As They Say

by D K Daniels

Entry 40

Unconditional Love

16th July 1991

The boys got together today. I think it was more in celebration as to say goodbye to Ross. I consider it a nice gesture. Only when I turned up to the meeting, it depressed me to the core. The truth that we were all gathered around for the sake of Ross like it were the last supper made me weary and irritated for a bit. I expected it would be easy to say goodbye to Ross; now that I reflect on that, my mind must've been having a massive brain dump. While we were all sitting around conversating and enjoying each other's company, there was this ominous aura lingering in the air. It was like a thick sad depression was raining over the whole lot of us, only nobody bothered to speak up about it.

I presume everyone was trying to remain light about the time Ross has left spend with us, knowing full well his departure date is incredibly close. I felt like my heart was out of whack. I mean I didn't feel obnoxiously happy the way I usually do or the lovey-dovey butterfly feelings which brood in my stomach happens to be there all the time. Instead, all the splendid feelings were replaced with loneliness which presented itself shortly after breakfast.

When I first met Ross, I didn't consider he would turn out to mean this much to me. Now when I'm on the verge of losing him, it feels like... I don't know what I feel like. I appear wrong or off. It's like something is drilling outward from the centre of my chest. The eating me alive feeling does feel like a pang of guilt. Only I have nothing to seem resentful for. I've done everything by the book. I did what my parents asked, I got to know Ross and I'd never changed up for the world. I recollect when I first wandered down the stairs in the morning, and Ross was sitting at the kitchen table that I was so incredibly embarrassed that I wanted to crawl up into a ball and die. Presently, I take all that back. If wishes came true, I'd love to be able to go up to my bedroom only to be followed a couple of hours later with a dismal torrential downpour; where the Wilson's arrive home late with their unknown grandson.

Everything resembles so fresh in perspective. Has it been that long ago we first met, it merely feels like yesterday? Remember all those times I used to be scared shirtless that Ross would find out my deep dark secret. Or when the first morning I knocked for him and how astonishingly cute he looked. This heaviness in my chest, I don't want it to be there. I know it's because Ross is going. I wish he wasn't going and we could possess added time to chat about things and learn several of each other's uncanny abilities further. I'll never understand why I found it so hard in the first place when Ross came around. I mean, of course. I was perplexed; I was even questioning how big he was down there. Know that I have seen it, I don't believe it matters all that much to me. My heart is in the equation; not my preferences.

Sigh… Nevertheless, nothing significant was done today. Everyone was on a bit of a downer. I tried to save the life of the group, to keep it intact for as long as possible, only it's tough to do that when everyone is reflecting and contemplating the same thing. I'm taking a day out tomorrow away from everybody. I'm going to take us down to the castle one last time. It eerie staring at the words on the page. One Last Time. I've no idea why except the words appear to hold added sentimental value than I first thought. It's what I'd envision getting stabbed would feel like. And then once the lunatic has plunged his blade into your hip, he'd start whisking it back and forth, widening the gap in your flesh, instantly killing you. Is it a crime that I want to be with Ross for the last day? I hold nothing special; I want to be in his company. I don't require anything more from him, just his time. After all, our time is cutting thin. Tomorrow there will only be one day in between when Ross leaves. I'm not sure if this is the last time I'll ever see him, I hope not because I'm going to work so goddamn hard so that I can visit him. I don't want the last time I see him, to be me waving at the back of the car window as he drives off down the long stretch of deserted back country road.

Anyhow, I should turn in for tonight. Perhaps in the morning, I will feel a little better and the odd feeling that I'm experiencing at the moment should be liberated. Oh, and one more thing. I'm just writing it in here so that I will remind myself to tell my mam to get me a new journal. This one is coming to the end of the book, and I feel like writing my daily thoughts down has become an integral part of my day. I try hard not to miss any days if I can help it. Therefore, if I miss a day or two because I didn't tell her to get me a new notepad, then I'll be a little bit disappointed in myself for not keeping up the consistency. Anyway night – Adam.

17th July 1991

Today turned out terrible. I'm practically shaking what I had to endure. I have no idea what I'm going to do; I'm fucked. I'll explain it all give me a minute... Sigh… I persist inhaling and exhaling erratically, and all I can keep thinking is that my life as I know it is over. Right, start from the beginning. I need to make sense of what I'm rambling on about again.

I woke a little later than usual this morning. It surprised me considering that I was up early nearly every other morning just to spend time at Ross. Despite, a sleep-in randomly chose to present itself on the last proper day I'd have what Ross. The sleeping late is not what has me completely anxious and on the verge of pulling my hair out. I keep wrapping the fringe of my hair around my index finger as I write this. And all I can do is shake and brood at how disgusting I am.

I promised myself last night that I would take Ross to see the castle one last time. Moreover, I did. After breakfast, I went and got him. Ross was all beautifully dressed and on point. His hair was freshly styled and the clothes that he was wearing, I had never seen them before.

The clothes were dressy, a nice casual shirt and a pair of jeans. I've never seen Ross wear jeans and I have to say they look good on him. Anyway, as I was saying, we went to the castle. When I told Ross about it, he was all for it, and he was excited and cute.

During the bike ride, all I could do was glance over at him for the majority of the journey. I'm in shock as to how I didn't wheel myself into a pothole and cycle off into a ditch because Ross is such a distraction. I responded a lot better when I woke up this morning. There was playful energy in the air when I woke up, and I felt hopeful that whatever it was would make today a good last day. For a tad bit of the cycling, we didn't talk all that much because we knew what was both on our minds. Nonetheless, I broke the ice about halfway into the journey and then the conversation came flooding back. It was good to have that tender gossip with Ross and any time I asked a question; I'd listen intently to what Ross had to say. Ross could talk about shit, and I still find it interesting. I didn't desire to miss a syllable that left his mouth.

