How Wrong We Were to Think That Immortality Meant Never Dying.

We met at the funeral. The endless line of sobbing people in different shades of blacks, me with my tearful brother, and he with his friend. That's when we met. I'm not quite fond of funerals, to be honest. Seeing Mikey break down was hard, but keeping strong myself was even harder. Frank let me cry on his shoulder. I didn't know why I had never met Mikey's friend before, and I didn't really think twice about it until after the funeral. I soon learned that not only was this man, a smart strong man, a teacher, who had taught me many years of my life, a friend of my mothers, but he was also my little brother's best friend's father. And yet some how, his boy, not much younger than I, didn't cry like I did. He grabbed my hand and let me cry on his shoulder, for reasons even I didn't see. And then I never saw the boy again, for many years. I didn't even get to tell him my name.

I sat in my english classroom, reading a novel by Stephen King. The funeral was the summer before freshman year, and it's now the first semester of my junior year. Mikey mentions Frank every now and then, but not so often enough to catch my attention. For all Mikey knows, I'm attracted to girls and that's all I've ever been. I don't mean to keep things from him, we don't talk as often as I'd like, he's just so upset all the time and it brings me down. I think about Frank a lot. We may have had met once, but he left a lasting impression on me. I looked up from my book as students started filling into the classroom. Lunch was over. English is the only class I enjoy, and the only class I have with my brother. I sit in the back corner, and it's really the only time I get to talk to Mikey. Mikey has his friends, and I have my books. But Mikey wasn't alone as he entered the classroom.

I don't know if it was pure coincedence or if there is such thing as "luck" but there he was. I recognised him immediately, his long black hair hadn't changed over the past couple of years, and he hadn't gotten much taller. His face had matured into a manly attraction, but he still had the same looks, the same strong boy from some few years ago. The way he walked aroused me and I continued to sit in the corner awkwardly. It was a few weeks into school, what was he doing here now, I didn't know, and frankly, I didn't care. All I wanted was to hold his hand like before, him to comfort me from the cruelties this world lays upon me. I wanted to kiss him, to hold him, make love to him. This was the time I was sure I was gay, and didn't want anyone other than him.

But I realize, I'm just an awkward junior. An immature friendless kid. What are the chances Frank would ever even like me, let alone guys in general? He never spoke more then four words to me, and those four words were "It will be okay." What are the chances he even recognizes me? That's everything that went through my head as Mikey sat down beside me, Frank in front. He turned around, faced me. But he didn't say anything. He just looked at me for a second, then turned to Mikey. I sighed and returned to my book, ignoring the fact that just his face had the power to turn me on. I knew I was a mess for this guy, how it is possible I have no idea. That's when he said it.

"Gerard, right? I'm Mikey's friend...we met at the funeral."