I lost my fedora last night. I think I definitely made an ass of myself. I found out, sort of, that my house-mates are not gay. I think that people around me make a fuss when small things happen to them. I think I don’t fuss enough. Fuck.
First of all, I just want to say I love you. I can think of nothing else to say. I really do love you. I think about you constantly and I can’t get you out of my head.
When I see you I want to cry. I have cried for you. I wish I could see you again. I see you in the backyard; the sun is hours from setting, but the angle is hitting your face in a way that I know you will never wake up. This is a memory of you I will never shake. I will never see you again. I will see you tomorrow.
I wish I could have just one more talk with you. I wanted to play cards with you the night before you left. I wanted to hug you and talk to you about life. I wanted to.
I woke up and there were no missed calls. I woke up to a phone call about you. You were not on the other line. I woke up and there were 4 messages from different members of my family about you. I cried. I could not stop crying. I went to you and told you that I wanted you back but I could not have you. You hurt me. You betrayed me. I betrayed you. I forgave you. I don’t know how you feel about forgiving me.
I wanted to let you know that you were there for me. I want you to know that you were not there for me. I want you to know that I will do things that I see you do. I want you to know I will never do some of the things you have done. I have done things you never will do. I think of you constantly. I think of you more than sex, than money, than my own life. I think you know this. I don’t know where you are. I know you can see me even though you have no eyes. I know you can think of me even though you have no mind. I know you can touch me, yet you have no body.
I trusted you. I grew up with you. I watched you. I made mistakes and you corrected me. You made mistakes and I didn’t say a word. I am a friend. I am a son. I am a lover. I am a fighter. I am a victim. I am a fool.
I got the call and I immediately called my manager. I could not stop sobbing. My roommate was gone at this point. I don’t know what he would have thought of me in this condition. No thought of a one night stand or of a sexual experience could help me out in this moment, I was living it. I was raw with emotion and I could not leave. My sister called me crying and I called my manager. I choked out the words best I could. I said I wouldn’t be in. I had to drive down to La Crosse and go to the hospital. I had to. I was the only one who could comfort the best person I knew.
I sat, for the rest of the day and that night, by his beside. My sister was sleeping on a couch next to me. I slept in a chair. I woke to the sound of weak breathing and machines that keep someone going. I got up and held his hand for the last time. I looked in his eyes and told him I loved him. Then I left.
About an hour later I was in the shower at my mother’s house and I heard a knock on the door. My mom told me he passed and I should go over and be there for my sister’s, grandmother, and father. I thought. I thought, man, he left. I thought I don’t know what I thought. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. This happened last summer, I think about it everyday.