After a little bit, we reached the castle. Ditching our bikes on the grassy area, we took a stroll down toward the lake. Sitting down, we enjoyed each other's company for about an hour so. Even if we were not talking the act of relaxing there with the one you love is all that you need. Well to me at least anyhow, I sensed a spirit of relief and contentment lounging around on the grass until the both of us lay down and glanced up at the sky. It was a bright, vibrant blue, reaments of frail clouds appeared ghostly in the air. The sun on our faces was gorgeous and every bit as pleasing as spending time with each other. All I could do was gaze up at the vastness and imagine that there is an entirely different world out there. A discussion of other planets possibly being out there come to; not that I'm a science geek or anything. The idea came up, so I decided to go at it. I found out that Ross thinks that there is alien life someplace in the far depths of space out of reach concerning humans. For a while, I contemplated it, and I decided to believe it myself. You can't deny something you haven't seen, and you can't rationalise what doesn't exist. Therefore that means you have to think of it as a story. It's a fascinating concept, and if there are things out there, then I wouldn't be surprised because almost anything that has been made into a story winds up being right.

While I was pointing out where I thought the aliens would live in a general direction the two of us got a bit giddy, and the conversation got from serious to light. I discovered that Ross and I have the same sized hands.

I have heard that most couples do either have a person with smaller hands and the other with slightly larger hands. Except if you would acknowledge Ross and me as a couple then I guess you could say that we are the first boyfriends to have the same sized hands.

As I was reaching up; striving to touch our solar system, Ross stretched up and grabbed hold of my hand, declaring that he wanted to see if our hands were the same size. When we clasped our hands together, the moment seemed crucial, so I calmed down and tried to regain a stance of seriousness. A second later Ross interlocked his hand with mine, and the both of us lay back down and looked up at the opaque clouds. Lowering our hands in the gap separating us we sighed in satisfaction before I shimmied in close that there the break between us was closed. Lazing about Ross got chatting about how he would miss the castle, and that made me a little sad. I wasn't inherently sad. I was still happy but something about when he said that made me feel like I was missing something even though everything was still present. There was a careless valiantly to our bonding that made our friendship for each other stay on track. It's hard to describe the indescribable sensation of what love is. Solely I know is that whatever it is I know I'm a better person whenever it is present. If that means I'm happier, more outstanding and caring because of this beautiful individual, then that would be all I would need to live a life of complete fulfilment.

Comprehending Ross, however, he has that playful mystic demeanour to his character. He turns our little escapades into playtime. I know it sounds weird when I write it down here or say it out loud, that I like it. It's fun, not because the act itself is fun but the experience I retain from it. Ross became a little sexually submissive; he had this puppy like appeal to him. I could tell that he was horny by the way that he would squirm back and forth pretending to be giddy, save all along he was trying to control his horniness. There was a brazen act made apparent today, and for the first time, we spoke about what we wanted to do. I assume it can be considered as a significant leap in our relationship because we never before acknowledged what we were doing. So, we began to make out. There was this passion that I don't quite know how to write of… Only all I know is that whatever was going on made me feel jittery. I exhibited everything anew, all over again. The little feeling that I had before we got this far had resurfaced.

Amidst the kissing and light grinding against each other, I stopped and examined his eyes. I happened to be on top of him, and the two of us were sorta tangled together. I could feel his rigid thickness poking into my thigh. Like that, I broke the kiss and suggested, "can we do what we did... like the other times."

Ross pondered a moment and then let out a juvenile snigger and then said suggestively, "yeah…"

Ross and I discussed for a second, and we concluded that we had to head home to do it. Figuring my dad and mam where out doing their daily work around town. All along as we cycle together, we kept peering back over at one another, deliberately. There was a pace the cycle to which suggested that we wanted to get there a lot quicker than we could cycle. Ultimately, we joined the end of my driveway. Moreover, we funnelled up it, dropping the two bikes in the grass outside the front entrance.

I hastily did quick surveillance of the surrounding outbuildings and then when we moved indoors I called out for my parents. When nobody returned a calling, I thought brilliant, the coast is clear. Although that did not deter me from running rampantly throughout each of the ground-floor rooms to make sure that the both of us were alone. When I was content that nobody was about the both of us scaled the stairs and went to my room. From there I shut the doorway, and the moment the door closed, the two of us began to get all shy and bashful.

Everything that had we built on the bike ride came tumbling down. Only I could still feel the presence of it in the air, and all I had to do to re-spark our kindle was to lean over and give Ross a peck on the lips, and then he gave me a peck on the lips, vice versa. The entire steaminess of our taboo roared back into life, and the two of us began to kiss each other tenderly.

Us two began to fumble for the bed, at the time it seemed like an excuse to ditch clothes. Inevitably we absently patted our way to the bed and disregarded our clothes clumsily. When finally arrived alongside and sat down on the edge of the bed; cushioned underneath by its plump duvet and wearing nothing other than our skimpy, tight underwear we hesitated and peered back at each other.

It felt weird gawking back at Ross, I'm not sure what Ross was considering, but all I could notice was how horny I was. Now that I reflect on it, I wish I wasn't.

I placed my hand on Ross's hip, and we began to tilt naturally and spread out to lay down on the bed. At first, all we did was touch one another, and then we made use of the pillows at the top of the bed to lie on. We resorted to masturbating side-by-side while looking at each other. And then Ross did something I never thought he would do. Ross stopped with me amid act and asked me, "can I try something?"

All I could do was nod, and as I watched Ross shuffle about on the mattress, he eventually gravitated toward the end of the bed. I had an idea as to where this was going, but I didn't say anything out loud because I was terrified even to move. Preferably, I laid there and let him do what he wanted to do. A couple of nervous exhales, and grins were exchanged, and then Ross gripped my erect penis and began to push up and down in his fingers. The sensation was electrifying. I lay back in awe… to savour his soft squeeze pumping me to an eruption. I rested viewing, helplessly and entirely in love. He gracefully pulled at me with a quickened pace, and he would occasionally smile at what he was doing. Surveying Ross in this light before never caught me so emotionally invested. I gratified everything that transpired directly in front of my eyes.

