It was on one of those rainy Sundays my brother Jeff and I had decided to visit an art gallery. I was thinking about buying a nice painting I had seen before in that shop. But Jeff called and told me that his wife and his youngest child were ill and that he would rather stay at home. Of course I understood. I thought about going alone to the gallery, but decided against it. Jeff's opinion mattered to me and the weather was awful, so driving there would not be much fun that day.
Because the attic was kind of a mess, I decided I would try and clean it a little. It was an ideal task for a rainy Sunday. The sound of the rain on the roof was nice and before I knew it I had spent 3 hours in the attic going through all my old stuff. I decided to throw out lots of things and I finally had everything sorted out. The stuff I would give away to some near by second hand shop, the things that I would throw out and the items I wanted to keep, I put in different piles. While thinking what to do with a cuddly fish, I noticed two boxes in a corner. I didn't think they were mine, so I threw the fish with the 'things I want to keep' (the fish was my friend when I was a child, how could I give my friend away) and looked at the boxes a bit closer. When I saw my name in my father's handwriting, I remembered. A few months ago he had brought these two boxes with him when he came to visit me. He said that there was some old stuff in them he had found in the basement while cleaning up. He didn't know what I wanted to keep and what I wanted to throw out, so he decided to put everything in a box and let me decide. I put the boxes on my attic without even looking in them, so I decided to open them now.
In the first box were a lot of my old clothes. It was funny to see those clothes again. I must have worn some of them a million times. The colours were a bit faded, but they were all still looking better than I would have thought. I decided to give them to the second hand shop. When I opened the other box, my heart stopped beating for a moment. There on top of some old toys was a t-shirt that wasn't mine. It was Tom's. He loaned it to me sometime ago and I was supposed to have given it back to him. I couldn't resist and smelled the t-shirt. Although very faint, and maybe it was only my imagination, I could smell Tom again. Although I had thought of Tom a lot over the years, the memory was suddenly so strong that it seemed like yesterday when we last met.
Tom was my best friend. We were always together. We also slept together a lot. He had an extra bed in his room, which his mother hadn't bothered to put away. I slept there at least once a week. He did sometimes sleep at my house too, but I stayed at his house more. When I got older I felt my love for Tom grow stronger and stronger. And while he was talking about girls, cars and beer, I was thinking how it would feel to touch him. And I didn't mean touching him like we did all the time, when we had a fight that was not really a fight or when he always hugged me on my birthday. No, I was thinking about how it would feel to have his naked body against mine, to touch his body everywhere, even his cock. I had seen Tom hard only once, and he was asleep then. He never knew I saw it, but that image was like burnt on my eyes, because I kept seeing it over and over. I figured I had to be gay, but I wasn't interested in other boys, only in Tom. Tom admitted to me once that he jacked off and I told him I did too, but we never talked about it anymore, much less do it together. I would have liked us to jack off together, but we never did in part I suppose, because I was way too shy to ask him.
Our very close friendship came to a very sudden end one day when I went to Tom's house and he seemed very nervous. He kept looking at me with these pleading eyes. I asked Tom what was wrong, but he just said nothing was wrong. It was not fun being with Tom that afternoon and so I left much earlier than usual. Tom looked in my eyes and asked me if I didn't want to discuss something with him. I answered that I would tell him later where babies come from, to joke and lighten up the situation. Then Tom's eyes turned stone cold, he looked at me and said: 'you know we will never see each other again, I don't ever want to see you again'. Then punched me in the face very hard. It almost made me cry and it had been a long time since I had cried. I got a nosebleed and for a minute it seemed like Tom wanted to help me, because his eyes turned from stone cold to hurting in the blink of an eye. Instead he turned around and walked into his house.
When I got home, I cried. Not because of my nose, although I still felt some pain. No, because I couldn't understand what had happened that made Tom hate me so much. In the days after that I tried to contact Tom by phone and by going to his house, but he didn't want to speak to me. I stayed really sad for quite some time. I even thought about committing suicide for a short time, but after a while I started feeling a little better and I made some new friends. I kept thinking of Tom though. My new friends were important to me, but not one of them was ever so special as Tom. One day I had to deliver some Christmas cards for my mother. A friend of hers lived in the same street as Tom and I passed his house. The garden looked like a rainforest and there were some windows broken. A boy that delivered newspapers saw me standing there and said to me, "The people who lived here moved out 6 months ago". I asked him where they went, but he told me he didn't know. In the weeks after that I asked quite a few people if they knew where Tom and his family moved, but nobody knew. Some people didn't even know they had moved at all. I felt a great sense of loss. Although Tom and I hadn't spoken to each other in a year, I still felt it comforting to know he was never really far away, but now I knew he was. For all I knew he could be on the other side of the world, and that thought made me cry all over again, even after a year.
I decided to keep the t-shirt because Tom had been such a big part of my childhood. After I had put all the items for the second hand shop in boxes and had thrown out the things that belonged with the garbage, the weather had cleared up. I took a long walk in the park and let all the sad memories of Tom be blown out by the wind.
A few months later, my mother invited me to have dinner with her. My parents have been divorced for two years now. It happened right after my youngest brother left the house, and I have never seen them happier. They still see each other and are good friends now, but they don't live together. Mum has a boyfriend that she sees a lot, but she doesn't want to marry him, or even live together. She keeps telling me how important freedom is in her life. While we were having dinner, she told me that she had seen Tom's mother. My heart made a strange jump when she said that, but I managed to stay calm and she told me that Tom and his parents had moved some place (she had forgotten the name) at the other end of the country, but Tom's mum didn't like living there and she moved back. Tom's father had died a few months ago in a tragic traffic accident. I asked my mum if Tom was also back, but she said no, Tom was living on his own now. But she didn't really know where. My mum and Tom's mum had not spoken too much about Tom and me. In fact their meeting was only very short. I asked my mum if she knew where Tom's mother lived now and she told me that she lived at the same address where they used to live. A new house had been built on that land. After that the conversation went to back to mum's lover and of course she kept asking me if I had managed to get me some nice girl. I just said no. I never told my parents I was gay, even though I'm very sure that I am gay. I just don't see any point in telling them when I have nobody special to be gay with. I met some nice guys, but it never worked out. Tom might still be in my mind a little too much.
