The Increasingly Misnamed Short Story (AKA, This is A Not-So-Short Story, pt. 16)
Two days in a row? I don’t normally do this, but I’ve been away from posting it for a while, so here’s some more. If you’re interested in reading the 15 previous installments you can find them here.
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He sighs again, fully knowing the answer. A part of him will always feel a kind of guilt for parting the way they did in high school. More than that guilt, a part of him still feels an unbearable pain. A pain that lessens every day that he now spends with his boyfriend.
He turns around, his back firmly against the cold, hard glass. He gently rests his head on the glass before sliding to the floor.
Even thinking of that moment, that incident… it still fills him with the same sense of loss and pain that he felt then.
“Fucking leave him.”, the upper classman said, “Leave him and date my sister.”
“Why would I ever do that?”, he replies.
“Don’t think I don’t know who you are or who your parents are.”, the upper classman said.
The mention of his parents made his eyes grow large.
“And what would you tell my parents?”, he asked, half hoping that he wouldn’t get an answer.
“I’d tell them what a little fucking faggot they raised. I’m sure your parents would love to hear that.”, the upper classman said.
He gulped hard. His eyes widened and he pulled a fist in to a tight fist.
“You wouldn’t.”, he said, glaring at him through partially closed eyes.
“Oh, but wouldn’t I?”, the upper classman responded.
He sat down in a chair and leaned back.
“Do you want to test me?”, the upper classman challenged.
He sighed a resigned sigh. He slowly shook his head. He realized at that time that he would feel the agony of his heart breaking. If there was anyone in the world who didn’t deserve to be hurt in this way, it’s his boyfriend.
“OK. You win.”, he said, the tone of his voice was full of sorrow, “So, what does your sister look like?”
“I’ll introduce you two when we get back from the school trip.”, the upper classman said.
The upper classman slapped his back and said, “I thought you would see it my way.”
He started to walk down the hall to the room that he shared with his boyfriend and two other classmates.
“Shit.”, he thought, “How do I talk to him about this? How do I bring up that I…”
A tear streamed down his face as that thought began to cross his mind. He shook his head.
“I’m going to get back to him. I’ll feel his arms around me…”, he said, trying to make himself feel better.
“But…”, he continued to think, “I still have to leave him when we get back.”
He sighed heavily as he slid open the door. He deftly made his way to his futon.
“Thankfully we’re sharing a futon.”, he thought with a slight sigh of relief, “If we’re to be parted when we get back, at least we have right now. This…”
The tears begin to pour more steadily down his face. He shakes his head.
He lifts up the covers and slides in next to his awake and aware boyfriend.
“What did he want?”, his boyfriend asks.
He shakes his head before responding.
“Nothing we need to worry about right this moment.”, he responds, resting his head on his boyfriend’s chest. He listens to the warm thump of his boyfriend’s heart. He revels in the warmth of his body and feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest. In a perfect world, he would be able to stay like this forever.
Unfortunately they live in this world. The world where they were separated for years. The world where they both intimately understood the meaning of the word loss and suffering. The world where he dreaded to be with the person he loved. The world that was so homophobic that he had no idea what his family would do if he was outed to them.
His boyfriend wrapped his arms around his slight boy. He held him close. As much as it pained him to know what was going to happen with them; he still didn’t want to lose him. As he held his boyfriend tight, he took a deep breath. He wanted to take in the very essence of this boy. This might be the last time he even gets to hold this boy in his arms.
He found himself gently lulled to sleep by that boys heartbeat.
(To be continued…)