Ross naked, a delicate torso, small shoulders, toned stomach. Cherubic nose, soft lashes, emerald eyes and portly lips. All to be diverted to his fluidly dick wavering with each stroke of my hardness. It bobbed, listed and occasionally righted itself subconsciously without Ross having even to touch himself. A meagre offering of black, certainly a non-witnessed display of pubic hair began to bloom into atonement. The sight to behold was absurdly exaggerated with a tingle in the base of my balls which began to intensify. Ross appeared to be caught up in giving me pleasure willingly than himself. I closed my eyes to memorise what it would feel like to have Ross holding me there because tomorrow I'll have to revert to myself made ways of masturbation. Furthermore, then something peculiar happened. Now let's get this abundantly clear I didn't ask Ross to do anything like this, he just did it. As my eyes were closed a certain warmness enveloped my rigidness. It nearly sent me overboard, and I shot my eyes open to find Ross with his head in my lap. Ross was licking my willy.

Ross paused momentarily, looked up and asked," you want?"

All I could do was absently watch back at him and after a second Ross cautiously went back to doing what he was doing. The sentiment of the entire act rendered me useless, and all I could do was prop my head back on the pillow as I was utterly speechless.

I had heard of this before but to experience it; it's indescribable. I managed to sigh relief at the heavenly activity. It didn't look that hard to do so I affirmed whatever Ross was doing that I could probably do it when to him he was finished with me.

Ross toyed with my member, and then he wrapped the very tip of my dick within the small of his lips. That's when the sensation was too much for me to handle and I pushed him off declaring that I was about to cum. Ross raised his head from my lap and a millisecond following I came and had the most powerful orgasm of my entire life. I had to rest for a time, and when I offered if Ross wanted me to do the same, he declined. Instead, Ross asked me if I could jerk him off. Considering he had gone out of his way to do what he did for me; I felt excellent about what had happened and a slight bit of disappointment at not being able to give him the same passion he had given me. Except, I tried my best to make him feel the sexy feelings that he gave me and then he did eventually come not long after I tried my hardest. Once we wiped off the loose mess that we made. We took a minute to regain our strength and sorta… fell asleep on my bed. I don't know how long we drifted off for, though all I remember is the time that that knock resounded the surface of the door. There wasn't even a fraction of a second between the rat-a-tat, and when the door swung open.

"Hey, boys, since you're here can you give me push with the old car from the gara…," Dad enthusiastically began as he entered the room.

When I was startled awake from a spooned position with Ross, I glanced over my shoulder in terror to find my dad in my room. My dad froze in the doorway, and a looked of resentment established itself on his face.

I was, and I still am petrified at about whatever is going to happen. I instantly covered myself up, and I believe Ross did the same. I leapt out of bed for clothes to hide behind and Ross reeled off the mattress on the far side on to his knees so that he wasn't exposed. Once I had something to distil my nudity I slowly crept back to the mattress after gathering garments from the ground and sat down for a moment. Dad didn't say anything. Alternately, he blinked and then backed out and shut the door which has been eating away at me since Ross left.

Yeah regarding that Ross left over an hour ago. I have been sitting here since then waiting for my faith/doomsday to come. I feel shitty, embarrassed, nauseated, jittery, sorry, ashamed. I am experiencing everything at once, and it all makes me want to get sick until the lining of my stomach is no more. I chose to write to take my mind off it after Ross scampered off home.

The second my dad left the bedroom, I pivoted my head over my shoulder to see Ross who remained on the floor; equally ashamed and afraid to move. Following a second of complete silence, Ross got off the floor and plopped down on the far side of the bed behind me. Straining forward, I plucked up some of our clothes, and I threw his stuff over to his side. The both of us never bothered to say anything, and we dressed in silence, back to back, drowning in the agony of deafness.

When dressed, Ross remained at the bedside. I too heisted, I squatted and watched at the door fearing that my dad would burst through it once it finally came to the full realisation what he saw me doing. Thankfully that hasn't happened yet. I'm unsure as to why I concluded that my dad would hit me, however; he is not violent, though that doesn't stop me from being afraid of him just because he is not a person who shows his turbulent behaviour. I think I've let myself down, and on top of that, I believe I've let my family down because I am this way. I can't help but feel this way. I wonder what will happen. Will they stop me from seeing Ross; I only have one more day, why did I need this to happen on the last day we have together. Soon my dad will tell my mam, and they will never trust me when I'm around other boys.

The stillness of the situation must have gotten to Ross a lot quicker than it got me because all I could do was resort to the worse case imaginable. It could have been a while now that I think of it. I mean the sun in the room did gradually move so perhaps time did pass between my dad coming in and Ross leaving.

Breaking the quiet Ross inquired, "do you want me to go?"

I hope I did not intentionally hurt Ross when I mumbled, "yeah..." Not for one minute did I blame him. It was more of the embarrassment of getting caught with Ross. I was frightened. I know my parents are not going to leave what happened between Ross and me alone. I have been studying my alarm clock for most of the evening, and I'm waiting for them to call me downstairs to have a particularly severe talk. And if this does end up being my last journal entry, then you should know then I'm probably dead. I know it sounds a bit morbid when I put it down like that but that's how I imagine it. Why did something so serious like this have to happen on the evening before Ross has to go back to England? I should've told Ross to stay, except my mind was preoccupied with all the what-ifs.

The both of us hadn't looked at each other, and Ross asked for clarification, "yeah what?"

It sounded sincere although anxious at the same time. I guess you could say it was a little comforting that with what I was going through, Ross was worried for me. Then again perhaps he was afraid that my dad would tell my mom, and then my mother would tell Ross's grandparents, and then I suppose you could say the news would eventually reach London and Ross's folks would know then. That's news; it gets passed from person to person like it were a piece of fruit. By the time the fruit gets to the end of the conveyor belt, it's most likely rotten.

The reality of the situation had not kicked in until the silence fell upon us again and that's when I jumped up understanding how screwed I was. A flush of panic sweated out my pores, my heart raced in my chest, and a void crumbled into my chest with anxiety.

