Sunspots and Raindrops

____________________________________________________

“Ladies and gentleman, I give you the class of 2005.”

Applause filled the gymnasium as the graduates all pulled their tassels to the right simultaneously. Music started blaring over the loudspeakers in the gymnasium and each row of students started filing out two or three at a time. I was on my feet, applauding, before anyone else even thought to stand.

Brendon’s eyes found me and he winked. I was so glad he couldn’t see the tears that lined my eyes from where he was.

A reception followed the ceremony outside in front of the school. It was a chance for everyone to congratulate everyone. A chance for every family member to get a hug in before everyone returned to their homes for individual receptions.

There was an after party for graduates only later that night, but Brendon was hesitant about going. Brendon and I had deserted the ceremony in front of the school to take a walk together around the block.

He was still in his graduation gown and his cap was dangling in my right hand. He had his left arm around my shoulders and I had grabbed his hand with mine. My other hand fiddled with the material that lined the cheap cardboard cap. I wondered what Brendon would do with his cap and gown now that graduation was over.

I wondered what I would do with mine after I graduated, vaguely. I was definitely one for nostalgia, but I expected I wouldn’t want to remember graduating without Brendon in the audience applauding for me as I had for him.

“What’s going to happen when you’re rich and famous?” I ask randomly as we strolled. I realized that we weren’t on the same block as the school anymore, but neither of us cared. I had my cell phone in case my mom needed me, but I doubted she would. She was probably back home entertaining all of her friends. The friends that knew my dad and nothing of Thomas.

Brendon’s mother and my mother had become very close over the last seven months and my mother had agreed to help throw Brendon a graduation party. There were white tents set up in the front and back yards with huge tables lined with food of every variety. They reminded me of buffet lines.

Brendon and I had spent the majority of his party hugging each time we could manage it and if we could get away with it, assaulting each other behind closed doors for a few minutes at a time.

It had been light and fun and unexpected each time which added to the enjoyment of it all, but I think Brendon knew as well as I did that we were trying to make up for what we knew was going to be a long road ahead.

Brendon smiled beside me. “I’m going to buy a great big house in the Hollywood Hills where we can live together!”

I leaned into him, pressing my elbow to his ribs jokingly. “Can I have my own room reserved for me to sleep in when I’m mad at you?” I asked as a jest.

“You can have a different bedroom for each season.” He responded instantly. “Whatever you want, it’ll be yours.”

“Can I have a car?”

“You can have your own dealership.”

“What about a boat?”

“I’ll buy you your own lake to go with it.”

“A condo on the moon?”

“The entire universe would be yours.”

“Can I have you?”

That caught him off guard and the laughter drained from his face slightly. He fought to bring the levity back to his features, but I could tell he was just as worried about the future as I was.

He played it off well, however. “I’m already yours.” He pressed his lips to my temple, letting them linger there for a few steps.

A relaxed silence engulfed us and we continued to walk along, paying attention to nothing aside from each other’s presence, the sound of our synchronized breathing, and whatever thoughts were passing through our heads.

It was after a quiet couple of blocks that we both realized where we were simultaneously.

We were on our usual route home. The route we walked to school the first time we spoke to each other. The route we took home so many times from school when I didn’t have a car. And now, it was the route we were taking for the last time. Next year, when I was a senior, I would have to make the trek to the school alone. I would have Charlie there to keep me company, I kept in mind, and she and I had become as thick as thieves.

In fact, the only person I knew I was closer to was Brendon and it hardly counted since he was my boyfriend.

Bros before hoes, we always told each other jokingly.

Each time I’d used that line on him, he’d tried to insist that my argument was invalid on the grounds that Charlie was not a “bro”. Each time he said this, my response would be the same: “Her name is Charlie.”

I was never upset when Brendon said he had band practice and would have to skip out on hanging out with me. Because of all the things Brendon Urie was good at, Brendon Urie was number one making it up to you.

He’d missed Valentine’s Day because he was practicing a new song that the band was putting together. To compensate, he took me out to dinner at a restaurant of my choice, a movie of my choice, and to end the date, we watched the sun set over the late winter desert from a plateau in the western Vegas wastelands.

He’d told me how many times he’d escaped to that very spot. He’d told me how he loved the transition between the light of the setting sun to the bright glowing neon lights from the Vegas strip behind us.

“I always use to compare you to the sun,” I’d said then. “How warm you are, both figuratively and literally, and how everything is better when you’re around; how you’re just necessary.”

That had made Brendon smile. “What would that make you?” Brendon inquired as we sat on the trunk of his car, leaning against the back window. “Windy since you’re from Chicago?” Brendon and I both laughed but he shook his head, continuing to think. “That would make you a raindrop.”

“A raindrop?” I’d wondered.

“Yeah,” He smiled at me. “Because as much as everyone may love the sun, everyone loves the rain more. Relieving, cool, soothing; you’re exactly what everyone needs in life.”

I thought for a short moment. “Sunspots and raindrops.” I thought aloud, liking the sound of it. “Will we ever not have nicknames for each other?”

“Nope.” Brendon answered me with a kiss.

That Valentine’s Day felt like a million years ago during that sunny May afternoon.

We finally arrived back at our houses and we were welcomed by a warm applause. Everyone congratulated Brendon on his graduation and I stood by, smiling at him as people hugged him and shook his hand and patted him on the back one after another.

