Catharsis
Zac
I stand there, staring in disbelief. Taylor told me he loved me before, back in the hotel, but then it seemed like a throw-away phrase, a sad attempt at stopping me from leaving. But this time… It’s impossible to ignore the raw emotion behind his words. And I can see the logic behind them; when the band blew up, we all clung to each other for comfort and sanity, Taylor and I most of all. That’s why I never pushed him away, even though I should have known better from the start.
“Why do you think I let you start all this?” My voice sounds tired and weak, exactly how I feel. All the rage, the fiery energy that fueled me just seconds ago, drained out of me with every word my brother said, leaving me empty. “I loved you, too.”
“Let me?” Taylor says, his voice full of confusion. “Why you would let me treat you like that? Even if you loved me… why didn’t you try to stop me sooner?”
“Because,” I sigh, looking away. “I didn’t want to lose what little I had. Yeah, it was fucked up, but… at least it was better than nothing.” And it’s true. As much as I eventually loathed him for torturing me, I couldn’t stand the thought of giving up those brief moments where I could pretend he really cared, and that I wasn’t just another toy for him to play with.
“I think a part of me, deep down, was trying to do the right thing and just stop, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted you to love me and I wanted to love you, but… I treated you just like I treated everyone else. Or worse.”
“I got used to it,” I say, shrugging and heading back to the couch. “It got to the point where I knew the signs, when you were going to do something. And I learned how to, like… turn everything off and just enjoy it. Until you went away again; then I’d deal with it on my own.” I remember so many nights, in hotel rooms or on the bus, head burrowed into the pillow to muffle the sound of my crying, of the screams I’d let out in anger, frustration, despair. I’d always make sure never to let anyone know what it did to me, especially Taylor.
I watch Tay as he slowly makes his way over, sitting next to me; he doesn’t say a word, though, and for that I’m grateful. There’s a lot that needs to be said, and now that I’m too exhausted to shout, I think I can finally vent without wanting to lash out.
“I think I didn’t want you to see what you were doing to me,” I say, looking away again. “I think part of me was afraid if you saw how much I cared, you really would stop… and I didn’t want that. I wanted you… just you, all of you. Not just the physical… I wanted the parts of yourself you didn’t let anyone see.” I close my eyes and let out a deep sigh; I’ve never really talked out loud about this, not even to myself, and it feels strange to put it into words. My chest feels tight, and my eyes are stinging again.
“I wanted that too,” Taylor says softly. “I mean, I wanted someone who could love me just for me. The real me. Someone who saw who I really was and didn’t hate me for it. So much for that, huh?” He laughs weakly, and my heart aches.
“Taylor,” I say quietly, reaching over to touch his knee. “I wanted the real you, but I didn’t think he existed anymore. All I ever saw was this… diva playboy act. I just wanted Tay back. Not Taylor Hanson. Just Tay.”
“I think I forgot how to be him a long time ago. And then I forgot how to be… anything.”
“It’s not too late. I know he’s in there somewhere. You wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t.” I turn to face my brother, and all the anger, all the years of resentment suddenly seem not so important. Sure, I was technically the victim, and what Taylor did was horrible. But maybe not unforgivable.
“Listen… that night, at the hotel. I…” I take a shaky breath, looking at Tay’s eyes, and make a decision. I need to let go of the hate, the poison between us. And the first step of that is admitting that I’m not the innocent victim I’ve been pretending to be.
“I’m sorry.”
Taylor
“No,” I say as firmly as I possibly can, which isn’t very firm at all. “What you did to me, three years of that… that’s nothing compared to what I put you through for half your life. If you think you need to apologize, I accept. But I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry that I was too busy hiding from myself and trying to protect myself that I didn’t realize how badly I was hurting you. I’m so, so sorry, Zac.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. “What I did to you… I wanted to hurt you. I’m glad I didn’t, but at the time… I wanted to break you down, in every way.”
“And I’m not saying that you didn’t, but maybe… maybe in a way I needed to be broken,” I reply, ignoring how incredulous Zac looks. What I’m saying barely even makes sense to me, but maybe, just maybe I’m onto something. “I don’t know how else I would have realized what I’d done to you. Going through something like that, even just a little bit… I finally understood how awful I had been, and that’s what has destroyed me. Not what you did to me, but the realization of what I had done to you and how horrible I was.”
“So… what do we do now?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. This should feel like a huge weight off my chest, but somehow it doesn’t. What’s missing? What hasn’t been said or done? “I forgive you, because I was never upset with you, only with myself. And I hope, somehow, someday… you can forgive me. But I understand if you can’t. And if you can’t, then… then I really don’t know what happens next.”
Zac takes a deep breath and stares down at his lap. “I think,” he says slowly, as if he’s actually forming the thoughts and words simultaneously. “I think I can forgive you. At least, I can start to. I think I understand now, why you did it. And honestly… hating you is really fucking hard,” he finishes, looking up and laughing nervously.
“Well, we can’t both hate me, right?”
I was hoping for a laugh or something in reply to that, but all I get is a sad pout. There’s an unfamiliar weight on my knee, and I actually have to glance down to realize that it’s Zac’s hand. I raise my eyes back to his face and the sadness on it makes me feel even worse. Was what I said really that bad? It might have been a joke, but there was truth behind it.
