Never Regret Yesterday
The Final Chapter
This is a story of friendship, commitment, love and trust. It is not a sex story. However, this story deals with love between two male teenagers. If you are offended by stories involving love between two teenage boys, please do not read this story. There will be some sex scenes in this story; however, sex is not the main theme.
If you are under age 18 or 21 or it is illegal to read this story where you live, don't read it. tlc_TLC_uk-Stories:Trust retains copyright to this story. Reproducing this story for distribution without the owner's permission is a violation of that copyright.
"So, it's all over?" I asked.
"Yeah. Sam, you know it's got to be this way."
"Jordan, I-I didn't want it to end like this. I love you. You are what I want! You are what's real to me!" I cried as the tears began to flow.
"Sammy, I love you too, but we both knew it would end like this. Remember? It was originally going to be called 'Romeo & Jullian', a romance, and a tragedy. You planned it that way."
"I was wrong! If you leave I'll have nothing! No love! Nothing!"
"Sammy, that's simply not true. You have your life!"
"My life! My LIFE!"
"Chill OUT DUDE!" Jordan said as he embraced me and held me close. I cried.
"If I'd never said anything it could have gone on. It wouldn't have had to end."
"Sammy you know that isn't true you were getting tired of the situation. You were getting tired of lying. You were getting tired of me or jealous."
"Jealous?" I asked.
"Yeah. You know you were jealous when the prof wrote me and usually answered my emails way before yours."
"No. I was just…"
"Jealous," Jordan laughed.
"Yeah, well, now he hates both of us," I retorted.
"No. He just hates you. You were the one that lied; that wasted his time. Right?"
I had nothing to say; I'd definitely fucked up royally. I had perpetrated the lied. I had continued the lie. I knew sooner or later I'd get caught in the lie, but I never realized that the effect would be people wouldn't trust me. How stupid can one person get? I guess as stupid as me.
I started thinking about how I got caught. I had sent a treatment for a story to the professor. It seemed like days had gone by; no reply, no acknowledgement. I shouldn't have cared; after all I wasn't an official student; he was just being kind, but not hearing from him about my work was getting to me. I began thinking if I had been Jordan he would have answered in a flash. I was getting really moody and short tempered with everybody. I made some sarcastic remark to Dawson and that was what started it all.
"Okay, Sam, what was that all about?" asked Dawson.
"What was what?" I answered with a question. I couldn't look him in the eyes.
"Come to my office. NOW!" he ordered.
One thing I've learned in the last few years is when Dawson uses that tone of voice and it's an order you comply. I followed him to his office. I knew I was in trouble.
"Sam, what's going on? And don't deny it cuz I can read you like a book! When you get bitchy it means something serious is going on. Now give!"
"I'm just upset because the professor hasn't emailed me."
"The professor? Who is the professor?" he asked.
"Shit!" I thought. "Uh, mmm, uh, he's a guy I met on the net. He's a real university professor. He's helping me write better."
"Really? How long has this been going on?" he asked. One thing I always find impossible to do is to lie to Dawson. Suffice to say we ended up in front of my computer with him pouring over my emails asking questions. Then came the question.
"Sam, what's Nifty?"
I went beet red. "It's…it's a website that…that I posted a story on."
"Good! Let's look at your story. Shall we?" he ordered. "You navigate."
I was caught. I had no idea what was going to happen. I had visions of Dawson kicking me out, or him beating me to a pulp. Somehow, I managed to get to the first chapter of NRY. He looked at me.
"Are you gay, Sam?" he asked softly.
"Yes. No. I don't know!" I started crying. He pulled me into a gentle hug.
"Hey, I'm a little shocked, but it's not the end of the world. Okay?"
I nodded and he proceeded to read the story. He said nothing as he read and I just sat there wondering if when he finished reading he'd ask me to pack my clothes and get out. I had no place to go. Although I had received hundreds of emails and I felt like I have hundreds of friends, I began to realize I'd lied to them all; all, but a few and the few I had been honest with never wrote me again. I had built this web of deception and I was the one trapped. I had become my own victim.
