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*** 18 Mar 2013


A Love so Star-crossed

Epilogue

 

I could get used to waking up to a blue sky of chirping birds and beautiful snoring.

“Who cares if there’s no bed,” I said to the embracing sky.

“Our David has become delusional,” he joked.

“Oh man. Why wake so soon? I love your snoring.”

“You’ll hear it for the rest of your life.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Spending overnight on a bed of grass with no shirt on, that was definitely a first for me. I would remember this day till the last day of my life. I promised myself that, but I guess I didn’t really need to.

“You don’t know how much I missed you, Davy.”

I blushed. I leaned closer to Max’s heavenly body and when our eyes met and locked, I closed the gap between us. Then there was nothing but passion and pleasure between us, raging like a hurricane.

It’d been a while since we connected on this level, so our tongues intertwined in no time, pressing against and fighting with each other as our hands ran all over the other’s skin. Needlessly to say, we were totally hard. And we weren’t shy about it.

When I pulled off from the kiss after five minutes of intense body heat, we shared a smile. Our erections had to be taken care of. Fast.

“Max, do you trust me?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Then follow my lead.”

Unzipping the both of us, I pulled down our pants and underwear to our ankles. Firmly holding his hardness and giving it an occasional stroke, I told him to penetrate me.

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking puzzled. I figured it was time for him to lose the last bit of innocence.

“You know,” I encouraged. “Push it in.”

There was a glint of thrill spurting all the way from his eyes to his male organ. The moment I said those words, I could feel his hardness twitch in my hands, desiring to be included in such an exotic form of satisfaction.

I screamed when he entered me, but he was patient enough to go slowly. Once it was all the way in, I told him to reach his hands forward and stroke my hardness. And so it began, his organ continuously hitting my prostate, and his hands swiftly pleasuring my own hardness. This form of mutual satisfaction was unparalleled.

His rocking back and forth leaped in speed, as calmness matured into a state of exhilarating tumult. Our movements were almost synchronized. This was a feeling I’d never experienced before in my life. I turned and stole a glance of my lover. His eyes were closed, his mouth half-open, hanging there just like he was having the best of time of his life. I was glad he was.

“Me too,” I said to him when his eyes opened.

We didn’t stop. The speed of our movements grew even faster. At that moment, when I looked into his eyes, I saw more than Max himself. I saw the backdrop of this beautiful moment, the coruscating sun sending warmth, and his glittering figure embordered by exalted illumination, and his glistening eyes looking right through me. I saw not only the present at that moment. I saw into the future, and I saw my dream approaching reality.

We climaxed simultaneously, our immature wet orgasms spreading in the air and filling the surroundings with a scent of young love.

“Dave, that was the best feeling ever,” said Max, still panting like he just finished a race.

I kissed him on the lips, and we made out for another minute. The sun was rising, though it was far from its highest point. We had so much time that we could share together.

“Where did you learn about this?” Max asked excitedly.

I tried to look away, but as if with some mysterious, supernatural power Max guided my eyes back to his with his hands. “It’s okay. Tell me.”

“There was this boy…one of the football gang. You know, when I still lived Oklahoma.”

“What was he like?” Was it curiosity or jealousy I sensed? I couldn’t tell. But I started, so I guessed I had to tell him everything.

“He looked a bit like you, only less charming.”

“Ha. I know that already.”

“So Joel was always touching me, and I…I kinda liked it.”

“I would, too. Who wouldn’t?” Max said. I looked deeper into his eyes and I found the truth. He really wasn’t jealous or anything. He was simply interested in my past.

“One day when we were playing some computer game, he touched me. You know, on my thighs, then my dick.”

Max zoned out a little. I gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Oh sorry. I was just picturing the whole thing in my head. Anyway, that must’ve been exciting.”

“Yeah,” I admitted reluctantly, “it was. And so we did it regularly.”

“Nice,” he commented, excited to hear about what happened next.

“Then one time, he just asked me to put it in his butt, and I kinda said yes.”

Kinda?” Max squinted.

“I said yes! Okay?” And we both laughed.

“And so that was the first time we did it. It lasted for a month or two.”

“What happened?”

