InsaneJournal

If I Could Turn Back Time
I let Mikey go home to Ben that night and went back to the loft to try not to think about Justin, only after enjoying myself a little more, in the solitude I guess I deserved. I should have known he'd be back, with comics, not sweaty anymore, smelling like shampoo and moose.

We sat on the carpet sipping beer, reading in relative silence. This was definitely one of those things I didn't want to change. I knew the probability of it changing in the years to come wasn't high. When we got old enough that getting down on the floor—or, rather, getting back up—was too taxing, we'd sit at a table or something and do the same. I know he says I'll still be beautiful and young then, even when he can't do it anymore. That's one of his little lies, but it's one I'd like to fall for.

No one will always be young, or always be beautiful. Youth and beauty have been prized since ancient times in every culture because of how fleeting they are. So I guess wanting to be both above everything else is a form of greed. Good, that already describes me pretty well, doesn't it?

Anyway, about that whole probability of things changing, even if we keep doing this, it won't be exactly the same, when we can't get down on the floor. And I might still be able to seduce Michael then. Then again, I may not be able to. Maybe he's as shallow as the rest of us, or maybe he'll have finally moved on after another twenty fucking years. Maybe he'll be mourning Ben and never find someone else.

"If you could travel through time and change any event in your life, what would it be?" he asked, stretching a little, shifting on his side. I glanced over at the comic he was reading. Wasn't that a doozy of a question.

He didn't expect me to answer right away. I had a couple seconds to think about an answer. Would I go all "Back to the Future" and stop my parents from meeting and having me, and maybe even blow up the world in a paradox that took us all down together? Or, maybe I'd stop Chris from going after Justin after the prom, or maybe I'd stop myself from going to the prom at all. I mean, if I'd never have had to take him back in . . . a lot of stuff wouldn't have happened.

Well, I could do one better than that, actually. "I never would have fucked Justin in the first place." I turned toward him a little too. "What would you change?"

"I'm not sure I'd change anything," he finally answered, looking away a little. And I knew, I knew then what he would have done. The way he was avoiding eye-contact. He would have done something to keep Deb out of his bedroom that day we "never did anything", according to him. But of course it meant something. That fact was written across his face every time he looked at me.

"Not anything? Really?" I looked at him hard.

"I mean, I have some regrets, but who knows what changing things might affect down the road, you know? It's better just to leave things the way they are. C'est la vie." He smiled softly, looking at me again.

"Yeah, but sometimes it could affect things for the better."

He put a hand on my arm. "I know it still hurts. But it's better to have loved and lost."

"No. It's best to have loved and not lost at all."

"He might come back," he suggested.

"You would. He won't."

He pulled closer and pulled me into an embrace, which I returned. I knew he understood my point exactly. Otherwise, he would have let me stroke him off at the comic book store, maybe even do a lot more than that.

"I'd make sure Ben never got infected," I whispered as we held each other. He gripped me just a little more tightly for that.

He deserved to be happy, to feel loved. I couldn't give him what he needed. Not now, maybe not even in a year from now, or ten years. Maybe never. At least, that's what I had to keep telling myself. Because, otherwise, I might. And if I fucked that up like everything else . . . I'd probably jump off a roof or something.