Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2021 23:49:28 +0000
From: entirelyawesome <entirelyawesome@protonmail.com>
Subject: Night Swimming (A Love Story) - Chapter Four

The following is a work of fiction; this story may depict sexual acts
between adolescent boys.  If reading such a story is illegal where you
reside, please leave.  This work of fiction belongs to the author and
should not be re-posted or reproduced without his permission.


Night Swimming (A Love Story) Chapter 4


A few days before school was due to begin again for the fall; I called
Jake to chat with him but got no answer. I tried calling again a bit
later but still only got his voicemail. I left a message and asked him to
call me back then sent him a text. Hours passed and still no call--I
began to get worried. It was unlike Jake to not return my calls. When
evening came I sat at my window seat and watched the pool for any sign of
my beloved boy. I must have fallen asleep because I woke early the
following morning still at the window. He had not returned my call during
the night and deep down in my heart I knew something was wrong. After
waking my mom, I asked her to call some of the local hospitals to see if
we could locate Jake. The very first hospital she called had a patient
with his name. Mom asked the person on the phone to speak with his
parents. After a couple of minutes his mom was on the phone and told us
what had happened. Jake had gone into a coma the previous day and was
still unconscious.

I felt my stomach drop when I heard the news. I begged Mom to take me to
see him. She asked his mother if we could visit him and she said she
would have to speak with her husband. After a several moments, which
seemed more like hours, she said we could. I ran upstairs to wake my
brother and get dressed. We were still putting on clothes in the car as
we sped off to the hospital!

***

At the hospital we met with Jake's family. There were a few aunts,
uncles, cousins, and grandparents in the waiting room. His mom told us
Jake's brain had begun to swell and there wasn't much the doctors could
do for him but wait. I looked at her with tears in my eyes and asked if I
could see him.
She and I walked together down the hospital's corridor to the Intensive
Care Unit where we found Jake with his dad and his sister at his bedside.
His mom said something quietly to them and they left me alone with my
beloved.

I stepped into the little room as the sliding glass doors closed behind
me. He was lying in a hospital bed surrounded by flowers and balloons
that read, "Get Well Soon." I had expected to find him covered in wires
or with a breathing tube in his throat but he was simply lying in bed
wearing a hospital gown with his head tuned slightly in my direction. I
approached the bed on trembling legs and tried to hold back the tears,
but I couldn't. He looked so angelic lying there, as he always does when
his is sleeping. I wanted to climb into bed and lay with him--but
instead, I simply held his hand and I almost expected him to open his
eyes, but he didn't move a muscle. I didn't know what to say to him. I
couldn't understand what this was all about or why this was happening to
him--the person I cared for the most in the entire world! I wanted him to
be well again, to talk to me, to hold me.

I began praying and weeping for him to get better. His mother returned
and found me crying beside her son. I believe, maybe for the first time,
she understood how much Jake meant to me. She put her hand on my shoulder
to comfort me. Before leaving the room, I leaned over and softly kissed
his lips --he still lay motionless. While walking back to the waiting
area, I continued to pray for him.

I haven't spoken to God since.

***

Jake remained in a coma for three days before his brain could no longer
support life. He was put on a respirator on the third day--his family
then had to decide how long they wanted him to live in that condition.
His chances for a meaningful recovery were nonexistent.
They made the decision to disconnect the respirator on the fifth day. I
hated them for that--but at the same time, I gained new respect for them.
They were probably the only other people on the planet who loved Jake as
much as I did and they were willing to let him go. But not me--I wanted
to be with him as long as I could.

The day Jake was to be taken off the respirator, I was allowed to be
alone with him one last time. I was back in the small room watching my
angel breath slowly through a tube connected to the machine on wheels
beside the bed. There were no tears this time. However, I did lie down
with him in the bed and put my head on his chest as I had done many times
during the past year. Laying there listening to his heart beat slowly, I
realized our one-year anniversary together had come and gone unnoticed. I
put my arm over him, held him close, and told him how much I loved
him--my soul was aching to hold on to him. Eventually, I stood, kissed
him on the forehead, and put my fingers through his hair as my mom had
done to me my entire life.

An hour later, Jake was removed from the respirator and died.

***

Jake's funeral was held the following Saturday. My mom suggested I should
go, but I couldn't. It was too soon for me to say goodbye to him. My
emotional state following his death is a little difficult to put into
words. I simply felt--nothing. It was as if I wasn't "real" anymore. I
had expected to feel sad but truthfully, I didn't feel anything. I didn't
cry--and I didn't seem to have much interest in eating or worry about
things like showers or cleaning my room. I would spend hours in bed but
not sleep much. When I did fall asleep I would have bizarre nightmares.

My mother took me to a family counselor after I had spent three entire
days in my room but I didn't have much to say to him. The counselor said
I was suffering from clinical depression following my friend's death and
I wondered how long he had spent in college to learn that.

But he was correct. I was suffering from depression--severe depression.
Without Jake I wanted to die. I even thought about ways I could do it.
Every day was torture for me and I didn't know how much longer I could
bear to live that way. I truly wanted to die!

***

A few days later, while sitting in my room in my half-zombie state, the
urge to have a glass of milk became very strong. It seemed a little
unusual to me because I hadn't had much of an appetite since Jake had
died. Wearing only boxers and a t-shirt, I made my way down stairs,
retrieved a glass from the cupboard then poured some milk from the
fridge. I was standing in the middle of the kitchen holding the glass of
milk when it hit me. I actually hadn't been thinking about anything in
particular at the time, but my hand started shaking and the glass fell to
the floor and shattered.

I started to cry.

I started crying for the first time since Jake had died--and not just
cry, I began sobbing uncontrollably. My mother must have heard me because
she came into the room, moved me away from the broken glass, wrapped her
arms around me, and we sat on the floor as I wept. She rocked me slowly
like she had when I was little and let all of the emotions burst out of
me. My soul was wailing as I cried until my body ached. That night, my
little brother, Carley, curled up beside me in my bed and we slept
together like we used to when we were younger. I slept more deeply than I
had in weeks.

I finally had some peace.

The following morning I awoke with Carley still cuddled next to me. I was
careful not to wake him as I got up and sat at the edge of the bed and
watched him sleep for a while.  He was still a cute, little boy and I
wanted to protect him. I couldn't abandon him like our father had after
the divorce. He needed me and I needed him.

That was the moment I decided not to kill myself.

***

Months passed but I still thought about Jake everyday. He would come to
mind while I was at school, watching YouTube, or when someone mentioned
his name. I would play the song "Nightswimming" for hours and cry for him
as I listened. There were also times when I became angry about losing
him. My life had changed forever and nothing felt the same anymore.

***

Epilogue:

On what would have been Jake's 16th birthday, I visited his grave for the
first time. It was a chilly, gray afternoon and the trees in the cemetery
where already bare. I was alone as I sat on the ground beside the new
headstone. All was quiet around me when I started speaking to him with my
soul. As strange as it may sound, I believed I could "feel" his presence.
I knew, wherever he was, he could hear me. That thought made me smile as
I often do these days when I remember the good times he and I shared
together.

I had brought along the simple, little poem I had written for him for his
previous birthday and read it aloud:

I love you and you love me,
Seven simply words that make us "we."

You came into my life quite unexpectedly,
And our love for me remains a mystery.

Together we laugh, love, and cry,
Our bond is so strong it will never die.

I'm as happy as I'll ever be,
Because I love you--and you love me.

The End

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