I closed my eyes and thought back to the day I tried to elevate my relationship with Joel, the moment I tried to kiss him, the joy and the hurt.

“Max, I love you.” I kissed him on the lips. When we pulled away and looked at each other with that complete honesty, I could see that Max was still expecting an answer. I sighed.

“The last time we did it, I tried to kiss him. He pushed me away and left the house –”

“And you never spoke about it again?” Max completed my sentence for me.

I nodded.

“I remember feeling so happy that he was finally asking for it, you know. I thought he wanted our relationship to go on to the next level. I thought I saw it in his eyes. His eagerness and his impatience.”

“But that was your imagination running wild.” Max pulled me closer, showing comforting sympathy.

“Yeah, I guess. I was the one who was so eager to prove our intimacy. I believed that what Joel and I shared was more than an experiment.”

Max kissed me on the cheek, and that was when I noticed we were both crying.

“I wanted it to be love,” I said.

“You know you don’t have to worry when it comes to me, right?” Max smiled. “I. Love. You.”

“I know. Same.”

Then we were lost in another kiss, our arms and legs tangled together and we didn’t want to let go of each other. This wasn’t an experiment; this was love.

We sat there under the benediction of the sun, admiring the gradual rising of the solar God.

“We should probably get our clothes back,” Max said. “I don’t even know how we passed the night without our shirts on.”

“The warmth of each other’s body,” I responded, smiling a naughty smile.

“Hey there, you two lovebirds,” shouted an approaching and worried Jeff. “I’m sorry about last night. Johnny left when we were at the gas station. I don’t know where he went. Do you?”

“As a matter of fact, we do,” Max frowned, staring at Jeff and trying a burn a hole right through his head.

It’s okay, Jeff.” I pulled Max next to me and rested my arm on his shoulder. Together the three of us began walking back to the dorm.

“Room 387,” Jeff murmured to himself.

“So this is where you and Johnny...” Max said to me. Jeff looked at the both of us, confused, expecting something. “Met,” Max completed.

“You met Johnny?” Jeff asked, totally perplexed.

“Yeah,” I answered, “and we talked for a bit last night.”

Jeff seemed suspicious, but I decided it was time to drop the subject.

“Jeff,” I asked in a serious tone, “do your parents know you’re here?”

He grinned.

“You should go back! We’ll be fine here.”

“No way,” he insisted. “I’m taking you two back with me. L.A. misses you.”

“I can’t go back now,” Max said. “My parents are here. They’re probably coming soon, too.”

It was then my deepest worries set in. Suddenly I remembered why I was here. I came to work things out, to ensure Max that we would have a future together. But in reality I did nothing. I sneaked in to see Max, but the problem was still there. I still needed to convince his parents.

Max and I shared another glance. Without saying anything, we both knew that convincing his parents was simply impossible. But what could we do? Ask Max to stay with my parents? No, legally that wasn’t possible, and I would put my parents into trouble. Run away together? We were thirteen years old, for God’s sake. We were broke, and we couldn’t possibly survive.

There was one option and one option only – we had to somehow make Max’s parents understand.

But that turned out impossible. If there was anything I’d learnt that day, it was that sometimes there was no way for me to communicate openly with Max’s father. He was constantly wearing a mask, and frankly I just couldn’t just over that kind of superficial personality.

When Max’s mum and dad arrived that afternoon, the glazing sun hung high on the blueness of the sky. That was when we decided our discussion would take place indoors. And that was when they saw me, Johnny, Jeff and their own son, all in a single room, all looking serious and worried at the same time. This is going to be hard, I reminded myself before fully engaging myself in the conversation.

“I don’t know what to say,” said Max’s mum. At least she wasn’t in denial. At least she wasn’t blind.

Who could be blind enough to not see what was happening between Max and me? Apparently, Max’s own father.

“Hello, David. Nice to see you again. May I ask why you’re here?” He even reached out his hand for me to shake, but retreated probably after spotting the look of disgust on my face. As he scouted around the room and looked for something that probably didn’t exist, Max’s eyes met mine. There was nothing in them, nothing but hopelessness. I concluded that his dad was either afraid of facing the truth or devoid of the proper attitude to cope with the situation.

