The End Can Be the Start but the Start Can Be the End...

Today I wasn’t in one of my best days, that was for sure. I still couldn’t figure out why I was like this, different, but never had the courage to tell anyone. I felt empty, without a direction and, above it all, alone. I had never found anyone that was like me, and I really didn’t have that many hope left that that would happen. Why? Because I’m abnormal, someone who should never have been born.
I was walking through the school territory, my earplugs on, listening to my favorite song, when I saw I crew of guys surrounding one of my best friends, laughing at something he had said. I walked there, trying to understand what was happening.
- You laugh of me because I’m different, but I laugh of you because you’re all equal – he said, adapting his famous favorite quote by Bob Marley.
- Hey, I’m very pleased of being like all of them; at least, I’m not around sighing for a boy – one of the bullies that surrounded Frank said.
When he said that, Frank had already seen me, and looked at me grievously, seeing I was scared; the only problem is that he didn’t know why I was like that.
I ran out of there, hitting various people in the way. I ran towards a place that Frank had showed me one, knowing that no one, besides him, would find me there. I sat on the floor, my knees resting against my chest, my head low between them, and my arms around my legs.
I was way too confused to stop the tears; I felt them run through my face, washing any trace of happiness that could be found in it. I didn’t understand how he hide so well the fact that he was… gay. I thought for a moment, and the tears stopped falling, despite my face was still wet as when they fell. Although, the tears were replaced with a shaken smile, full of hope.
For him to have looked at me that way, before, only one thing could be going on: he liked me. Realizing that fact made my smile shake even more, me not knowing if I should be happy for making him feel like that, or scared of everything that would happen in school, if it was that way.
I heard something move, close to me, and I lifted my head up, not smiling anymore. What I saw terrified me: Frank was crying, looking at me sadly; he had one black eye, and his lip was bleeding. Seeing him like that was hurting me too much, and I wasn’t able to restrain myself. I got up, not certain of what I was about to do, and walked slowly to him; when I was close enough, I hugged him caringly.
- Everything’s alright, Frank… Calm down – I whispered on his hear, fondly.
- But, Gerard, I’m abnormal… - he replied, crying convulsively onto my shoulder.
- No, you’re not. It’s not your fault; it just happened – I said back, calm.
- It happened? I’m in love with you, for fuck’s sake! – He said, exasperated, but never letting go of me. – How can you be so calm and so close, knowing that?
I didn’t have a coherent answer to that question; it was hard to tell him. So, instead of turning into words something so complicated, I got a bit further from him to look at his face. His beautiful hazel eyes were surrounded by pink, since he had been crying; his long black fringe moved lightly and slowly with the wind that flew by us; his lips formed a perfect straight line, from which I couldn’t take my eyes off.
I looked him in the eyes, again, and realized he didn’t understood what I was doing. In order to clarify him, I leant in slowly, warning him with my eyes. He was frozen, whereby my task was eased, despite all of my jitters. I closed my eyes, and kissed softly his perfect and smooth lips. I didn’t know what else to do and, since he didn’t reply to the kiss, got away. We both stood still in our places, just one fist away from each other, staring at each other’s eyes.
- Gerard, why? – He asked, and I couldn’t quite understand if His soft and captivating voice transmitted happiness or shock; maybe a bit of both.
- Because I like you, Frank. Since we got closer, that I feel something different for you, different than a big friendship. When you’re around, I feel complete, I feel whole again, I feel like there’s no wounds in my heart and in my soul; when you’re in trouble, I wanna save you; when you’re sad, I feel the need to kill whoever hurt you; when you’re far, I just wanna disappear and run away so I can be close to you… - I told him, finally confessing him my love for him.
- Why have you never told me? – He asked, and I could feel his fresh breath hit my dry lips.
- I was afraid you’d get away from me; that you ran away and never came back again – I answered, looking at my feet, so I could hide my sad eyes from him.
Despite of that, he lifted my face, through my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes [not that I was complaining, anyway].
- And you’re not anymore? – He asked, smiling slightly.
- No.
