"When I was a kid I wanted a family. I had it in my head I'd have a dog, two parents, at least one brother. Then," a wry smile,a sigh.
"I'd end up in a foster home with two parents and foster siblings and sometimes there were pets and all I wanted was to leave. It's always been this way for me. But I've learned how to be happy and how to be with other people in the way that works for me; it's not normal. It's not what other people seem to have. But I can live with it."
He listens when Jesus goes and tells him the things he had wanted once upon a time. He can't say he ever wanted similar, given his coming from a broken home, but. Feeling as though you're not the so-called normal one when it comes to relationships or the expectations of them... he can relate to that. Unfortunately? Who knows.
"There's always that disappointment from others, you know? It's like... they expect you to be ok with how they see it — how they do things but... when you feel like you're crawling out of your skin because of it or like you're feeling trapped and you're going crazy or getting angry because of it, they just don't get it. Or take it as you not really caring. When you do, it's just... different. I don't know."
"I always care. I never stop caring." Even with them all being dead now, even with his last relationship having ended twelve years ago. "But you can only care the way you know how. And my way doesn't look like how people expect. I think yours probably doesn't either. It doesn't mean it isn't real."
It's strange how, hearing that from someone else who genuinely understands it and is that way... it's comforting. Strange only because John hasn't really had that here — had someone who is more or less similar with feelings about all of that.
"Yeah," the word is soft, much like the nod to follow. "I've struggled with that a lot here. Like where I love someone but it's not in the forever kind of way. But I don't know. Even then I wonder if it's being in love with someone or just loving them. It's different, you know?"
"Yeah. At least I assume it is. I've loved men. I've never been in love." Not in any groundbreaking, powerful way. Not in any way that lasted even if he does still care for his exes.
That has John glancing down to his hands — to the small spark of flame he ignites there in his palm and just holds. Gently. As if so precious to him.
"I wonder about that, too," he says then, soft. "Whether I'm in love or just love them." And that right there is something he hasn't really talked about before.
"I wish I could say what the difference is. How to get from one feeling to the other." But like John said, it's not fair to the other person in the relationship. So Jesus just doesn't have relationships.
His... ex? His boyfriend here— Alec. He's sure he was in love with him. It wouldn't have hurt so much to lose him if he hadn't been, even if some things between them had changed. But his other relationships here, he's not sure and no one wants to be told that someone loves them but isn't in love with them.
Cradling the small flame there in his hand, he looks over to Jesus then.
"Thanks," he says then. "For... listening. Not judging, I guess."
"Be pretty hypocritical of me to judge," he points out, though there is a reason he earned his nickname. Judgment isn't something he holds onto.
"The one thing the survivors I know have in common is we take the good where it comes and we don't let it ruin us when it's gone. I think you'd survive with us."
"Guess with a name like Jesus it would be." Not that he's Holy or anything himself.
Tilt of his head though, he looks the other man over, still holding onto that small flame. When he'd had his lighter, he was always clicking it. Over and over again. A sort of comfort to him.
"Give it a bit to really get to know me and see if you still feel that way."
Look at him inadvertently inviting Jesus to do just that: get to know him.
Regardless, he leans over and steals a playful little kiss from the man, putting the flame out in his hand as he rolls his shoulders back. "Well, anyways. Can't say this is how I pictured my night going, but. No complaints here."
He kisses him back and laughs. "Good. That's all I ask. I need to head home to get some things but I'll be here tomorrow night, if you feel like dropping by. And if not, I'll catch up with you later."
"Want me that bad, huh? Flatterer." Teasing a bit, he shifts away on the bed to fix himself up a little, fingers running through his hair after. "You got my contact, so. Always just a text away."
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"I'd end up in a foster home with two parents and foster siblings and sometimes there were pets and all I wanted was to leave. It's always been this way for me. But I've learned how to be happy and how to be with other people in the way that works for me; it's not normal. It's not what other people seem to have. But I can live with it."
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"There's always that disappointment from others, you know? It's like... they expect you to be ok with how they see it — how they do things but... when you feel like you're crawling out of your skin because of it or like you're feeling trapped and you're going crazy or getting angry because of it, they just don't get it. Or take it as you not really caring. When you do, it's just... different. I don't know."
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"Yeah," the word is soft, much like the nod to follow. "I've struggled with that a lot here. Like where I love someone but it's not in the forever kind of way. But I don't know. Even then I wonder if it's being in love with someone or just loving them. It's different, you know?"
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"I wonder about that, too," he says then, soft. "Whether I'm in love or just love them." And that right there is something he hasn't really talked about before.
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Cradling the small flame there in his hand, he looks over to Jesus then.
"Thanks," he says then. "For... listening. Not judging, I guess."
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"The one thing the survivors I know have in common is we take the good where it comes and we don't let it ruin us when it's gone. I think you'd survive with us."
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Tilt of his head though, he looks the other man over, still holding onto that small flame. When he'd had his lighter, he was always clicking it. Over and over again. A sort of comfort to him.
"Give it a bit to really get to know me and see if you still feel that way."
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Regardless, he leans over and steals a playful little kiss from the man, putting the flame out in his hand as he rolls his shoulders back. "Well, anyways. Can't say this is how I pictured my night going, but. No complaints here."
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"Hey, if you ever figure out what the difference is," between in love and just love, "will you tell me?"
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"Not gonna guarantee I ever will, but. Yeah. Will do, handsome."