We waited and waited. Both Jeff and Johnny didn’t say a word. They just looked at each other, trying to figure out what was really going on here. I wish I could tell them I was as lost and clueless as they were. We were all waiting for something, but for what none of us really knew. We just had to wait and see.

“David, do you mind if I take Max with us and go around town and do some sightseeing there?” His father was still calm, but there was a compelling force in his words that one couldn’t deny. This didn’t sound like a choice. Though I wanted to say something rude to his face, I decided it was better not to cross that line. For now.

No matter how many times Johnny apologized, I still ignored him and didn’t plan on talking to him any time soon. He followed Jeff and me as we rambled about in the campus doing nothing in particular. I wondered what the future held for me then.

The whole day I couldn’t get over the fact that I used to think Johnny was a sweet little boy. I mean physically he still was, but I knew better. Jeff didn’t, so they talked about all sorts of stuff, about school, about girls. When Jeff asked me why I wasn’t speaking to Johnny, I didn’t answer, and he didn’t press me to.

We decided to go around town a bit and do some “sightseeing” ourselves though there wasn’t really much to see. The moment I got inside car my phone rang. It was then I wondered how many of my parents’ calls I’d missed. I started to think about how wrong I was to keep ignoring their calls, but before I picked up the courage to call them again later, I saw Max’s name on the screen. Swiping my finger over the screen, I instantly answered the call.

“Hey,” I said.

“David! David! Oh my god. I don’t know what to say. Where are you now? Where are you?” There was hurriedness buried deep in his voice and I sensed a kind of fear that I’d never seen in him before.

“Calm down, Max! Tell me what’s going on.” I was trying to remain calm, but it wasn’t really working when Max was worried like this.

“We...we had an accident. Mum and dad are in the ICU now. David, can you come? Please, can you? David?” He was shouting into the phone.

“Of course I will. Of course I will. Where are you now?”

“Wait! Don’t hang up please, David. Please stay with me, please –”

“I won’t hang up. I won’t, Max. Now are you –”

“St. Francis, Dave. St. Francis Memorial Hospital. Are you coming?”

“I am, Max. I’ll be right there. I promise.” I didn’t know if it was the right time, but I added something anyway. “I love you, Max.”

There was no answer, but only some sobbing. I also heard some distant noises from the hospital, patients’ names being read out and doctors and nurses walking through the corridor.

“Max, listen to me. Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“No! I was in the back seat. But my parents…they…David, are you coming? David? Please come quickly okay? Please –”

“You need to calm down, Max. Sit next to someone. I’ll be there soon. Jeff and I are already on the highway.” We weren’t, but we were almost on it, and it was certainly the right thing to say. “You’ll wait for me, right? Max?”

He didn’t answer, and I told Jeff to speed up. I told him everything and he obeyed without complaint.

A new year was nearing, but unfortunately this was no time for celebration.


It Takes Time to Heal…

Max’s mum looked pale in her hospital gown, but it was excellent news that she was getting better. Max and I, my mum and dad all looked cheerful and glad that she was all right and getting amazing progress in her recovery.

My mum and dad were exasperated when they first arrived at St. Francis a month ago. I guess their understanding had limits. It took two weeks or so for them to truly forgive me for my irresponsible behavior.

It was sad watching Max’s dad lying on the bed, motionless, emotionless like a corpse. But the doctors said having faith was crucial.

“Do you think he’ll ever wake up?” Max asked me worriedly, tears forming in his eyes.

“I wish I knew, Max.”

“He will,” said Max’s mum, pulling Max into a hug.

This was the man who was cruel to our relationship. This was man that objected every meaning of our being. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t feel hatred. All I felt was regret. All I felt was sorrow. This man was once strong enough to do great things, loved in his own ways, but now he was completely still, completely immobile. I knew I’d heard this many times, but this was the moment when I knew human beings really are fragile, and fate can really be a damn bastard sometimes.

The day Max’s dad was transferred back to California was distressing. The charm of old California didn’t work on any of us. That whole day, my father said one sentence only. He said, “It takes time to heal.” And I chose to believe him.

