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Jimmy the Love-Virus.
By John T. S. Teller.
Part fourteen.
When I get up the following morning to make coffee for us, and while Jimmy is still in bed, I find a note on the dining table. FOR ROBERT, and Celtic is soon at work.
Dear Rob.
I love you. Thank you for the most wonderful days of my life. Sorry for making you spend such a lot of money on the phone, but I was angry with you for talking about you dying. Sorry. You can take it back if you like, and I'll have a cheaper one. I forgot to tell you that there's a bloke in the next street to ours who fancies me. LOL. He's got ginger curly hair. If I'm not in bed, you'll find me there. Haha.
Love you loads.
J. XXXXXXXXXX
Ps. Take a picture of yourself and send it to me. I want it for the desktop pic on my new phone.
So, I'd been right about why he had chosen the most expensive phone, but I'm not sure I want my picture on it. When he goes to college, someone might rib him about it. I decide to do it, but I'll try to make it a silly one so he can say he's just got a funny picture for his desktop. How? I know. I get my phone, pull the funniest face I can, and open my mouth as wide as I can, and snap the self-picture. I send it to him with the caption: `Cum here.' Let's see what happens. I don't have to wait long before I get a text reply from upstairs.
LOL. LOL. Haha. Brill. Bring my coffy and I will. Luv u. XXX
I take his coffee to the bedroom. Jimmy points his finger at his bedside cupboard, and I place the coffee down. He points to the bed. I lie on it, and Jimmy does exactly what he said in his text. Then he gets off me, grins his sexist grin, and sits up and drinks his coffee, giggling like a schoolgirl.
Mid-morning, and Jimmy asks if he can go and see Sam. I tell him it's no problem, and he's not tied to me, or our house. Also, I tell him that he can invite Sam over anytime, or he can go and spend an evening with him if he wants to do that. This is his house, as well as mine, now.
When he's gone, I'm a happy-chappy, and my latest manuscript goes well. I speak to mum and dad in Monaco, and Jimmy texts me at lunchtime.
VIRUS: Sam luvs yor pic. He cant stop laffing. Luv u. XXX
Me: Bring him with u 4 dinner. We can have 3 in a bed. *smiley face* Luv u. XXX
VIRUS: *smiley face – smiley face* He says 2 get stuffd. XXX
Me: Tell him he was good. XXX
VIRUS: Haha. LOL. Wuss. U cant hndle me so 2 of us wud put u in hospital. LOL. XXX
Me: Go away. *smiley face* Luv u lots. XXX
VIRUS: Sam got hard on now. Haha. Sending u a pic. Haha. Lol. Luv u lots. Spk ltrs. XXX
The pic: Sam with middle finger stuck up at me.
Another pic: Jimmy's butt.
Eleven-thirty, and Debbie arrives. She collects the letters and gives them to me.
"Morning, Rob."
"Good afternoon, Debs."
I get a nasty stare. "It's not afternoon. Don't start changing things because lover boy has moved in with you."
I ignore her. "Are you coming to dinner tomorrow?"
"Haven't you heard?"
"Nobody tells me anything. What now?"
Debbie grins. "You've got a full house. There'll be me and Paula and Sam and both my wenches. They need to be in on it, too."
"No Len?"
"No. You don't like him anyway."
"No I don't. I don't like men who beat their wives."
"That's why I'm leaving him."
I whistle. "It's about time, Debs. I'm sorry."
"Why should you be sorry?"
"Won't the kids miss their father?"
"Miss him? They hate him. Sam, especially."
I'm concerned now. "Why?"
"I haven't told you before, Rob, but he beats Sam up sometimes. He doesn't do it now, because Jimmy gave him a good hiding the last time he did it."
I'm shocked. "Jimmy did that to a grown man!"
"Yes. Sam ran to Jimmy's place the last time he had a beating, and Jimmy came round to our house and kicked Len all over the place. He was like a mad man. A bit of advice, Rob; never make Jimmy choose between you and Sam. It would break his heart, and he might not choose you."
"I'd never try to come between them, and, if I did, I'd deserve all I got. I know how close they are, and it's important to me that they stay that way. Jimmy needs more than me if we're to make a life together."
"You're a wise man, Rob. It's why we all love you, and why we're going to take you up on your offer."