Each time he could, he would look at me and smile knowingly.

Hardly any of the “I love you”s being said meant the same as when they were said between us.

____________________________________________________

The day was finally here. That six thousand pound elephant that had been trying to fit itself into every room since late September had finally broken free and when I had gotten into the car to drive to the airport with Brendon and his family, it was hard not to notice the dense and unmistakable discomfort in the air.

Brendon had my hand in his the moment I was in the car and he refused to let it go.

His parents chose not to go all the way to the gate with him and bid him a safe trip and good luck by the ticket counters. There were tears, of course, and I was happy to see the happiness there. Brendon had told me on multiple occasions how stressed his home life was and how excited he was to graduate and be gone. It was relieving to see that, after all of that trouble, there was still a very substantial amount of love in the family.

I got a security pass and continued with Brendon, who had once again grasped my hand tightly. When we got to security at the airport, he almost pulled me through the metal detector along with him before the airport personnel reminded him that we each had to go through one at a time.

He stepped through, retrieved his belongings from the x-ray conveyor belt, put on his shoes, and then turned and waited for me to do the same before grabbing my hand again and pulling me close to his side.

We could see their gate at the end of the terminal and it was like walking toward a guillotine. I couldn’t imagine a life without Brendon, despite the fact that I knew he’d only be gone for a few weeks, maybe a month or two at the most.

I realized that a guillotine was exactly what this plane was. It was ruthlessly cutting off a vital part of my existence.

Ryan, Spencer and Brent were all waiting by the gate by the time we joined them. We sat in the uncomfortable black leather chairs in the waiting area by the counter and and waited. I could see the excitement bouncing between the four band members. This was everything they had ever dreamed of and it was finally happening. I could tell they didn’t know what to do with themselves. Ryan had books, but he wasn’t reading them. Spencer had an iPod, but the earbuds stayed wrapped up in his pocket. Brent had brought along a neck pillow, but wasn’t looking tired in the slightest.

And Brendon, well, Brendon had me. But his eyes stayed glued to the floor.

The boarding call was announced and the boys all shot from their seats.

Hugs were given all around. Brent was first, being as he barely knew me, and wanted to get his out of the way so that he could board the plane.

Spencer was next and he promised to send postcards from Maryland.

Then it was Ryan’s turn. He wrapped his arms around me and then stood up, causing my feet to dangle as I squeezed my arms around his neck and laughed. He told me how he’d miss me and how he’d call when he got the chance and would write on every single postcard that Spencer purchased.

That was enough to get the tears worked up.

And finally, I turned to see Brendon standing there. His brown eyes were filled to the brim and a few tears and already spilled over. The sight made my stomach clench, my throat constrict, and I practically tackled him to the ground.

No matter how hard I squeezed or how close our bodies were during that embrace, I wished to be closer and stay that way. I would’ve traded anything in that moment to go with him. But we’d talked about me going with him before. It was his first choice, obviously, but I couldn’t drop out of school. Not only that, I knew I couldn’t leave my mom alone in Las Vegas for weeks or maybe months. We hadn’t even lived here a full year yet and she wasn’t stable enough to be alone for that long yet.

I tried to stay in the moment, though.

“Brendon,” I gasped as I clawed a fistful of his shirt as my tears trickled down my cheeks. “Brendon, don’t leave me.”

I dreaded the sound of the choked sob that broke through Brendon’s restraints. His arms squeezed around my waist, his hands desperately trying to memorize my form. His hands were in my hand and then my back and sides and then my arms and then my hair again.

It was too soon for him to be pulling away from the hug, but I realized they had just given the second general boarding call and there were only about five people left outside of the gate.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Brendon ensured, holding my face in his hands and catching every tear with his thumb, trying to smile. “I promise I will be.”

He kissed me and it was like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I was taken back to that first kiss in the grass at Harvey’s party back in early September. I could remember how drunk I was and how perfect everything had turned out. I could remember the dark bottomlessness in Brendon’s eyes when he’d told me how long he’d wanted to kiss me.

And now everything had come full circle. He’d wanted to badly to kiss me and now I wanted him so badly to never stop kissing me. My hands made their way to his hair and his arms constricted so that I was pressed flat against him and he lifted me off of the floor. The tears had stopped; it was only raw emotion then.

The final boarding call was given and finally, all too soon, Brendon broke away from me.

“I love you, Sundance.” He whispered as he leaned his head against mine and I coughed out a laugh at the nickname. I could remember so many months ago when we first made the nicknames for each other.

“I love you too, Bren.” I say back.

He lifted my chin and met my eyes. “I love you more.”

He kissed me one more time, this time gently like an illusion of a kiss that was missing a part that needed to be hunted for and found, before picking up his carry-ons and walking toward the door with his boarding pass. I stood in the waiting area and watched as he disappeared and the slammed the door closed behind him before darting to the window.

Tears continued to slowly flow down my face as I watched the plane taxi out to the runway and take off into the clear blue sky. I watched it until it looped east and disappeared from view. And then, at last, I turned and walked back toward the security checkpoint and finally, walked out to the exit of the airport.

My mom was waiting for me with open arms and I almost started crying again when she hugged me.

“He’ll be back, Sonny Mae,” She spoke softly. “Don’t you worry about that.”

And I knew he would be.

“The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.” This is a quote from Charles Dickens.