Max was back at Cheavers, and things were getting back to normal, or relatively normal. There would always be a scar in our hearts. Sure it would fade, but it would never vanish. Just like my dad said, we had to “wait for the day we don’t feel the scar anymore.”


Living My Dream, Kind Of…

When we were almost fourteen, Max and I entered the high school phase of our lives. It was a period of disorderliness, but despite every setback and obstacle, we stayed together, just like we promised.

The beach was still our favorite place. High school was busy but we always found time for each other. While most of our friends signed up for a great load of after-school activities, we didn’t sign up for anything. When school was over, we always, always went to the beach and let our tanned skin be soaked in sunlight. Our acquaintances never quite understood the reason behind and often they ended up categorizing the two of us into the odd ones, or “faggots” if you like. Everyone out of the ordinary, everyone who didn’t follow the large group was a faggot.

But we knew better. We didn’t care. We had each other, and that was more than enough.

I guess you can say we chose the “nerd path.” But I can proudly tell you that nerds are the best. Our friends knew our secret and kept their lips sealed. They helped us out with the academic stuff. We didn’t understand all of the “nerd language” but we were satisfied enough to understand half of it. The most important thing was that we felt we could be ourselves around these people, and that alone was a good enough reason for taking them in our circle of close friends. There were seven of us, and we all kept in touch after graduation.

The visits to the hospitals were mostly depressing, and it was hard not to notice the worry lingering in Max’s eyes and the hidden pain stirring his heart. We did share what we experienced in school sometimes, but most of the time we just sat there, putting ourselves in a game of three-way staring. Silence could tell stories, and I hoped Max’s father understood our stories. Someday I’d like to hear his response.

The first summer after starting high school was like the summer we met. We built forts with sand and ran and kissed and loved. My house reeked of love and sex.

I was living my dream, kind of.


I Heard Your Stories…

Senior year for us was a nightmare, but it was  still a happy one. With Max beside me, I found nothing impossible. The SATs might be difficult for us, but when we studied together, it was highly efficient.

We were seventeen, and both of us got a part-time job at the same place, a place that meant a lot to us. The diner where we sat the very first day we met, the day when I was moved by his overwhelming confidence. We were both hired as waiters there.

The first few months of twelfth grade flew by. When we celebrated a new year and an upcoming stage of our lives, we were so excited, both for ourselves and for each other. As graduation neared, we’d sent countless numbers of college application forms. The day we were informed that UCLA admitted us was probably the best day in our lives. Needless to say, it was the fact that we both got into the same college that made us remember that day so well.

When the day of graduation came our circle of close friends, all seven of us pretty much stayed out of the others’ way and for the first time in two years, threw ourselves an after party, which was truly rare. The last time was two years ago in tenth grade, and the party ended up as a sharing session – of Max and I’s experiences – and everyone was satisfied after hearing such an epic story.

I’ll never forget the moment I left my high school. I remembered what I’d been through these few years. And guess what? All I saw was Max, and Max, and Max. I saw us on beach, in my house, in my room, on my bed…

When I left, I didn’t look back. We didn’t look back.

Both Max and I were determined to become English majors. Though my parents seemed to have bigger plans in store for me, I told them what I wanted, and I made them understand, them being the kind of easy-going people they were.

We had to switch rooms with our roommates for us to get a double room together, and the upsetting fact was that I couldn’t be with Max the first few days.

UCLA was huge, but I guess there was no point comparing it to Cheavers. We were here now.

On a frigid November evening, Max received a call, and it woke us both up.

We rushed to the hospital then.

The room smelled of chocolates and fruits; the air was mixed with jumbling emotions. I couldn’t describe the joy on Max’s face when we noticed the familiar shadow sitting upright behind the cyan curtain.

When we went inside, I expected Max’s dad to freak out. But he didn’t. He just smiled at us and said something I’d never forget for the rest of my life.

“I heard your stories,” he said.


Twelve Years is a Complete Circle…

Just like the hours on an analog clock, and the months in a year, and the number of the signs of the Zodiac, twelve years is a complete circle, and I’ve known Max for twelve years. I have learnt throughout the years that the secret to success in life is that you never give up.

