Speechless

A muffled crying sound swam through the air towards my ear drums as Brendon and I kissed. Brendon heard it, too. He let go of me to face his now weeping mother. I couldn’t tell if she was upset that Brendon was gay and she’s overly religious or if she was happy for us and thought it was romantic as fuck. Which, honestly, it was.

“I’m going to bed,” she barely managed to get out through her cries. They were definitely not happy. I looked up at Brendon. Tears were welling up in his eyes as I pulled him in for a meaningful hug.

“You want to watch the finale?” he asked me. A small curve curled itself upon my lips as my head bobbed up and down in an exaggerated way. “Okay, here goes nothing,” he said. He lit the firework, just barely escaping in time to watch the amazing display of colors and sparks flying across the yard.

“This is the best night of my life,” I said. Honestly, it’s true. Everything I remember about my past involves loneliness, pain, and boredom. Now I had Brendon, for real. Before, I thought we were just friends, you know? But I guess we both hinted towards things that went further than that. Without realizing it, something more grew out of it, and so quickly, too. In just a short week we went from new neighbors, to well, whatever we are now.

He pecked me on the lips, and went in for a real kiss. That amazing, softness returned to me. Everything felt perfect when I was in his arms. After about 10 seconds, though, I decided we should probably clean up shop and talk to his mom, though it was extremely hard to pull myself away from such a lust as this.

“Brendon…” I said.

“I love the sound of your voice, Ry.”

I couldn’t help but smile again. “You know, we should probably clean this up and well… talk to your mom, or something.”

“Ugh…” he groaned, but didn’t disagree. Together we made sure each firework was completely put out and safe for disposal. Once the yard was clean again, we headed inside to confront the monster of a problem we started.

“Mom?” Brendon called out as we entered through the back door. I could once again hear the quiet cries. “Mom, please,” he started at her, pleading for her forgiveness. You could see it in her face that she wasn’t ready to accept it.

“You’re not my son,” was all she said. I saw tears falling from Brendon’s face, one by one onto the beige carpet of the living room floor. “Just go.”

I tugged on Brendon’s arm, motioning him to come upstairs to his room with me. After a few minutes of standing in the awkward atmosphere that was Brendon’s mother, he finally let me drag him away.

“Brendon, she’s just shocked right now, stop this, please,” I begged. Brendon was losing his mind. “Let it sink in, just give it a moment, will you?”

“Ryan! She fucking disowned me right there because I was happy. BECAUSE I WAS FINALLY HAPPY.”

“What do you mean, finally?” I asked. Brendon was always happy. And I mean always. I couldn’t really comprehend what he was talking about when he said “finally.” To me, Brendon was the cheerful, happy-go-lucky one, and I was the depressed, lonely one.

“Never mind, I’m going to bed.”

I bit my lip, trying to think of things to say, but my brain had all but failed me. “Okay. I’ll be next door if you need me.” I began to walk out of his room, expecting him to stop me, but he didn’t. “You know, you’re always welcome to stay at my house, you know, since my dad is gone and all.”

I stopped my movement, hoping he’d follow me, or just do something. But nothing happened. He sat on his bed, pouting and sulking in his own misery. Honestly, at that moment, there was nothing I could do to help him, other than get him away from his mom, but he wouldn’t budge. So, I left without another word. The pain of rejection filled each footstep as I slowly walked down the stairs and out the front door.

As I opened the door, his mom began to speak to me, again.

“What the hell did you do to that… that…”

“Your son,” I finished for her.

“What did you do?”

I shrugged my shoulders, and slammed the door shut. That woman had problems. Our fucking society had problems. So we were happy for a split second, and then the world is just going to crash down on us and say we can’t have that? Well fuck my life, then.

It was a long and painful walk back to my own home. The emptiness of the house filled my lungs with loneliness. I sighed a heavy, grief-filled sigh as I walked through the living room and up the stairs. My room. A place that held so much excitement for me this morning, yet so much sorrow when I returned. I felt trapped and alone, unable to find a way out.

Without changing into pajamas or brushing my teeth, I just slipped under the covers and curled up in the bed, waiting to fall asleep. Hours passed, one by one, and sleep never sank in. My mind was consumed in thoughts of Brendon crying, alone, like I was. My pillow was stained with blackish eyeliner, and so was my face. All because one woman couldn’t keep her opinion to herself.