Pacing back-and-forth the room, I ran my hands through my hair chanting, "this is bad... Oh, fuck…"

The scenario of my impending destiny raced to my head, and the turbulence of the entire conclusion of being exposed made me ill to my stomach. On the contrary, I still feel a bit nauseous. I wonder why I haven't gotten sick yet perhaps it's my subconscious telling me that I'm overreacting, but I can't help but exaggerate because everything I've ever hidden from my parents is now out in the open. I have nothing to lurk behind. I should've been more careful. I don't hate Ross are anything, but if I would have maintained my distance would things had worked out differently.

Ross took note of my exhibited frustration and terror. Alternatively, rather than sitting on the bed contemplating about how he could wiggle his way out of ever being caught with me in such a compromising position Ross said in a sincere and genuine tone, "it'll be okay."

I sensed him raise off the bed and he patted around my mattress and tried to comfort me. I'm sorry if I said anything that I wasn't supposed to say, and I'm sorry for all the screw ups I keep making. I'm still learning, and it's going to take a while because I have nobody else to talk to but you. It's funny really. I'm turning my subconscious thoughts into another human being in the form of a diary. Somewhere along the line, I'm hoping that you, my journal will speak back to me but I know I'm not delusional so that will never happen. If it did, I'd probably totally freaked out that I'd fling you and all your contents out the window so fast that I break the sound barrier. Sorry...

I didn't inherently intend to get rid of Ross, but I needed some time to think and every logical conclusion I settled on ended up with, told me to adapt to a life of solitary, or at least temporarily.

I probably got a little annoyed with Ross because he assumes that everything was going to be okay when my dad just totally walked in on me. I should mention he hasn't come back to talk to me or my mam at that rate. Therefore all the time that I've been sitting here talking to you… I've had nothing, but guilt and humiliation eat away at me. It's not that I don't want to be this way, it's the world that sees its weird. I acknowledge I have a lot more to offer than just my gayness, only anytime the world should see my gayness that's the only thing they notice.

So, I said, "what?" from bewilderment. Ross is delusional for mentioning it.

I can't understand how Ross was so calm and collect when he said, " well... I don't... Just, he didn't react badly, that's all." What did he mean by that that he did not react badly? If anything, I assume he responded accordingly. Dad saw that I was puff and that he didn't know how to process what he saw so that's he backed out the door. Know that Ross is gone, I'll have to fight my own battle. Where did dad even come from; I checked the whole house, I called several of times, though he was nowhere to be found. Oh, wait… I didn't check the shed, maybe that's where dad was all along and that when he saw my bikes, he knew Ross and I were home because we left them out in plain view. Secondly, why was he looking for me? Oh yeah… right he wanted me to help him.

Fear radiated throughout my body like when you put a teabag into a cup and add water. My brain is officially warped, and all I can think about is what my mam is going to say. The last thing I want to do is disappoint my parents. I am their only child. I assume they believed I'd probably turn out normal.

Then again when I remember what Eli said, "what is normal?" I feel bad because even if I try to make it better, I'll never be happy if I can't be who I am.

I tried to like Emma, I did, but I didn't feel anything special for her. When I pushed her away and let myself like Ross, I felt much better.

It was at that point that fear had turned into desolation and tears began to fall. "My mam's going to know now," I cried.

There was silence following my last statement, and then from the corner of my room Ross mumbled a faint, "I'm sorry."

I didn't mean to, only I shouted at Ross. I am incredibly remorseful for doing it; I want to apologise. I hope you understand, but I can't leave because I think my parents are downstairs. They are probably discussing where they can dispose of their gay son.

I was agitated, and my head was all over the place; which feels melted now, but I yelled at Ross. We had a bit of a fight, and I need to say sorry to him…

I yelled, "Sorry! Is that all you can come up with. I'm fucking sorry."

At the time I thought that if Ross weren't in my room, then we would have never been a caught so at the moment I guess you could say I was blaming him; even though I didn't want to. I'm not sure who is to blame; is there even a person or a problem to accuse. It just happened so maybe I'm the one to condemn… Sigh.

It was mortifying you know, and the rejection I saw in Ross's eyes made him well up a little, he did look bothered. Ross seemed hurt at the fact that I shouted at him than the fact that we would have to deal with the consequences of having gotten caught.

Ross glumly stated while looking down at the floor in defeat, "I don't know, but I'm sorry." His voice even quivered, and that sent a chill down my spine.

My mind went off on a tangent. It appeared to be easy to blame everyone else for my problems rather than myself. I know it's a shitty thing to do, but I blamed what happened earlier today all on Ross. I know I mentioned beforehand that I didn't conclude him as an excuse for my problem, except ironically I did. I don't feel that way now… It was just in the moment sort of thing, that's all it ever will be. I've already stated that I want to say that I'm apologetic so perhaps when I finish this little entry, I'll go next door and say sorry to him. I'll sneak out before my parents have a chance to talk to me. I can't exactly sneak out my window because if I did jump out of it, I'd end up breaking my leg, though if it stopped him from interrogating me, then I guess a broken leg seems like a lifesaver.

The both of us at the time reverted to ourselves, and we both stood awkwardly in each other's company. Until Ross decided to withdraw slowly to the door, opened it and slid out. That was last time I saw him, and the both of us appeared to be exhibiting rattled nerves. I should have gone after him ideally, but I assumed the cooling off period would be good.

I'm contemplating about hopping out the window again. It really does sound like a good idea; I mean all it will amount to is a broken leg, I may even get off with a sprained ankle. Right, I'm not sure where the notion of such a concept is coming from. Expect all I know is that I would much rather be anywhere than here when I have to face my dad, and the position he found me in with Ross. Possibly I could go to sleep early; they won't disrupt me if…

Okay, I legit panicking now. My mam summoned me from downstairs. When I went out to the landing, mam said that she and dad want to talk. The impending darkness at the bottom of the stairs seems creepy to me; not because that, I'm afraid that some monster will leap out and drag me to the depths of hell. But because knowing that my dad will be in the same room with the only source of light is what haunts me. Then, I guess I can't leave them waiting too long. I suppose it was bound to happen. Notably, I am going to descend the levels and walk towards the yellow light to accept my crumbling fate. I'll write more if I'm still here afterwards - Adam.

