Before I Break (24 page)

“Avery Branson was one of the first people I met this year,” I said, hoping they couldn’t hear the crack in my voice. My arms shook at my sides as I said, “He was a great friend, and I’ll be the first to admit I was not always the best of friends. When I first learned that he was gay, I hated him. But over time I began to have a change of heart.

“You see, love is something that many of us feel on a day to day basis, but Avery? He
was
love. He had his angry moments, but most of the time you could feel the brightness radiating from him. I feel like many of you didn’t give him the chance he deserved, but that’s okay, because knowing Avery, he doesn’t hate any of you. I highly doubt he even hates the one who did this, even though most of us do.”

Right then the tears fell hard and I sobbed so loud I thought I was going to die. The pain was just too much, but I had to remind myself of what he would have wanted.

“I loved him,” I said, saying those words for the first time. “I’ll admit that, while 100% straight, I loved him and still do. He was the best person I had ever met and I am not afraid to admit that for a time, I thought I cared for him more than a friend.”

In the crowd, his Aunt Denise nodded knowingly.

“I kissed him. I had to make sure that I didn’t feel anything for him more than a friend, and while I didn’t, I know anyone would have been lucky to have him. He changed my life in so many way that most of you won’t ever understand. He made me who I am today and I wanted to say one last word to Avery.”

His ashes sat on a table in the back and I walked over to it, crying so hard now, my words were muffled as I said, “I love you and I hope you knew how much I cared for you before you died. I miss you so much and I just wanted to thank you accepting me for who I was.” I got on my knees, feeling so much sorrow come over me. “You taught me that this world is not about gay people being accepted by us, but rather us being accepted by you.” Right as I spoke, I knew it was true. When I finished, I went back to my seat to listen to the rest of the people say what they had to say, though none of them seemed like they wanted to say much after me.

That day we all mourned Avery. It wasn’t until that day that I realized everything was going to be okay.

I
was going to be okay.

And from that moment on, I decided to live my life the way Avery would have wanted me to.

Pulling into our brand new house, I knew that this was going to be the beginning of my new future with Jessica. We smiled at each other as we opened the door to the car and walked inside.

The house was fairly nice, and as we carried boxes in, all I could do was wonder how my life had gotten this good. Eleven years ago I would have told people that they were crazy if they said that my life was going to be something every person could want. Looking back now, I realized how unimportant the “important” things were, and how important to “unimportant” things were.

Later that night, when we were all settled in and the kids, Max and Ethan, were getting ready to go to sleep, Jessica called for me into the room.

“Yes babe?” I said.

“I think we forgot a box,” she said, and from behind her she handed me the little box that I had been trying to hide from her since we got together.

“That’s not—”

“What is it?” she asked, then handed it to me. “Open it.”

Even though I didn’t want to, I knew she really wanted to know what was inside. It was something I pushed aside for so long, and now I finally had to face it. Opening the box, I pulled out the picture in the frame.

After staring at it for a moment, she stared at me. “Is that…him?”

I nodded, and for some reason unknown, tears tickled my eyes. “The one and only.”

Right then, Max and Ethan ran into the room. Both boys sat on the bed, smiling and giggling. “What’s that, daddy?” Max asked me.

Knowing this time would come, I said, “Follow me guys. I need to tell you something.”

So my sons and my wife followed me into the living room, where I placed the picture on the wall right above the fireplace. Jessica looked no longer confused, but happy with me, and gave me the hug she knew that I needed.

“Who is that?” Ethan asked.

I smiled and sat both of the boys on the couch. Ethan, the oldest, was eight, and Max was seven. Now was a good time as ever to tell them what happened.

“That boy right there,” I said, pointing to the picture, “was my best friend. His name was Avery.”

“He sounds really nice,” Ethan said, smiling.

“Yes, son, he sure was.” Jessica smiled at me, reminding me that now was probably the right time to tell them the truth.

“Now, let me tell you guys a story,” I told them and sat on the couch. So I told them everything that I remembered about that year, everything that my little brain could possibly have held. By the end, both of my sons had tears in their eyes. Jessica left the room for a moment and came back with the box in her hand again. After I finished the story, she handed me a sheet of paper.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Remember when you started writing? Well, I think this is the page that started it all.”

Sure enough, when I unfolded it, it was the same piece of paper that I used in the hospital to start writing my memoir.

“You know,” Jessica said. “I think it would be a good time to finally start working on that book you’ve wanted to write.”

Right then I knew she was serious and I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

“I guess I have some writing to do now, don’t I?”

Glancing at the picture on the wall and then looking at my life now, I really can’t help but smile.