After coming home from that dinner with mum I decided that I wanted to speak Tom's mother, but I just couldn't find the right excuse to visit her. When I opened my closet a few weeks later I saw Tom's shirt hanging there. I decided to bring it back to Tom's mum. Of course I realized it was a dumb excuse to go visit Tom's mum, but it was the best I had, so I decided to go there.
Tom's mother was very sweet to me. She even remembered the t-shirt and offered me a cup of tea. She told me that Tom was very busy with his work, something with computers was all she knew about that. He lived alone in a small apartment. She told me she had never seen Tom with a girl and that she was beginning to think her boy would never marry. I smiled, as she sounded just like my mum. When I was about to leave, she stood up and said that she suddenly remembered something. Shortly before she moved back she had to short out all the clothes from her late husband. In one very old jacket he hadn't worn for a long time, she found a letter that was addressed to me. She decided to keep it and give it to my mum some day. But since I was here now, she gave it to me. I thanked her for the tea and went on my way home. I thought the letter was just something I had left behind at Tom's during one of my many visits, so I didn't give it much thought.
When I got home I threw the letter on the table and started to make dinner. I completely forgot about it until a few days later I was paying some bills and I saw the letter again. I looked at it a bit closer and suddenly I noticed it was Tom's handwriting. I opened the letter very fast and there was a letter from Tom!
My dearest friend,
I write this letter to you because I have to tell you something very important. I would have told you in person, but I'm afraid you would get angry. For a few years I have known that I'm gay. I'm not attracted to girls at all, and in fact, I like boys. Or to be more precise, I like you. I'm sorry, I can't help it, but I'm in love with you. You are so cute, so nice, that I sometimes have a hard time not ripping your clothes off your body and making long and intense love with you. I suspect this is all very confusing for you, maybe you even consider me a pervert or something, but I need to be honest with you.
Of course I understand that you do not feel the same about me, but please let us talk about this. I hope we can still be friends, even though I love you and you don't love me back the same way, but please lets talk about this.
If we meet next time and you will not talk about this I understand that you think of me as a pervert and we will never see each other again. So let's talk; I know we are close enough friends to survive this.
Goodbye my love,
Tom.
My heart was pounding very hard and I read that letter at least five or six times. I couldn't believe it. Suddenly everything made sense. Tom probably thought I had received his letter and had decided not to talk about it. He thought I considered him a pervert! The thought brought tears to my eyes. I decided I needed to find Tom soon, to explain that I just got his letter and that I did want to talk about that. And more importantly that I love him back.
I called Tom's mum and she gave me his address and telephone number. As it turned out he lived very close by, just a 30 minute drive. I decided to call him and as the phone rang, I was afraid that I might not hear him, because my heart was pounding so hard. When he answered the phone I immediately recognized his voice. I said it was me and Tom wanted to end the conversation right away. I was able to stop him by yelling that I just received his letter and that I loved him back. It was kind of quiet for a while and than Tom asked: "Do you really mean that?" "Yes", I said softly, "Yes I do". Tom wanted to see me right away and we decided that he would come to me. I gave him my address and he said he would be with me in one hour.
An hour passed and another and still there was no sign of Tom. At that point I was pretty sure Tom had changed his mind and that he didn't want to see me after all. I decided to go for a short walk, because I couldn't stand staying inside waiting. Just to be sure, I did put a note on my front door, saying I would be back in 15 minutes, but I didn't really expect him to show up anymore. When I walked down the street I saw that a big accident had occurred. A big truck had pushed a red car off the street. The red car was a wreck and apparently there was still someone in it. I asked a police officer if they knew who was in the car? The policeman answered that it was a guy called Tom. I thought all my blood was drained from my body in 3 seconds. I ran to the car where some firemen were busy cutting the roof, and in the car was Tom. My Tom. His face was very pale and his eyes were closed. I yelled: "Tom, Tom, wake up". But there was no reaction. The firemen wanted to remove me from the scene, but I said I was his brother. I yelled again and than Tom opened his eyes. He looked at me, with his beautiful eyes, with more love than I have ever seen in my life. A faint smile and than he said in a very soft voice: "I love you". I took his hand, which had a lot of blood on it and I said: "I love you too, I love you so much." "You have just made me the happiest man alive" Tom said in a soft voice and then, very slowly, his smile disappeared and the sweet look left his eyes. I started to cry, because I knew right than Tom had died. A paramedic felt his pulse and said to the fireman: "No hurry now, he's gone." I passed out on the road.
Dear Tom,
It has already been 6 months since you died. I still can't believe it happened, just after we had found each other again. I know I need to go on with my life, but it's so hard. I love you so much; sometimes it hurts so much I can only cry.
Yesterday I bought you some sunflowers. I hope you like them. I love sunflowers because they are so nice and yellow. They remind me of you, because you also looked sunny.
But sometimes, when I look at the sun, or the stars, or birds in the sky, I can feel your love surrounding me. I hope you are happy where you are. And although the pain I feel now is great, the knowledge that you love me is so great, that I know I will survive.
Goodbye, My Love. You will always live in my heart.