Late at nights, when Max lies beside me looking sexy and seductive, I often wonder what would have happened if Jeff and I hadn’t gone all the way to San Francisco for Max. My lover says that it wouldn’t have mattered, because he would’ve gone for me anyway. But I guess we’ll never know. There’s this funny thing about choices in life. You go down a road, you can’t look back. You go down a road, you’ll never know what kind of future the other road holds.

I insist Robert Frost said it perfectly right by stating that he couldn’t travel both roads that diverged, and even better when he said that taking the less traveled and more challenging road had made all the difference. This is the story of Max and David.

But Max doesn’t agree with me. He often says that our love has always been written in the stars. No matter what roads we choose, he says that deep in his heart, he knows that we’ll always end up back together. He says this is the mysterious force of the universe, a destiny that can’t be erased.  And though I’m glad I made the hard choice and got Max back, I’m inclined to trust Max’s version of our story. It makes our love more mighty, more invincible.

This morning is peaceful. Sam and Rick are downstairs doing a literature assignment together, and I suggest to Max that we help them out a bit. He nods, and so we descend the stairs.

Sam is twelve, and we adopted him two years ago. He’s a good boy and never causes any trouble. He’s also very confident, like Max. That’s what we love about him.

Financially we’re more than okay. Right now my dad’s my boss, but he’s planning on retiring soon and making arrangements for Max and me to take over the business. That’s also why we’re ready to adopt more children. This is also the point where we disagree. I say five, Max says four. I guess we’ll just wait and see.

There is no one downstairs and we look around for them without success.

“They must be at the garage messing with the car again,” Max suggests.

“Damn it. I told them not to touch that.”

“Oh come on. Boys will be boys.”

“We weren’t like that,” I say.

“Well, we did other things.” I grin at Max, and he returns a playful smile. He’s right.

I love our garage. It’s a huge storage space and beautifully decorated. Sometimes I enjoy reading there more than I do in the house. It’s usually very quiet and I’m the kind of person that requires a lot of concentration when reading.

Slowly Max and I approach the garage door. It isn’t as quiet today.

“What’s that noise?” Max looks confused.

“There’s a ladder here. Let’s see through that window up there.”

“Are we going to spy on them?” Max asks, looking unsure of what we’re about to do.

“Hey! It’s fun.” I say.

He just nods and follows.

When we’re up, we have a complete view of the garage space. Sam and Rick are lying against the wall, panting and looking all serious, sharing weird glances. In front of them on the floor is a magazine. But what gets to me is the staring. It’s always the staring that gets to me the most. The staring the two of them share is so sincere, so trusting, and in a way, so mutually attractive to a close friend. I feel I’m wrong playing this part and spying on them, but once I’ve started watching I know I can’t withdraw myself from this scene. I know I have to stay and see for myself; I know curiosity has once again captured my mind.

Max doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t need to. He always doesn’t need to say much, because after all these years we’ve come to understand each other easily just by body language and facial expression.

Of course the two adolescent boys are so carefree and so engulfed in their own world of teenage discovery. Their panting rises in speed with a sweet rhythm that we can almost sing to, and though this is all so weird I feel so energized by past memories I still hold on to and consider as precious. For a moment I’m taken by nostalgia to a place I haven’t visited for a long time; for a moment, I feel the power of youth. I know at twenty-five I’m still young. But everyone knows that it’s different; everyone knows that the feeling of youth declines greatly with age.

I kind of want to kiss Max right here. It never seems to get old after all these years. I still love him and cherish him like I did in the past, and perhaps even more so now that we’re family. But another part of me doesn’t want to look away and miss anything important. This is so wrong, but at the same time this is all so reminiscent, so reminiscent of our past that seems so distant and unreachable, yet also a past that is replaying in front of our eyes right now. It pulls me in like gravity, and I feel in my heart a quiet ache that has become increasing noticeable as the years go by. I feel old suddenly.

“Do you think they are like us?” Max whispers.

“You see what they’re looking at?” I say.

“Playboy,” Max answers.

“So…do you think they’ll grow up to be like us?” Max presses.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But does it matter?”

Max smiles. “You’re right,” Max says. “We love our son for who he is. We love people for who they are.”

I nod, “The world would be a much better place if everybody did.”