Debbie's revelation is music to my ears, and I can't keep the excitement out of my voice. "That's brilliant! I've also got something else in mind, so I'll have a few surprises when you come. What do you fancy for dinner?"
"You needn't bother. We'll all be here at four, because me and Paula are making dinner. You just get the beers in."
"Sounds good. Why don't you all stay overnight? Little Tracey can go to bed early if she's tired. I've got four bedrooms, so there's plenty of room. Sam can sleep with me and Jimmy."
Debbie is laughing her head off when she goes into the kitchen.
I shout her. "Oi, Debs, has Sam got a phone?"
"Only an old one, and that's got no credit in it most of the time. Why?"
"I've just bought Jimmy a new one. Would you mind if I bought Sam one exactly the same? It's important to me."
"Why's that?"
"We know how close he and Sam are. It's important they stay on the same level. It's what I want. Well?"
"You're a good man, Rob. If it will make you happy, then it's fine with me."
While Debbie is doing the housework, I nip off to my phone shop and buy an identical phone to the one Jimmy has, and, when I get back, I place it on the hall table. When Debbie's leaving, I shout to her. "Take that phone with you. It's on the hall table."
"Right. See you tomorrow."
"Yes, see you at The Mad Hatter's Tea Party." I hear her chuckling as she leaves.
I haven't opened my mail yet, so I look through it. One envelope is handwritten, which is intriguing, so I open that first. It's from Kathleen Pretty.
Dear Rob.
I hope this letter doesn't upset you, but I've got something to tell you. I've met somebody else – Peter - and we're serious, so I've got to tell you that I won't be seeing you again for a date. I'm sorry about that, but not sorry about the good times we've spent together. It's been great fun, and I want us to part as friends. I hope you'll understand. You take care now, and enjoy your future. I mean that. You're a lovely man, and will make someone a great partner one day.
Love,
Kath. XXX
Wow! This is unexpected, but it does solve a few problems for me. Since I've met Jimmy, I've come to realise that I've no intention of being unfaithful to him, whether it be a man or a woman. I'd been chewing the dilemma over in my mind for a few days, and this letter is my out. I telephone her.
"Hello, Kath. Got your letter this morning, and I decided to speak to you, rather than writing. I'm really pleased for you. I really am. I hope it all goes well for you."
"Thank you, Rob. I was hoping you'd understand. We've had some good times, but I need to move on. What will you do?"
"I'll be ok. You know me... I'll go with the flow. I can't say I'm not disappointed. I am, because I've enjoyed what we've had. You're pretty good, you know."
She laughs. "You're not too bad yourself, lover boy. You take care now."
I will, and if you ever need anything, just bell me. I'm here for you."
"Thank you, Rob. The same applies if you need anything. See you around."
"Yeah. Oh, maybe there's one thing you can do for me, Kath." (I have an idea in my mind, and I chat to her about it for about ten minutes.)
I'm at the PC, when a mail comes in from Clive.
Itinerary. Full details later, especially Italy, which is a full week on its own, starting Tuesday 21st and ending Friday 24th September.
Brussels: Monday 13th September. Radio interview at midday. Book signing all afternoon.
Berlin: Tuesday 14th. Television interview on arts program at eleven pm. Book signing a.m. on the day after.
Krakow: No TV or radio interview. Book signing p.m. on Friday 17th.
So, that's nearly two whole weeks I'm going to be away from Jimmy. Not a pleasant thought.
It's about four when I remember the photographs I took of Jimmy on the couch, so I get the car out, and nip off to Tesco's, where I print out a 10 X 8 photo, choose a frame, and go back home. When I've fitted it into the frame, kissed it half a dozen times and positioned it on my desk, I'm even happier than I was before.
It's just turned five-thirty when Jimmy and Sam arrive home, carrying two boxes. (He's got a key, so there's no need to ring the bell now.)
"It's nice to see you two. Ménage à trois, Sam?"
Sam grins. "Get stuffed, Rob. Thanks for the phone. It's great."
"It's my pleasure, Sam. What's that you've got?"
Jimmy brings the boxes to me. "I hope you don't mind, but I've bought a Wii system so me and Sam can play stuff here. You said he could come if I wanted him to."
"I don't mind at all. In fact, I'm dead pleased. This is your home now, James, so you can invite who you like... just so long as I get on with them. Sam's always welcome, and he's welcome to stay overnight any time. (Sam's grinning.) Don't worry, Sam, I was only kidding you the other day. You're not my type, but you have got a fair weapon. The ladies will be queuing up to get that."