This time, he was the one who kissed me. It started just as a graze between our lips, but both of us were hungry for more; he pulled my face closer to him, grabbing my hair, while I grabbed his waist, in order to glue our bodies. Our lips opened, and his breath got inside my mouth, leaving me thirst; by that time, he was totally tousling my long raven hair, excited by that moment.
Both of us ended the kiss, incapable to breathe properly, but smiling mutually.
- I love you – he whispered, looking deep in my hazel eyes.
- I love you too – I replied, while he caressed my face.
I got my right hand up to his face, touching lightly his cheek; then, I ran it through his fringe, the only bit of fringe that he had, in fact, and noticed that a big amount of his hair had fallen to my hand, and he hadn’t even seen it or felt it. I didn’t say anything about it to him, so I wouldn’t scare him; however, I was curious about another thing.
- How long do you like me? – I asked, smiling mischievously.
- Two years from now… - he answered, doubtful.
- And why have you only told me now? – I questioned him, while grabbing one of his hands.
His reaction surprised; instead of replying, he looked away, turning his face away and biting his lip.
With my free hand, I turned his head in my direction, and saw he was crying, hurt.
- Frank? – I asked, alarmed, but, mostly, worried.
- I only have one week left to live – he replied, hugging me.
- What? – I spoke onto his head, shocked. – One week? Why?
- I… I have ca-cancer…
- Cancer? – Now, I was the one that was crying.
He didn’t answer back; we just stood there, hugging each other, crying at the sound of that new.

That week passed dizzily fast, leaving me a mess. I explained my mom what was happening, and she let me skip school, to stay with Frank at the hospital. He only had one aunt taking care of him, whereby, most of the time, I was the one standing by is said, ‘cause his aunt was way too broken to be always with him; it hurt her really bad to see him in such position. She knew me and him were dating, and never minded with that; in all honesty, she even thanked that fact, since she loved to know her only nephew was beside someone that loved him truthfully.
Every day he had chemotherapy, because the doctors, just like me, wouldn’t give up on him. He was only sixteen [just like me]; he was too young to die. I wouldn’t let him go just like that, even before he lived the best experiences of his life.
He had already handled one more day than predicted, leaving the doctors hopeful.
Once again, he left the chemo, and I was awaiting him in the room. His face was different; he didn’t have that jovial look on his face that he did before. Even his hair had disappeared! His eyes weren’t shining anymore, and his lips were chapped and faded. Despite all that, I still loved him; I didn’t care if he was so weak he could barely stand, I still loved him, because, as much as he had changed on the outside, inside he was still the same boy I had fallen in love with.
The nurse lied him down, and I saw him look at me, sadly.
- Gerard, turn away, please. I’m ugly, hairless, weak… I can’t stand if you see me like this – he said, crying.
I got up and, determined, got closer to him.
- Don’t even think of that possibility; I don’t care about what you look like, because I love you any way – I replied, looking him dead in the eyes.
We kept quiet for a moment, and I saw my reflex on his eyes: my hair was messy, my eyes were stained red, my mouth made an involuntary snoot to the right, due to my sadness. I caressed his fragile face, and felt him get weaker, as he closed his eyes.
- Are you okay? – I asked, nervous; my heart beat like crazy, strongly, as it was anticipating something bad would happen.
- I’m thirsty… Could you get me a drink of water? – He asked, and I gave him the glass immediately; he drank eagerly and gave me the glass right away, resting his face on my hand. – Sorry, I’m just soggy from the chemo…
Suddenly, he started to not be able to breathe, and I was going to call the nurse, when he called me.
- No… I’m so tired of all of this, Gee; let me die, please, have some rest… Come back here – he asked me, and I went, between tears and sobs.
- Call my Aunt Marie; help her gather all my things… Keep whatever you want – he said, weak, and I took the moment he shut up to kiss his forehead, still crying. – And if you say goodbye today, I’d ask you to be true… ‘cause the hardest part of this is leaving you.
I was crying convulsively, but, either way, kissed him on the mouth, just wanting to feel his lips one last time.
When I got away, his life support machine rang his last «beep», killing both of us.