“You’re not a bad person, Tay,” Zac says, taking my hand. “You’ve just made some bad choices. Like who to fall in love with,” he adds with an uneasy chuckle.
I glance down at our hands and let out a hoarse laugh. “It’s too late to fix that, I think. But maybe… there are other things I can make up for? Somehow?”
Zac nods, but doesn’t say anything; he stares at me for a minute with an almost curious focus, like he’s seeing me for the first time. His stare is so intense that it’s uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hold quite as much judgment as I expected. There’s something different there now; not pity, but close.
“You grew your hair out again. It looks nice.”
I shrug. I hadn’t made any sort of conscious decision to grow my hair out; it was just another thing I let go. It’s a big deal for Zac to compliment me, though, so I force a smile and say, “Thanks.”
“So… what have you been up to?” He asks.
I just stare at him. What does he think I’ve been up to?
“Sorry,” he says, looking down and pouting. “Feels weird, you being here.” He looks up at me with a hint of a smile. “I thought about you.”
“I know,” I reply. Softly, I add, “I didn’t think about much of anything but you.”
“Same here,” Zac admits with a sigh. “I tried not to; I tried to forget all about you, honestly. Should’ve known that wasn’t going to happen…” He offers me another smile, one that almost reminds me of the old Zac.
“I thought you had a life here,” I say almost teasingly. “If either of us should have been able to move on, it should have been you.”
“Not for lack of trying,” he says with a shrug. “I get by… I go to school, I paint;
actually had a regular job for a while. Even went on a few dates.”
“What, couldn’t find anybody who was up to your standards?” I know I’m probably pushing my luck by attempting to joke around with him, but I think one more moment of seriousness might kill me. I’ve bared my soul enough for right now.
“What can I say?” Zac replies, smirking sheepishly. “You’re a tough act to follow. Kinda set the bar pretty high…” He looks me up and down briefly, then glances away, blushing slightly.
I can feel myself blushing too, but I know beneath his joke, there’s a little bit of truth. He could certainly do better than me, but what happened in that hotel room three years ago changed us both. Afterward, I had no desire to be with Natalie or anyone else. It was partially because I didn’t trust myself not to destroy anyone I touched, but it was also because I finally realized the depth of my feelings for Zac. No one else would ever be him, so why bother?
“I tried, really. Girls and guys. But none of them felt right.” He stares at his lap, scratching at a paint spot on his jeans. “No one’s ever felt right, except… well, you know.” He glances up, smirking, but there’s a hint of fear in his eyes.
“I know,” I reply softly. “I haven’t even tried. There was no point, when I finally realized what I really wanted… and then lost it just as quickly.”
Zac
I nod, taking in Taylor’s words. It’s so strange, him being here, telling me he loves me… but what’s even weirder is that I believe it. And not just believe it, but accept it. I think I can understand now, why he did what he did; it doesn’t make it right, but he seems to finally realize that. It feels good to let go of the hate, too, like a huge weight off my shoulders. Looking at him now, I don’t feel any bitterness or resentment. I don’t see a monster, a shallow diva, a twisted, selfish narcissist. All I see is a man, one I’ve always loved, always wanted.
And I still want him.
It’s been there all afternoon, at the very back of my mind; the voice of rage drowned it out before, but now there’s nothing stopping it from rising to the forefront. I can’t stop looking at him, taking in every little detail and comparing it to my memories. If anything, the frailness has only added to his beauty, giving him even more of the androgynous quality I’ve always found strangely attractive.
He looks down, blushing, and I feel the same pull that’s always drawn me to him. He bites his lip and I wonder what it tastes like. He looks up at me through his lashes, and I picture his eyes, dark with the same desire I feel. I haven’t had to control myself like this in a long time, and I’m afraid my will isn’t strong enough.
“I don’t just mean sexually,” he says, his face turning crimson. “It goes so much deeper than that, deeper than anything else I’ve ever felt. It’s so fucked up to realize just how many people I’ve hurt, and I’m not saying I don’t regret hurting all the others, but hurting you… that’s the worst. That’s what I can’t forgive myself for.”
“Taylor,” I say, taking his hands in mine. I try to ignore the heat they give, and the heat they cause in me. “What you did was fucked up, yeah… but there’s nothing you can do to go back and change it. All you can change is yourself. If you don’t like who you were, then don’t be that guy anymore.” It sounds like lame advice, but I need to help him get over this. It’s been too long, both of us being eaten up by our past. It’s time to move on, to move forward; the more I think about it, the more I want us to do that together, whatever the context.
“I do want to change,” Taylor says, his bangs falling in his face as he stares down at our hands. “I think that’s why I came here in the first place. Not to Boston, but to you. I want to change, Zac. So what do I do now?”
I stare at him, knowing what answer I want to give. But I’m scared. It’s been so long, and the last time Tay and I… The last thing I want to do now is hurt him. But I don’t want to get hurt, either. A war is being waged inside me, the noise of battle making it hard to think. I stare at Taylor, at his big blue eyes and pouting lips, at his beautiful face, looking far more innocent than he has any right to look. I take a deep breath, gripping Tay’s hands and feeling their warmth. I’ve felt so cold for so long, but I didn’t realize until now how much I missed this feeling. I stare at Taylor… and I kiss him.