"Sod off, Rob. Did you really take my pants off?"
"Of course I did. You didn't think you could come here pissed up and get away Scott free, did you? I had my pound of flesh. Not literally, of course."
Now we're all laughing, and soon the Wii system is out of its box and set up, and I leave the guys to their laughing games, and sit on the sofa and read.
I order pizzas for us, and we eat them in the lounge, rather than in the dining room. I never do this as a rule, but I know I'm going to have to change the way I live, now that I have a boyfriend. And I want to. This is a new experience to me, and watching the guys having fun is so pleasurable, that I pretend to be reading, but watch them instead. The one thing I notice is how close they are. Being an only child, I missed out on sibling love, and I never really had any close friends. My ultimate and unselfish sacrifice is to tell them I'm tired, and that I'm going to bed. Jimmy asks if I want him to come with me, but I tell him to carry on playing, and leave them both. I have a smile on my face as I drift off to sleep to the sound of laughter downstairs.
------------
I wake, and I'm alone. No Jimmy. It's strange: even stranger, because I know my lover has not slept with me: his side of the bed is untouched. I slip out of bed, and go to the bedroom opposite, and open the door. In the half-light, I see them asleep, arms wrapped around each other, and Debbie's words come back to me: `A bit of advice, Rob; never make Jimmy choose between you and Sam.' I thought I understood what she meant, but now I know how utterly ignorant I was about their deep affection for one another. I want to go and kiss these Siamese twins, but I don't. Gently, I close the door, and leave them to their wonderful friendship. Their love is not mine to share.
It's almost ten, and I'm writing at the PC, when Jimmy comes down in his underpants and comes directly to me. I look up, and smile. He's about to say something, but I put my finger to my lips to silence him, hold out a hand, and he sits on my knee. "You don't need to explain anything to me. I saw you both in bed this morning, and I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life, so don't spoil it for me." He kisses me, and rubs his love into my face. I accept it with closed eyes, and drink in the beauty of his being. When I open my eyes, tears are falling down his cheeks, so I kiss them away. The moment passes, and he sees the photograph I had done yesterday, and picks it up.
"When did you have this done?"
"Yesterday. You pair were so engrossed in your bloody Wii that I didn't bother to tell you. What time did you get to bed?"
"Two o' clock. Sorry, Rob."
"If I hear you say `sorry' once more, I'll kick your arse. I'm not your mother, and neither am I your boss. We're equals in this house, and don't you bloody forget it. Now go and make me a coffee. You'd better make your lover one, too, or he'll be moaning at you. Oh, and get some clothes on. You're giving me a hard on in those Tesco underpants."
Jimmy laughs, goes into the kitchen, makes coffee, comes to me with three mugs on a tray, places one on my desk, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and goes off upstairs with the other two. It's not long before I hear the sound of laughter, and I begin to think.
I've lived in this house for two years, and it's never struck me before that it wasn't a home. It was a place to work, to eat, to shag, to have a bit of fun with Debbie, or entertain mum and dad if they stayed. But now, I realise it was never a home. Last night, as Jimmy and Sam played on the Wii, while I pretended to read, and when our pizza was eaten ad hoc, and now, as I listen to the sound of their laughter, I'm aware of the metamorphosis that's taking place at 7 Willow Row; even more so when they both come downstairs, say a quick, `Morning Rob', go into the kitchen and make themselves some beans on toast, and then, after a quick kiss from Jimmy, they go off to see Jimmy's mum. I can't help it: I go to the window and watch them walking along the road until they go out of sight. Is this how it's going to be from now? I hope so, because this is far better that anything I've had before. My Social Housing dwellers are making life worth living. I set into my new book with vigour, and the words begin to flow like honey from a jar. That only happens when I'm in heaven. I've been working for a couple of hours, when: Beep. Beep. Diddly dah do dah
VIRUS: U ok? Luv u. XXX
Me: Fine. Working hard. U having a gud time? Luv u. XXX
VIRUS: Yes. At mums. B home soon. U want me? I cum. LOL. Haha. XXX
Me: Bring me sum choklate. Dark choklate. XXX
VIRUS: That yor fav? XXX
Me: Yes. Luv it. XXX
VIRUS: I go sex shop. LOL. XXX
Me: Haha. Wot 4. XXX
VIRUS: They sell it there to paint on willy. Other flayvers 2. *smiley face* XXX
Me: Yummy. Do they do sticky toffee? If so, get me loads. *smiley face – smiley face* XXX
VIRUS: LOL. LOL. Will do. C u soon. Luv u. Luv u. XXX
Me: Yes. C u soon. Luv u loads 2. XXX
I can't stop laughing at Jimmy's cheeky texts, and decide to make a coffee while I gather myself. It's almost lunchtime anyway, and Debs and Paula and all their lot will be here at four. I'm not too bothered; I've done well with the book this morning. I eat lunch, and I'm just putting the dishes in the dishwasher when Jimmy comes in, carrying a Tesco bag. He has a grin on his beautiful face from ear to ear.