Dawson looked at me and shook his head from side to side slowly. He was not smiling.
"Sam, Sam, Sam," he sighed then a slight smile appear on his face, "God, you're a damn good writer."
He continued, "I can understand why this professor offered to help. This is not the type of story I would ever read, but you're really good! However, you know this whole situation is not okay. You're being dishonest and you know how I feel about that. You're getting help under false pretenses. Why weren't you honest with the professor?"
"He liked Jordan better. He was only helping me because of us, me and Jordan. I was scared if I told him the truth he'd never talk to me again. He'd never help me. All I've ever wanted is to be a writer, a good writer, not just a writer, a good writer!"
He looked at me for what seemed like an eternity with out saying a word, without letting his eyes drop from mine. Finally, he spoke, "Okay, I'll enroll you on a creative writing course, in exchange you get honest with the professor and these other people you've been deceiving. There will be some that will turn their backs on you and may even hate you for being deceptive; if they are a true friend, they won't, but you will have to earn their trust again and that might be real difficult. Look, Sam, I don't approve of you visiting this kind of website, nor do I approve of you reading this kind of material, especially at your age. I expect you to handle this situation yourself and to become honest and truthful. I can't and won't force you to do anything. I don't have the time to police your activities. That is your responsibility. You know and I know that if you don't take the responsibility to correct this situation things will get worse and you'll end up having to leave. I don't want that because I love you. It's your job to get honest."
He left me sitting at my computer. Dawson never forces you to do anything; he just makes it real that you have to do the right thing. I closed my eyes and thought of what Dawson had said.
"So, this is it, J-Dude," I mumbled.
"I know and it's cool dude. I've had a great time with you," I could hear him say softly.
"I love you and I'll always remember you. I'll miss you too," I thought.
"Yeah, I know. Maybe you can put me in another story in the future; you know an action adventure story."
"That's a great idea, action adventure! But for now, bye," I said quietly as I open my eyes. There was no answer, he was gone for now. Maybe someday, I'll write the action adventure story and make him part of it.
I looked at the monitor brought up my email program and started writing the email to the professor.
It's been a couple of days since I decided to become honest.
"He hates me now," I said to Dawson.
"Very probably. I would," Dawson commented. He saw I was still disturbed about being dismissed as a student. "Sam, you see he became friends with a couple of characters that he thought really existed and you deceived him and made those characters even more real sending him pictures of two people who somewhat matched your description. Then suddenly he finds out that one of the characters was the figment of your imagination. A character he was fond of doesn't really exist. Now tell me how would you feel?"
"Cheated. I guess I would be very upset especially if the character I liked the most was the one that didn't exist."
"Okay. Then just remember 'Never Regret Yesterday…'"
Hey Peeps! Well, this is really the end of this story.
I've learnt a lot about life and myself. I had lots of questions about my own sexuality when I started writing; I also had a lot of preconceived ideas, those ideas disappeared with all the emails that I received from very caring people. They all confirmed my feelings that people are people; they all bleed, breath, cry, laugh, communicate and most of them love and care about others. It doesn't really matter about their race, creed, sex or sexual orientation; what matters is what they do and that determines their worth. My worth went down when I purposely lied to people that cared about my future and me. I could say 'I'm sorry', but that's not really doing something, it's just saying something.
Hey Professor, I don't know if you will read this or if you're still pissed with me. I know I sent you an apology, but thinking it over, that's not really enough, is it? It's just words, not even on paper. I just wanted to let everyone know how much you have helped me. Your gift to me has been knowledge - that's priceless! But more than that, even in your upset, you gave me confidence, confidence that I have the talent and that I can write well. The payoff will be when my first book is published; and when that day comes I will send you a copy. Thanks.