17th July 1991 - Part 2

I haven't composed two entries on the same day in a while. Though here goes because I've got a lot of reflection to work from. I am supposedly banned from seeing Ross; and well… he's going tomorrow. The timing is imperfect. I should have hopped out the window while I had the chance. At least I wouldn't have had to sit through an entire hour of my parent's disconcerting habitable lectures. In any case, I would've been rushed off to the hospital with a broken leg. Now I suppose since it's all said and done I have nothing to hide behind. My dad unmistakably told my mam, and somewhere in the middle of my discussion my panic mechanism shotted into action, and I blurted out that I was gay. Therefore perfect, my parents know that I'm queer. I can't emphasise how odd it makes me feel, however as I descended the stairs, I concluded that my life was over. The darkness encircled me as I slipped into the void at the bottom of the stairs. With each step, I drew forward. All I could come to think of was the stares that I'd get from my folks. It wasn't the thought of receiving stern looks or getting told off for my actions. It was the disappointing expression's of which I was worrisome about. The last thing I aspire to do is disappoint them and well if I am this way. Then I guess I've just done it.

Then anyway, as I slowly made my way into the sitting room, I squatted down in the armchair by the door. I wanted to make sure that I had a swift escape if I needed to because who knew what a conversation like this could lead to. The second my ass contacted the cushions my legs began to tremble; a form of ragged breathing took hold, and my heart was gallivanting in my chest. I don't grasp why but I underwent a shortness of expiration in the repertory system.

Like literally when my mother said, "Adam your father and I would like to talk to you." my heart must've avoided a beat.

It did not exhibit the same way as my heart would respond anytime when I'm around Ross. It's irregular contortion pulsed within the confines of my chest. I sat there blaming Ross for having put me in this predicament. Although at the time, I didn't seem to have any problem cuddling. So, who is to blame when everyone is to condemn.

I sat slumped, with my elbows on my knees bowing forward. The thin silence was broken when my mother said, "your dad tells me that you... Were doing inappropriate things with the boy next door."

'The boy next door!' is that what Ross has been reduced to just the kid next door. Even though I was a little angry at Ross, it made me a little madder, even sadder to hear my mother address Ross like that. Does that mean that she is disgusted with the act that we were found in?

A shrouded stillness enveloped the three of us. The awkwardness was heavy in the air. I assumed that the topic under discussion wasn't the easiest or even the pleasantest for my parents to endure. So at least I wasn't alone in the matter.

The frail silence was then broken when my dad cut in, "inappropriate Annette; the boys were fondling each other… Cuddling." Dad raised his palm to his forehead and stroked his eyebrow in discontent.

Of course, my mam tried to settle him. She stretched over and cupped his hand and called him by name. It felt weird hearing my parents address each other by their first names.

Feeling guilty regarding the entire situation all I could manage to do was work myself into a frenzy. My eyes began to well up, and I offered, "I'm sorry…," in pity. The second I said that the tears started to descend.

"I know I'm sick," I confessed.

My mother rose from the sofa and slid onto her knees in front of me. Taking my hands in hers, she consoled me. "No... No... Sweetie don't say that."

Remorseful for my actions I spluttered up, "I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

And I mean it, I don't ever be put in that situation again. It's worse than you can ever imagine. I'll never let myself do anything that I did with Ross ever happened to me again. I don't need to sit down a second time to have to explain what occurred to my parents anew. I'd rather be committed to murder than having to endure a striking silence and false pretences held up by what my folks believed to be right, and in the best interests for me.

We spoke for a while longer, and every variety of discussion imaginable came up. Was I scrambled? Perhaps I wasn't confused, and this was the way I was. My mam tried to state that most kids my age are curious. Possibly it was me just figuring out who I am and what I like. Or on the off chance that it could be a phase I'm going through. All along, however, my dad kept giving me awkward stares, and I was too afraid to speak out of turn. Alternatively, I remained withdrawn and listened to whatever they had to say as I felt that if I vocalised something worse would become of me. I'm astonished they didn't give a stricter punishment, but it hurt when my dad concluded the entire sitdown.

Dad got up, strolled to the door, and before exiting, and peered down at me before saying, "Ross… That boy next door. You're not allowed to hang out with him."

I was calm and collected. I also managed to stop crying. I did try and reply that I only have one day left before he goes. Though my dad didn't want to hear anything about it. Instead, dad shrugged off whatever I wanted to say and left the room. I have course frantically started to bawl again, and my mother said that it was best to drop it now. So yeah that's my shitty evening for you. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I guess I'll try and get some sleep because I haven't got the emotional power to resume writing. I'll figure out what to do in the morning. I hope Ross doesn't go. I'll break my parent's wishes to say goodbye. Anyhow, Night I guess - Adam.

18th July 1991 - Part 1

It's after 2 am. I can't sleep at all. I continue to toss and turn, toss and turn, tossing and fucking turning. Whatever did I do to deserve this? I'm sorry okay; I'll change. If I never have to deal with anything like this ever again. I hope my mam and dad didn't tell Ross's grandparents. I'll accept the blame. I don't want him to get into trouble; he has enough things to worry about. The last thing I want to do is to see him cry, or hurt at that. I assume that if I don't go to see him off tomorrow that he'll hate me for the rest of my life. Or I will never be able to see him in England like I plan to do next summer. Oh, wait… would my mam and dad let me go if my dad found me like that with Ross?

Hmm… If I were in his shoes, I'd probably refrain from allowing my son anywhere near Ross. That's how the world works, and I suppose that's how most fathers would treat the same situation. I reckon I could run away from home to see Ross, but of course, I have no idea how I'd get there. I read in a newspaper how two guys flew across the Atlantic in the wheel well of an aeroplane. I could do that right… Dublin is a long way through to get a plane. I don't think my luck would suffice twice. I wouldn't be able to stowaway on an aircraft from Galway to Dublin, and then another from Dublin to London.