"Have you had your dinner, Rob?"
I grin. "Yes. Just finished. Do you want something?"
"No. I'm ok. I've brought your pudding."
"What is it?"
He's giggling like mad. "I'm just going upstairs. I'll shout you when pudding is ready." And off he goes.
I'm pretty sure I know what pudding is, and when I hear water coming down the stench pipe, I know he's having a shower. It's what he does when he wants sex in the middle of the day. He shouts me, and I go to him, and burst out laughing when I see him lying naked on the bed with a coating of dark chocolate over Willy. He's having difficulty speaking through his laughter, but, eventually, he manages to tell me that treacle toffee is off the menu, and I'm almost wetting myself when he says, "Hurry up, Rob, before it sets."
Love is a many splendored thing. It certainly is that afternoon, before Paula and Debbie and her gang arrive. No matter how serious Jimmy and I try to be, after we've showered and dressed and gone downstairs, we still keep bursting into bouts of hysterical laughter, interspersed with innuendo about various flavours, and where they should be applied. In rare moments of calm, we discuss the sleeping arrangements, and decide that Sam and Jimmy will have our bedroom, Paula another, Debs another, and the two girls can share a double room. When Jimmy asks if I mind if he sleeps with Sam, I tell him that it's not a problem, and that I'm still a bit shy sleeping with him with other people being in the house. I get called a `wuss' for that, but he understands. Although this is my/our home, I'm still a relative newcomer amongst the Social Housing dwellers. I make Jimmy dress for dinner. He chooses his `Castleton clothes', and wears the blue dress shirt and gold belcher. I put on my Ben Sherman choker, without prompting, and then sit Jimmy on a bedroom chair, and play with his beautiful hair. We spend a good fifteen minutes trying various styles. We do this often, and it always ends up with him putting on gel and spiking it up. I call it the `Stan Laurel' style.
My Social Housing dwellers arrive, and young Tracey runs into Jimmy's arms, and he gives her a big hug. That sort of makes me sad, because he should be doing it to his own sister, who is no longer alive. Pauline is distant: a real stroppy teenager, who I most certainly wouldn't like to live with. She does loosen up a bit when the lads get the Wii system out and set up some games for them all to play. I remind myself to get an Xbox for Jimmy for Christmas. He'll also need his own PC. But that's the future, and there are more important things to sort out first. I venture into the kitchen, but before I can open my mouth, I'm told by Debs to, "Get out! This is woman's work!" I save face by telling them I'm only going in there to get a drink. So I pour myself a gin and tonic, add a slice of lemon, and sidle back off to the lounge. The noise is like a Wacky Warehouse, but their laughter is music to my ears, and I reflect that the non-grown-up world they inhabit is worth preserving for as long as possible.
Abstract thoughts about the Social Housing dwellers and me.
There are six of them in this house now. Apart from Pauline's adolescent grumps, all of them are happy, and have slotted into my home as easily as slipping on a favourite pair of slippers. Part of the reason is because I'm easy going, and because I'm becoming very fond of them all, as well as being hopelessly in love with Jimmy. But they have something else that I don't possess: they're malleable to adversity. Is that the way of the world; the lower down the social scale you get, the greater your resolve to survive? How would I cope in their situation? Could I have survived what Paula and Jimmy have gone through? I doubt it. What would be my mental state if I were one of Debbie's kids, suffering beatings at the hands of a bullying father? I think I'd be a drug addict now, if I were in their shoes. But they're not, and that must be down to Debbie's influence on them. So, these four kids are all ok, because they have outstanding mothers. What a fantastic tribute that is to both of them. I know my generous offer to get them out of their Social Housing flats is mainly a selfish one, but, in actual fact, they are getting no more than they deserve. I just happen to be the conduit that's rewarding them, and I know deep down that I'm not a patch on these folk as far as balls are concerned. The irony is that society looks up to me, and looks down on them. What a stupid fucking society.