I look inside once again, and realize this is the purest and most innocent form of humans. This is growing up. This is childhood, and it is very beautiful.

“Quiet now,” I remind Max.

And they are almost done. Their bodies are tense and their breathing is rapid. I can almost imagine the tingling feeling that builds inside of them as they reach the unstoppable moment of a life time, the feeling that they’ll certainly come to love.

“Come on, let’s go,” Max says. And we quietly go down the ladder and return to solid ground. When we turn and look at the morning sun, the world feels different. It’s almost a purer place.

“Sam!” I call. “Come here. We’re meeting your grandparents at the beach this afternoon!”

“Come on, Sam,” Max shouts. “I don’t want us to be late.”

Then a clear voice comes from inside the garage. “Be right there!”

We wave goodbye to Rick, and he smiles back at us. I love that kid for two reasons. First, he reminds me so much of myself, a little bit shy but a completely different person when he’s with Sam. Second, when he looks at Max and me together, he looks just the same way, without that bit of disgust and hate that I often see in other people. I don’t know how these two are connected. Are they simply best friends? Are they more than that?

I’d love to believe in the latter, but deep in my heart I understand that I’m fine as long as our son is happy. And sometimes I worry. What if it’s really the latter? I know for sure that though times are changing, it still won’t be an easy path for them.

The sun is going down, drawing noon to afternoon and slowly toward evening. We are in our vehicle, the three of us, driving to the beach. Yes, we still live in the same old neighborhood. And to be honest, I don’t think we’ll ever move away. I can say that for at least for Max and me.

The beach hasn’t changed much over the years. There are still houses on the left and traffic on the right, and the summer wind still feels so intimate and fervent, just like how our passion started to blossom all those years ago. I wish I could visit those times again, be in school again, and be a kid again. School was a dangerous place for us, and we suffered a lot because of unjust prejudice. But now that I’m standing here looking out at the calm and endless ocean, I still wish I could go back.

In front of me unfolds a series of moments, and I wonder what would have been different if I had done things differently. I remember Gregory Simons and that incident with Max. I remember Jessica and Melissa and us in cinema. But the image that floats on top is the conversation I shared with Sebastian when we were at the family reunion barbecue.

I look up to the sky and I can almost see the stars even at this time of the day; I can almost reach them, and see Max and me up there, watching smilingly.

“Hey Max,” someone says from behind us. It’s Max’s mum, and his dad, looking still like a young man in his early thirties. He is charismatic even at this age, and we smile at each other.

Them my phone rings. “Sorry David,” my mom says on the other side of the phone, “I don’t think we can make it to the beach. I need to go with your father to the company to get something back. We’ll join you for dinner tonight, okay?”

“All right, sure thing,” I say, and hang up.

From this distance, I can see my family down there having a good time. I smile inside, and watch silently as Sam swims and Max and his mother sit and chat sitting on moist sand.

“David, nice to see you. How are you doing?” Max father asks, still being so formal after all these years. It has taken me years to figure out that it isn’t really a mask he is wearing; it is who he is. He isn’t pretending; he’s just a person who doesn’t display much emotion on his face. But after all this time, I’m pretty confident I can read him.

“I’m doing well,” I say. “Max and I will be taking over the business soon, and I expect you guys to look after Sam for us when we’re too busy to.”

“I look forward to that, David.” I smile, and he returns a heartfelt smile just like he always does. It takes years of practice to see through that smile and discover the sincerity.

I look out to an impending sunset and smile again. I don’t know why but I feel really happy inside.  It is moments like this that allow us to reflect on our lives, think back on what we’ve done and we’ve been through.

“Dad,” I say. I’ve been calling him that for almost six years, since the day he wakes from his coma. “May I ask you a question?” He nods.

“Why did you force Max to go to that boarding school?”

I wait for the answer patiently. It’s been a question that I’ve wondered about and wanted to ask for a long time but never did. I know that he’s already accepted Max and me being together, but still I want to know why. I want to know why he was so against it before the accident but developed an utterly different attitude afterwards.