I've spent a great deal of time with my little flashlight, popping it on and off hoping that somehow that when the spotlight goes out that sleep will somehow take me instantly. Alternately, notwithstanding, I am writing in you because I am sleepless and I can't figure out what to do but oh well. I haven't heard another peep from the folks, but I am still afraid to go out to the bathroom even because the fear of bumping into one of them is incredible. Plus if I do have to use the loo, then the worst thing that can happen is that… oh, wait the worst thing that can happen is pissing myself. Somehow, I believed for a second that there was nothing worse than that. The last time I pissed myself, I must have been when five, and I don't intend to revert to my old ways. It seems weird writing with a flashlight. In the odd times that I am not using it to entertain myself this evening, it is serving as a light source so that I can view the page. Thank for god flashlights. Anyhow, I think I've gotten some of my thoughts of my mind. I'm going to try and get some shuteye again.

18th July 1991 - Part 2

Gherrrrr… Agh My brain feels like it is being squished. I tricked myself into the illusion that the room was getting darker and I even opened the blinds to see if the room was indeed darker without the shades drawn. It is still the same level of blackness as it is with the screens pulled, so that didn't exactly help. I presumed that since I was laying looking at the black surroundings that the bedroom was inherently getting darker and in return me sleepier. No such luck.

However, I have come to notice that I have precisely 28 VHS tapes on my video shelve and 12 comic books that I still have to read, and of all things, I found a used sock that I had used a couple of weeks back for masturbation purposes. I even went as far as to try and jerking off to see if that would work but I couldn't even get hard, so I got frustrated at having tried.

How long has it since I wrote the last entry? I didn't fall asleep did I, and then wake back up. I hope not because I'll be pissed. I am thinking about how Ross might repeatedly be feeling. He must feel embarrassed at what happened, and I didn't even ask him if he were okay.

I let him stroll on out of here, and he didn't get a chance to say how he felt about the entire situation and I'm still really sorry for getting annoyed at him.

I have a funny though… I merely noticed that the pencil I am writing with is tiny. I never knew that before, and now with that out of the way, I guess I should put on a hoodie because it's getting a bit chilly walking around in my underwear. It's mainly my arms and shoulders that are cold but yeah...

I suppose I should keep trying, writing in here is not going to help, is it? Well later.

18th July 1991 - Part 3

I am going to strangle the fricking pillow; is that even possible. My head feels so funny. I am not dizzy, yet. Although my eyes are burning and all I want to do is sleep. I keep lounging around lazily about what transpired with my parents, and everything comes back to how we talked…. Sorry I had to realign my pillow under my stomach. I have attempted everything to get comfortable but nothing is working, this is the closest I have been to okay for a while.

Anyway, as I was mentioning the nature of the conversation is haunting me. I don't want to remember it but well… I am. Also, since I have been awake a lot longer than I wanted to be, I have noticed that my eyes have adjusted to the dark. I can see the stipple on my ceiling. It's freaky actually. The red blots on my alarm clock are hurting my eyes. They don't need to be so smug; I know its 4:22 am.

I wonder what my future will be like. Will I ever get married; because if so how do I do that since I prefer boys. Can you get married for the sake of doing it but still love boys on the side. Somehow that sounds wrong to me, and I don't think it would be fair on the other companion. I know I am a disappointment. I never wanted to make anybody feel that way but what can I do. I tried to like girls, but I don't seem to be interested in them. The first time I saw the vagina, I felt weird. Sure, there was a rush of excitement at the what if prospect, but to want to stick my dick into a hairy thing like that makes me want to cringe. Maybe I am super weird about this, and it will change when I get smarter or grow up or whatever.

I've been thinking that if I say goodbye to Ross tomorrow what will my dad do because he told me to stay away from him. Would he hit me, he hasn't smacked me since I was like seven, but even then he didn't intentionally want to do. Again, what would it mean this time around? If he hates me would that make him want to hit me harder? Hmm… I don't know. All I know is that I have a lot of decisions to make before everybody wakes up and both have consequences. Also, maybe this is a wrong time to write this because acknowledging it will only make it worse that I am contemplating about it. I could use the bathroom. I need to pee, not badly but soon. Anyway- perhaps I can go to sleep because I don't want to move.

18th July 1991 - Part 4

I shouldn't have considered it, but now I need to go the toilet. The worst case is that I have an erection momentarily with it. Why does my dick do such odd things at times? I wanted it to be hard earlier, now it feels strained or something. Not to mention the fact that Thomas has come into my mind; he is the only other gay person in the village. So, when Ross goes… I promise I am not going to have Thomas replace Ross, but perhaps it would be nice to get to know him. Wait… what… I thinking of Thomas and Ross hasn't even left. Is that bad? It's the erection speaking that's what it is. Or is it?

I estimated it would be a nice gesture to give Thomas the benefit of the doubt. He likes me so I assumed that while we are at the social occasion in the pub coming up soon, I could offer him a dance. I know that would mean exposing myself to the entire town. It's a dumb thought not that I would dance for the townsfolk. I merely wanted to say sorry to Thomas, I have no idea why he is in my mind at the moment, but I spent the last ten or so minutes gloating about the room. Dancing on the spot like a retard because I am trying to exercise my willpower. I spent some of the time looking out the window, and my attention wandered from Ross's darkened bedroom window to where the treehouse ought to be located in Thomas yard.

I never noticed before how many stars are in the sky. It's pretttime becausey; I guess I can understand why some people prefer the night-time compared to the day. Apologies if I am speaking gibberish but my eyes are crossing inward, and they are stinging the living daylights out of me. Maybe I should take a chance and go to the toilet, and while I am in there, I can run some water for my eyes.

Fuck… I need to go now… all that thinking of water… - Adam.