Abstract thoughts end.
We're all seated around the dining table. For the first time, Jimmy is next to me and not opposite me. Paula did the seating arrangements. Meat and potato pie, fries, mushy peas and gravy; a wholesome but tasty fare, and everyone is enjoying it. I've swapped my wine for a beer, and both Paula and Debbie have a glass of stout, which they brought themselves – there's a six-pack plus two still in the fridge. It must be a Social Housing thing.
Someone has to bring up the topic of them moving, and I decide to do it. "Well, girls, have you given some thought to my proposals? The offer's on the table, and all you have to do is accept it, and we can start the ball rolling."
Paula answers. "Where would you want us to go, Rob?"
"It's up to you. I don't have any preferences, other than you don't leave Jimmy and I on our own. I want you to be part of our lives, not sent off somewhere because you're in the way. The one thing I don't want is Jimmy to change what he has now. Everybody in this room is as important to him as I am. This has to be a `we' thing. But I want you away from where you are now."
Pauline butts in. "I don't want to move. All my mates live where we are now."
I expected this. "How are you doing at school, Pauline? You don't leave until next year, do you?"
"No."
"And then what do you want to do?" It doesn't escape my attention that Paula and Debbie are both keeping quiet.
"I don't want to go to sixth form. I want to try and get a job."
"Looking after kids in some way, I believe?"
"How do you know that?"
"Your mum never stops telling me how good you are with kids, and that you'll make a great mum one day. (I grin at her.) I know she's a pain in the butt to both of us at times, but she doesn't miss much. That's why I keep everything hidden away from her." Pauline's laughing now; with me, which is important. I grin back at her, and wink. "You'll have to trust me on this one, Pauline, but when I was thinking about all this stuff, you were the number one on my mind. Jimmy will be fine, obviously, and Sam will follow, and be ok. Tracey has a lot of time to adjust, and your mum and Jimmy's mum are old and experienced enough to adapt to the situation. So, because I have a good idea where you are in your life, I made a few enquiries. Sometimes in life, it isn't what you know, but who you know that matters. One of the good friends I made at University is now head buyer for a major clothes retailer, so I spoke to her, and we chatted about some things. One of the things we spoke about was their surplus stock, and if I want, I can buy as much or as little as I want from her, and I can buy them for less than you pay if they've fallen off the back of a lorry: a few pence per item actually, and even if you do a thousand percent mark-up, nobody will be able to match you on price around here. So, you can start your own children's clothes shop. You've got a year to sort everything out, and you can have Paula and your mum with you, if you want. I know you're not a dunce, so I'm sure you can do it. In fact, with all the people around this table rooting for you, you can't fail. Well?" I know I've won when I see the sparkle in her eyes, and she grins at me.
"It sounds brilliant, Rob. What about getting a shop?"
"We'll rent one, or buy one... in a good location. Back street shops never work. This place has a high proportion of poor people living in it, and you've only got to look at Pound Stretchers to see how cheap stuff sells well. When I've been in there, it's always been choc-a-block. Are you up for it? (She nods.) And now will you consider moving? If you're going to be successful and have business people calling to see you, you can't do it from a Social Housing flat."
Pauline's acceptance of the situation, and her own involvement is the straw that breaks the camel's back as far as resistance to my plans are concerned, and when dinner is over and we retire to the lounge and chat about where they'll look for their new homes, she is as enthusiastic as anyone. After a while, Jimmy says he wants to go for a walk.
I look at him. "All of us?"
"No. Just you and me."
I shrug, and look around at the others. Paula is the one who understands. "You two bugger off for a while, and we'll have a go at playing this bloody Wii thing. Come on, Sam, get it working."
In the hall, we put on our coats. It's a bit chilly, so I put a Crombie on, and then wrap my silk scarf around Jimmy's neck, and tuck it into his jacket. As soon as we're outside, he links my arm with both of his, and rests his head against me as we walk. I'm oblivious to everything, now that my lover is so close to me.
After we've walked a short way without saying anything, I ask, "Why the walk?"
