his laughter. I didn't handle my newly found crush well, I started to drink more, often having one night stands, just to get him out of my mind. Around 3 years or so later, I met Hannah. Well, I slept with her after meeting her at a bar, and she kind of never left. Although the show hadn't aired yet, I had told her that I was filming it. Instantly, she became attached to me, always asking for money and whatnot. I knew that she wasn't any good for me, but what else could I do? The man I loved was already taken, and it crushed my soul.

After a year of using Hannah just to spite my feelings for Sal, I was growing tired. Seeing him so happy with someone else, it drained me. I wanted that with him, but I couldn't have him. No, instead I was stuck with a gold-digging whore like Hannah. It wasn't fair. I was on the verge of giving up completely, and by that I really do mean completely. I wanted to drink myself into oblivion, just to take this endless heartbreak away. It got so bad, that I had brainwashed myself into thinking that if I couldn't have Sal, then there was no point in being alive anymore. And so, one night, I had downed so much poison, also known as alcohol, that I passed out. Constantly in and out of consciousness. Thankfully, Murray had come round my house to borrow something, and that's how he found me. Immediately, he rang Joe, who soon arrived. Murray had spent the whole time talking to me, keeping me somewhat alert. I can remember Joe cradling my head, as Murr rang the emergency services, tears upon both of their faces.

"No, Brian...I can't lose you to alcohol too." Joe cried. My eyes were heavy, desperate to slam shut. I couldn't move, barely able to mumble a few words, as my eyes shifted around the room. I looked between the two of them, muttering words to make a sentence they needed to hear.

"Don't...t-tell...S-Sal." I stuttered, before I blacked out. My head falling back and my eyes slamming shut, I don't remember anything else. I don't remember the ride to the hospital, or the fact that Joe and Murr stayed with me all night. They had kept to my request, and still to this day, Sal is unaware that I almost left this world. Sometimes I feel that he should know, but I don't want him to feel that it was his fault, because it sure as hell wasn't. Of course, Hannah wasn't there for me, she never fucking was.

I guess this leads on to that fateful night at Sal's. But at least now you know the reason why I didn't drink that night, right?