18th July 1991 - Part 5

I'm still awake. I went to the toilet a while back, but all I craved to do is sleep. The relief afterwards was delightful, but I have been laying limp for the last two hours, I think. I am going to hurl that alarm clock out the window when the timer gets to 6 am. It's currently at 5:57 and all I can do slump on my bed and write this. My brain is paining. I don't even need to the flashlight all that much anymore because the sun is rising.

I can't believe I have been awake an entire day. Help me I am a zombified Adam. I need sleep… fear and sadness have crept in again. I must have been crying beforehand because my pillowcase was wet when I came too, I must have dozed off for a second but nope. Sleep said… "fuck off we don't want you yet." Sigh… I can't consider much because I am zonked, but I'm screwed. I am never going to be able to live normally and have friends that are boys now that my parents know. I assumed my dad would have killed me. I believed my mam liked Ross, but all along she was sweet because he is my friend. Well, he is more than my friend. I love him.

You know what… I'm hungry, did I have dinner? Oh no, wait I didn't. I turned it down. Perhaps my parents threw away my food. They did mention about an hour later that my dinner was ready, but of course, I was too ashamed to come down and eat it. Conceivably if I eat it, I might be able to sleep properly. Yeah, I think I'll try to do that… I need to get food… anyway later- Adam. (Who has a massive headache coming on.)

18th July 1991 - Part 6

Ross is gone. It feel's funny; not due to the lack of sleep I got. Everything seems odd knowing that he is gone. I'll try to sum it up, but I'll have to do it in a set amount of words because there are not enough pages left in this book to utilise. I didn't get a chance to let my mam to go into town to get me and new diary so now I am stuck with whatever space I have left in this journal. Subconsciously it felt amazing knowing that Ross was next door all along but now it appears, I'm not sure, a lot less full without him, my world I mean. I managed to fall asleep around 7 am. The only thing is that I was woken by the sound of the doorbell around 11.

When I rose, I felt like I had been dragged behind a car for kilometres at a time. Only there was no cuts, bruises or scrapes showing to say that I had had a restless night. I believe that it has been my worst night's sleep in a long time. I am not sure if the reason is purely the fact that I knew Ross was going or if it was me just contemplating that my parents know.

Though now Ross is gone. Is it weird that I miss Ross? I mean it happened all of a sudden, and it feels funny to comprehend that I won't be able to get out of bed, stroll across the yard and knock for him. That somehow is saddening to me. It was so easy to be able to rap my knucks across his grandparents front door for him, but know that he is gone I don't think I'll find anyone the same as me ever again.

When I got out of the bed I, of course, headed for the window in my parent's room to see who the mysterious person was at the door and sure and behold it was Ross with Eli and the boys. I was glad that he hadn't of gone, and I was quick to dart across the bedroom, and race down the stairs, but when I got to the midway point on the levels, I stopped because my dad was at the door. Ross appeared a little quiet but I wanted to see him, and with the amount of noise I had made my dad glanced around to find that it was me. When he saw me, he gave me a scornful look, and he didn't even have to say anything. I retreated up the stairs and to my bedroom. I did manage to get Ross to notice me, though he looked even more hurt when he saw me crawling back up the stairs. I to was heartbroken that I would not be able to say goodbye Ross. I was on the verge of crying, why did my dad have to do that.

Though Ross remained optimistic about the entire situation. He spoke confidently when he was talking to my dad. He said, "em… I came to say goodbye to Adam… can I say goodbye?

However, my dad affirmed that it was a bad idea to say goodbye and even Carl and Eli spoke up, and my dad threatened to go to their parents for loitering and being mouthy. I'm so embarrassed that my dad would treat me that way in front of my friends. I mean I am a good son right… what did I do to make him want to treat me this way? I am sorry for having the disease I have.

As I watched helplessly from my bedroom window, I overheard the boys calling back to my dad that Ross was leaving at 12 and that if my dad allowed me to say goodbye to Ross that there was still time.

Time passed, and as I sat around, I decided to go down for breakfast figuring I was hungry. The best thing to do was put Ross behind me even though it hurt like hell, fully knowing that I was sitting down and the only person I have ever loved up to this point in my life this way is getting ready to leave.

It was hard. It has been the most challenging thing for me to do. To sit there and mind my own business and pretend that all of this was for nothing and that it never meant anything to me from the get-go.

I didn't feel content at the kitchen table. When my dad came in doing what was arranged. I worked up the bit of courage I still had left in me to beg. I begged, and I don't beg for anyone, and well that was what it was like. I desperately required to see Ross. I knew I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't see him off. Naturally, my dad replied grouchily that I could not say goodbye and that I could either go to my room to play off my sulking or spend the afternoon after lunch with him making new fencing for a chicken coop. I decided to take the sulking in my room as to demonstrate how annoyed and upset I was with him like it meant something but in all it didn't. Although as time pressed on, I became antsy at how little time I had left to say goodbye. Then, it was 11:45 and all I could think about was Ross… Ross invaded every single brain cell of my mind.

I did attempt to try and sneak down the stairs, but my dad was hanging a picture in the hallway, and when I got to the door, he asked, "what are you doing."

I jumped startled by his intrusion as I didn't realise he was there and well I told him straight off, "I need to say goodbye."

Ironically, dad got stubborn about it, and I got annoyed, and the two of us had a heated exchange of words. I went to unhitch the front door, I was prepared to run as hard as I ever could, but my dad slammed his palm against the door and got grumpy with me. I wasn't given a chance to explain, and I was sent back up to my bedroom where I was left to mourn again.

I resorted to looking out the window, all the boys where in a circle sitting down on the grass and I was depressed at this time. Time stood still when I saw his grandad come from the house with Ross's suitcase and he called for him. I knew he was going and my heart broke as I watched Ross stand up and begin to hug people, saying goodbye.

I knew that I was never going to see him off and that this was going to be a sadder ending for me, but I was determined. I got panicky and well I remembered from last night about jumping out the window and well, I hopped out the window.

