It was funny in a messed up way, hearing it out loud. Trent had thought their problems were clear. Lover's spats here and there, but mostly “conflicts of interest” with Kirby so adamant about his jock status. But in fact, they bordered on dysfunction. Trent had never thought that coming out would have made as big a difference as Kirby was convinced it would (he heard the rumors about naked twister, but never dared bring it up). There were times though, when he thought he'd accept it completely, no more complaints, no more cheating. But then his hormones would overpower his judgment, and he'd be back to square one. But when would they have stopped sneaking around, if ever? Kirby was destined for professional sports, and he certainly wouldn't have come out then, if he couldn't on a high school football team. And he'd been about to let that go on until something just happened to make it stop. Regretfully, Trent wished now that he had.
It seemed like a cruel joke that fate had brought them together, split them up, and brought them together again just so they could split up in slow motion.
He gave a short, humorless chuckle. “No, it doesn't. Why the fuck are we talking about it?” It never would have worked out anyway, he wanted to say. Let's just forget it. He wished that was possible. Trent had always had the notion that if they could just talk through it as mature adults, they'd both realize it had been stupid and get back together. Or, they'd realize that they just had personality differences that made them incompatible all along, and Trent could move on. But it was neither, and now he ached even more. It's not gonna get any better, he thought.
“Let's just...,” he began to say those final words. Let's end it right here. But he inwardly choked, unable to finish.