Jimmy's arms that are linking to mine, tighten. "Because I love you so much, I wanted to spend some time alone with you. I almost cried when you were talking to Pauline."
"Why?"
"Because you're such a beautiful person. I know she's a pain in the arse, but she's important in the whole scheme of things. You're a bloody saint."
I laugh. "I'm a scheming bloody saint, then. That bird I was telling you about that can supply the stuff? Well, she's the one I had a date with just before you and me got together, and I've got to shag her a dozen times to pay for the cheap clothes."
Jimmy pulls away from me, and gives me a nasty look. I laugh, and pull him back to me. "I'm only kidding. In fact, we're not seeing each other again. I wouldn't have seen her again, anyway, because she sent me a `Dear John' letter."
"What's one of those?"
"Basically, she told me that she doesn't want to see me again, because she's found a bloke she's serious about."
"Has that upset you?"
"No. I'd have had to do it if she hadn't. From now on, there won't be anybody else in my life except you."
"No more women?"
"Nope. It's just you and me, Jimmy. Forever, I hope." The grip around my arm tightens again, and Jimmy's head pushes firmly against my shoulder. It's as good as a passionate kiss. We've sauntered about a mile now, in a long circular route that will lead us back to our home. We have one more street to pass, and then the final long bend that will lead us back to Willow Row. The street we have to pass is the one next to Willow Row, and when we get to it, I remark, "That Ginger who fancies you lives along this street. Shall we knock on his door and have a threesome?"
Jimmy laughs, pushes us into the street, and points out the house that Ginger lives in. He stops, puts his fingers to his lips, gives out a long, piercing whistle that would waken the dead, and then grabs me, and kisses me passionately. We're side on to the house and we both break into hysterics when we see the curtains move. The rest of the walk back to our house is a jazz, and we're still giggling when we join the others.
We go into the kitchen, and Paula is there, cleaning the dining table. She grins. "What have you two been up to, then?"
I look at Jimmy. "We've been to see the Ginger Bread Man, haven't we James?"
Jimmy looks at me, breaks into one of his uncontrollable belly laughs, grabs his crotch, and runs to the bathroom. I'm laughing now, because he'll find a clean pair of Tesco underpants laid out ready for him. I explain to Paula, as best I can, about the in-joke, and about the underpants waiting for him.
Paula is laughing with me now, and then she becomes serious. "He can't help it, Rob."
"Can't help what?"
"Peeing himself."
"Has he been to the doctors about it?"
"No. It didn't start until he was about nine-years-old. It's his lifestyle. (I look puzzled.) You're a clever lad. You'll work it out."
Jimmy comes back. He's grinning from ear to ear. "Nice one, Spencer. I've dropped the others in the wash."
We go back to the lounge and join the others. The phone rings. I look at my watch. Ten-fifteen. Who's ringing at this time? I pick up the phone. It's mum ringing from Monaco. When I've finished talking, I slump back onto the sofa, with tears flowing down my cheeks, and I manage to stumble out the words that dad has died of a heart attack in Monaco, and I have to go to mum. Paula and Debs come and sit each side of me, and put their arms around my shoulders, and hug me, while Jimmy kneels between my legs and sobs into my chest, trying to comfort me. Sam, standing in front of us, has his arms around both Pauline and little Tracey, and they are all in tears.
They all stay over, and, because I can't sleep, Jimmy stays with me on the sofa, hugging me, and crying with me. He's grief stricken because I'm broken-hearted. This is a shared grief born of love. And they all stay with me throughout the following day, until Ahktar takes me to Birmingham International Airport, where I catch the late flight to Nice, and a taxi to my mum. My last words to Jimmy, before I leave, are to ask him where he'll be so I can contact him.
His answer is unambiguous. "I'll be here at our home. Ring me everyday, Rob. I love you. Please take care." He gives me a massive hug, and as the taxi draws away, I watch him go, sobbing, into his mum's arms, and again I break down in tears.
As I sit in the aircraft seat, staring aimlessly out of the window, the thought comes to me that I want to open the door and throw myself out into the void. I can't take much more of this: this love; this grief; this painful life; and I begin to understand exactly what my Jimmy has gone through, and the tears that are seeping from my eyes are as much for him as they are for me.
To be continued...
Other stories on Nifty by J.T.S.Teller: Boys can be lovers, too.