“I was afraid,” he says, undeniable seriousness showing on his face. “I was afraid for Max, afraid that he would have a bad future with you. I was afraid of how the society would treat him. I was being selfish, but –”

He pauses, looking at me for second, and I nod, letting him know that it’s okay to tell me.

“But the accident changed everything,” he continues. “Maybe the accident wasn’t a bad thing.”

I am shocked by this very comment, but I decide to continue listening.

“I couldn’t move, and most of the time I was unconscious, but when I was awake, I had time to think. A lot, a lot of time to think. That timelessness in my state of mind was terrible. The feeling that you’re going to be trapped inside a room without anyone to talk to forever. That feeling is horrifying. But when I got used to it, I had time to think about things, think things over and over again.”

His eyes are glistening in the sun, and for a moment I see Max in his eyes. For a moment I seem to understand everything he’s telling me.

“And I also heard things. Stories, to be exact. The stories that you and Max told me. One by one, I was forced to hear them. I didn’t have a choice. That was a good thing, I think, being forced to listen. When it began, I was totally resistant and wanted to wake up and take Max away from you, because I was sure that this future wouldn’t be positive, both for Max and for you. I was sure that things would turn out disastrous.”

He stops, takes a long breath, and looks me in the eye for another time. I smile at him.

“But being forced to listen was really a good thing. It really was. Sometimes I think that’s just what people need. To be forced to listen and observe for a little while before coming to a conclusion. Sometimes I think that is what prejudice and unfairness come from; they come from not listening closely and carefully enough. When I had more time to listen, when I listened to all those stories, I felt something that I hadn’t felt for a long time. I saw my wife and me going on dates in our high school days.  I saw us skipping school together for horror movies and book stores. I remembered how we both had a passion for reading. As I listened to the stories you and Max told, these images sprung up in my head like a novel, and I was reliving my own teenage days. That’s when I –”

He pauses for a second. “That’s when I realized it was love.” I pull him into a hug. He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t pull away. Good enough for Max’s father.

“That’s when I realized it was love, but not a game, and not a dangerous ‘thing’ that you were doing. Love was meant to overcome obstacles and I decided to believe in the two of you. I know I was still unconscious and useless in my half-dead body, but at that moment I thought I was making the best decision in my life.”

“I’m sure it was,” I echo.

“Since then I’d been fighting really hard to get back to the real world, and I was in time to see you graduate college.”

“You sure didn’t disappoint. You made me feel like we’re a family on that day. A family of Max, me, and you guys, our parents. I’m pretty sure I was the happiest graduate that day, ‘cuz I already had a clear idea where my life was heading while many others were still searching for meaning in life. I’d already found mine. It feels so amazing when you’re living for something worthwhile.”

From a distance, when Max looks at me in the eyes and see his father willingly being pulled into a hug, his eyes almost jump out. We share a smile that speaks a thousand words. Looking further out I can see that sunset finally arrives, and the magical sun prepares to rest for the night under the ocean far out on the horizon. And in front of it, equally magical, is Sam, a child still striving to find his meaning in life, a child that I’ve recently come to love very much, sometimes even a bit more than Max. I close my eyes and envisage the next vision in my life, because I’ve fully fulfilled one, and now I’m chasing another, and I know that’s what life is – a constant chase of beautiful dreams.

I am a dreamer, and years later – I will still be here, dreaming impossible dreams, in a ceaseless odyssey that concludes with two soul mates who look out into familiar waters, tasting the salty wind, listening to the tireless currents, feeling the setting sun – I will rise and fall like the rise and fall of waves, and a familiar face will row an old dinghy into the calm sea, into eternity, into a fair world, into Eden.

The End


Here we are, the end of a journey well-travelled. A million thanks to those who’ve followed the story and a million more for those who’ve shared their opinions with me. This is my first story (since I consider this and “Growing Intimacy” one whole story, and really my first attempt on this kind of alternate romance. When I write more, and I will, I’ll be looking forward to more of your precious responses.

And remember, beside the authors and readers themselves, Nifty itself is also very important, for it provides a platform for authors and stories like this to be read for pleasure. So do donate if you can: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

My Stories:

A Love so Star-crossed (gay/young-friends/2012Dec-2013Mar)

Growing Intimacy (gay/young-friends/2012Nov)