The fall to the grassy ground was harder than anything I have ever felt in my entire life. I must remind myself never to do that again, but it did get me to where I wanted to go. I recall laying on the green for a couple of seconds after I opened the window, hesitated and then jumped when I look over at Ross. I did land partially on my feet but the force of the impact crippled me, and I hit the ground, including my head. I was dazed for a moment, but I knew that I had to hurry up, and like that, I dragged myself up off the lawn and limped down the driveway. I could hear the car starting in the lane as I kicked at the gravel and cried. I was going as fast as I could, and all I cared about was getting to Ross. My leg hurt me, and my heart hammered in my chest.

The end of my drive never seemed as long to run. Eventually, I got to the end of the convergent point of the two paths. Mr Wilson drove out and jammed on the break since I ran right out in front of him and the car grounded to a halt.

Forgive me if my writing is getting smaller, but I need to make it tiny so that I can finish what I am talking about before I run out of paper. It is bugging me now; I should have gotten the paper myself.

Nevertheless, Mr Wilson jumped out of the car a little shaken and asked if I was okay and I nodded yes. Ross was sitting in the back seat, and it took him a moment to crawl on out. The door propped open shyly, and Ross slid out with his right leg planted firmly on the gravel. His body still hidden behind the semi-open door. His expression appeared to be distraught. He looked sad, and I knew that I presumably looked like a mess. I mean I had been crying for a bit, I hadn't showered, and well I had limped whatever energy I did have to get here to see him off. Ross was in shock, and I was uncomfortable after the violent shudder from jumping from a two-story house. Instead, the two of us glared back at each other, me panting and Ross looking washy. It was the first time I ever had a thought of Ross that wasn't in a sexual way; all I could think of is that I'll miss having him to smile with, having his company, or the tingly feeling he'd make me experience.

I took a step forward, and Ross shuffled out of the car and placed his left leg in the dirt. The sheet of metal, glass and rubber that divided us wobbled as Ross clamped his fingers to the top of the door and came out from behind it. His eyes were glassy, the soft skin beneath his eyes moist with wetness and his stance, small and vulnerable.

Our eyes wandered inconsolably between each other but never landing on the other person. I dug deep, drew in a breath and said, "so… you're going to have to teach me how to juggle next summer."

I gave a snivel, and the two of our eyes brushed past each other. Ross chuckled. An uncomfortable sensation of longing convulsed throughout my being. A rush of dejection and nostalgia flooded into my heart, and I raced for Ross. It was comforting to know that the feeling was mutual but sad at his departure.

The two of us closed the gap and meshed together effortlessly. The hug was robust, firm and safe. To have Ross to hold was depression and joy mixed in one but when Ross mumbled into the confines of my shoulder which was wet with his tears, I think I now know what heartbreak feels like. I closed my eyes, embracing the moment, his smell, and how his body is to cherish all that he is. I imagined that his eyes were closed too and I believe that we held each other a little longer than most boys ought to keep each other.

Ross whispered, "I love you…" His lips vibrated off my earlobe.

My heart sank, and I held him tighter, with my head draped loosely over his shoulder, and my nose embedded into the softness of his hair. With a sniffle, I whispered back, "I love you more…" His hug is all that I could have asked for, and well I don't think I'll ever get that again. I love Ross unconditionally, and I now know that he felt the same about me all along.

When we broke our embrace, the lads had wandered down from the garden, but all that mattered to me was standing right in front of me. Ross glanced back and me and reached up to aimlessly wipe at his eyes and I tried to give him a weak smile to let him know that everything will be okay and that what we had, well… I still care a great deal about what transpired between him and I. I will make sure that as long as I am able, I will make money so that I can visit Ross in London. I'll try and get my dad to work around letting me go, somehow or another.

I didn't feel as shy or as embarrassed. Instead, I let Ross got back into the car after his grandad said that they needed to be going. When I glanced across at him, he seemed to be giving me questioning eyes, though he didn't say anything so I think I'm still in the clear.

Once the door closed I knew that this was it, once I could view my reflecting in the mirror glass along with Ross's on the interior, I knew that this could be the last time I would ever see him. My fragile heart had never experienced love in all its glory before until this afternoon.

As a final goodbye I placed my hand on the window as his granddad started the car and a second later Ross moved his up to the window also. Shortly after, the car was moving, and I was running alongside it with our two hands pressed against the window securely until I had to finally stop running because the road only had enough room for the car to drive on.

Looking into the distance, I saw the swell, and that's when I turned to the window shouted, "don't forget about me!"

Ross rolled the window down a little and shouted, "I won't…" and like that, I stopped running, and the car brushed by me and drove on down the road. Leaving my friends and me in the middle of the dusty gravel path as Ross departed, but at the same time he has given so much to remember, and as I write this I can't help but treasure turning around to find my friends all coyly smirking at me. I was waiting for them to slag me off about it, like clockwork, they all conspired to work against me and make fun of me lightly, only I didn't feel as alone with Ross gone. If anything, my friends were there for me, and that's what makes friendship worthwhile. True you may have ups and downs, rivalries with sarcasm and the occasional screaming match. Although beneath it all if you just manage to let them in on your life, the ones that understand are the only ones that will ever matter, and ones that will never follow were never meant to matter.

I couldn't help myself; I glanced at Ross's contact info in the back of my diary. I know I have said this many times already but with Ross gone, there is no sadness, it's a grateful feeling. I am still hopeful that one day I will save up enough money to see him and I believe that is what will keep me going. My dream to visit Ross has begun, and although dad is still pissed at me for leaving the house, I have the ability to dream of what I want, and Ross is all I will ever want.

I heard local the shop has a newspaper boy slot opening. I should get in and start making a wage to aid me in getting to Ross. I only have to live without him for a couple (very long) months. Possibly if I have enough saved, I could see him at Christmas. Yeah, that sounds awesome, Christmas it is.

We'll see... if not then, I hope wherever you are Ross, that you are home, safe, and that you still want me to visit' come summer. I am determined to master the art of juggling. I pray you will hold that guttural drive and patience to teach me as you did with cards when I get there.



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