Before I break,

You’ll catch my fall,

I know you’ll be there through it all.

Once I fall,

I know you’re there

To be there when life is completely unfair.

If I die

Before my time

Please don’t ever tell my story as lies.

Before I break,

Once I fall,

If I die,

You’re here for it all.

Best friend

I must say, thank you for the time

And just know that I’ll be there

Until the very end of time.

It may be right here

Or it may be in my heart

But I promise I’ll be there

Until death do us part.

NOVEMBER 28TH

Do you ever feel like something really bad is coming your way but have no reasonable explanation for the feeling? That’s happening to me now as I begin this journal. I’ve always considered myself a writer, but I’m not usually one to write about my feeling unless it’s through poetry. Right now, though, I feel like I really need to get some things out.

Today, my theatre class is beginning its first major production of the year, and Mrs. Burley asked me if I would write the screenplay. We were sitting in her office when she asked me and my heart nearly exploded out of my chest with anxiety.

“Really?” I asked. “Are you sure you want me to do it?”

Mrs. Burley nodded. “I think you would be a great fit for the job. I’ve read your poetry, which I think is absolutely beautiful, so I know you can do it. Are you in?”

Of course I said yes, but now I feel like it might have been a mistake. How am I supposed to come up with a completely original idea by the end of December? Assuming that’s even possible for a writer. Sitting here writing seemed like a good way to get the energy flowing, but there is only one thing on my mind.

Devon.

Devon is not only the director of the play; he is also extremely attractive, with his dark, luscious hair, and those gorgeous brown eyes. The only thing that seems to be a problem is that I’m unsure of whether he’s gay or not. Honestly, I’m not even sure if he knows that I am. I’m not really hiding in the closet but I also only mention it if someone asks, which he hasn’t. And because he’s the director, I have to work with him more than anyone else after I write the play to make sure he’s depicting it properly.

Now what am I going to do?

DECEMBER 1ST

A few days have gone by and I still have no idea what to do for the play. Devon asked me what the concept was and I nearly fell over with embarrassment. What the hell was I supposed to tell him?

We had been sitting in class when he came up and sat beside me. He was wearing a light blue polo shirt khaki pants, looking as cute as ever. When he asked for the concept, I stammered an answer.

“I, um…I-I haven’t really figured that out yet. I’ll have it by the end of the week.”

He smiled and patted my shoulder encouragingly. “Good job, man; I’ll see you later then?”

I said nothing while he went to sit with the class as they did breathing exercises. Why was I the one chosen for this? I guess it could have been worse, like being stage manager, because I’d probably break something important. Now the whole class is counting on me and I can’t let any of them down.

Especially Devon.

DECEMBER 2ND

Believe me when I say that writing a play is not an ideal practice. I think on Monday I need to let Mrs. Burley that I’m not ready for the job.

DECEMBER 3RD

So the strangest thing happened to me today—I was sitting in my room when my cell phone began to ring.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey, is this Avery?” It was Devon. What on earth was he calling me for?

“Oh, um…hi,” I replied. “It’s nice to hear from you, but how the hell did you get my number?”

There was a moment of silence of the other end of the phone before Devon said, “I got your number from Facebook. For future reference, it’s not always a good idea to leave your number online for the world to see.”

“Thanks mom. Were you calling to lecture me on internet safety or did you actually have something important to say?” I didn’t mean to sound rude, but that was sort of how it came out.

“No, I was actually wondering if you wanted to sit with me at lunch tomorrow so we could bounce off ideas for the play. Unless you already have an idea ready?”

Devon was actually asking me to have lunch with him tomorrow? I wondered if maybe it was just an excuse to be able to talk to me. “Honestly, I’ve got nothing right now. My brain’s been a little foggy lately and having the power of writing an entire play for our class is stressful. It’d be nice to sit down with someone and discuss ideas.”

“Awesome,” he replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

My heart feels so fluttery right now. Is that a good thing? Maybe this is a sign that Devon likes me, and if he does, I may finally have a boyfriend. After years of having nobody close in my life, I think I deserve some bit of happiness.

DECEMBER 4TH

Today was a pretty interesting day to say the least.

When the day started, I was super excited to be able to sit with Devon at lunch to discuss play ideas, and I couldn’t help but take it as a hint of affection. The entire day I was scribbling love poetry and was feeling quite corny afterwards.

Lunch arrived quickly and I ran into my friend Klara along the way. She has brown hair and brown eyes, and wears lots of makeup, despite me telling her that she doesn’t need to because she was naturally beautiful. I guess a compliment like that means nothing coming from a gay guy.