I didn't think the pain would erupt from my torn open heart yet. I thought I could take it. I guess I was wrong…

It feels as if I'm freezing from the outside in. The aching hangs over me like bad luck. I'm starting to ask myself more often, "What do I have to live for?"

December 21, 1990, 7AM Eastern Standard Time from here on in, I walk through a lonely graveyard. I'm stopping here on my way to the hospital to see Roger. He's well… it's complicated. I'll get to that later. Right now, my mind is blurring with images of my deceased friends. The path in front of me becomes memory lane. I can almost feel them in my presence… Absentmindedly, I stumble. As I catch myself, my eyes rest upon the grave in front of me: MIMI MARQUEZ. Bending down, my warm glove gently rests on her tombstone. My mind takes me back to that night…that night where she barely made it.

A few days after Mimi survived the cold, she got a serious infection and she passed on in her sleep. It was like a trance. Collins called me while I was visiting my parents in upstate New York. The phone slipped out my hand like butter when he said Mimi died. It was inevitable, but I couldn't grasp it. I sprung out to my car like a bullet from a gun. I could never remember the drive home. I was too busy convincing myself that she'd come back for us. For Roger. Roger. All I can remember is seeing Roger storming out of the hospital. He looked like a mess. You could see the life was torn out of him.

"Roger!" I yelled, as he was frantically running to his car. He didn't even acknowledge me. "Roger! Please!" With every ounce and drop of energy I ran over before he was able to get into the car. "Roger…you shouldn't be driving."

"Get out of my damn way, Mark. I'm done." You could hear the pain in his voice.

"Can we please just talk…I know you miss her…" I tried to reason with him.

"There is NOTHING for me to live for, everyone I love is gone and I will be soon. I might as well just speed up the process." He tried to brush past me, but I wouldn't let him.

"What about me, Roger? You have me. And if you were gone, my life would be empty." I shook; these words made me break and finally unleash my waterworks.

"Shut up, Mark."

"Roger, you are more than my best friend. You're like my brother. The fact that your disease will take you away one day hurts as is, please don't kill yourself." I was crying now, and I looked like an idiot I knew it.

Roger stood quietly for a few minutes, trying to absorb the words. Finally he spoke, "I'm afraid of death, but I will do anything for a slight chance to see Mimi again."

"Dying in America at the end of the millennium. We're dying in America to come into our own. And when you're dying in America, at the end of the millennium, you're not alone." My voice was shaking

I wrapped my arms tightly around Roger. "You're not alone." I whispered into his ear. The words got him. To this day, I fathom that is what kept him from suicide.

A few months later, Collins claimed Angel was calling him. He said she wanted him, and it was time for them to meet again. Roger, Maureen and Joanne all thought he was just being crazy old Collins. I knew what he meant.

Collins conditions worsened. We tried to pretend it would pass, but who were we kidding? Strange, huh? Angel dies. Mimi dies. Now it's Collins turn. They say HIV patients can have as much as ten years to survive before they start to succumb to AIDS. Why, then are all of my friends dropping like flies? Angel got cancer, Mimi was living on the street. Collins, on the other hand, was a little bit different. When we finally took him to the hospital, we learned that he stopped taking all of his medication. Naturally, I approached him and asked why. He simply told me that he did it for Angel. He wanted to see her again. Collins stood no chance without the AZT. A few days later, he died from a high fever. Some may call it suicidal. I simply say it was a result of love and giving up. Collins knew he would ultimately lose, so he thought, why try? Why would he try when it would only keep him away from Angel? This mentality was adopted by Roger a little while later.

Sunshine bathes me in its warmth. I try to form a smile. It's impossible. All I can do is sigh and murmur, "No day but today, Mimi." I headed back towards the East Village, but then I remember Angel. I promised myself I wouldn't visit her grave if I visited Mimi's, and vice versa. I knew the pain would be too intense and it would make me have to face the realization that I'm losing everyone I care about. It's so hard not to even look at her grave. I slowly make my way down the path, to her grave. I stand in front and I force myself to look. I refuse to remember that awful night, and think about her. It hurts like a knife wound. Not that I would know. Instead, I say a little prayer and head to the hospital. Honestly, seeing Roger in this condition is probably the worst of it all. He is the last. Last of all my friends to die of this horrid disease. However, there will be many more after him. Fighting, suffering, and dying.

It saddens me to believe it, but Roger is next on death row. I'm heading to the hospital to see him. I'm not anxious, though. I know he'll be sitting on that bed waiting for me. I know he just wants to give up and go, but a part of him can't. It's me. He's afraid that I wouldn't be able to handle it and quite frankly, I really couldn't.

I couldn't sleep well for some reason. My body kept tossing and turning and every time I closed my eyes, my body would jolt awake. Suddenly, I heard heavy and thick coughing coming from the bathroom. I sat up, listening closely. Tired and weary, I dragged myself towards the bathroom. As I opened the door, I muttered, "Roger, are you oka-" I shifted back as I saw him coughing up blood into the toilet. "Roger…"

"It's time Mark..." He said in between coughs. My eyes filled with tears.

Two weeks back, Roger was diagnosed with AIDS. It finally came. When I actually thought his HIV would stay static…a miracle…it didn't. I was living in a bubble, pretending Roger would stay with me and we'd actually grow old together. After he was diagnosed, Roger turned back into the person before he met Mimi, but worse. He refused to take any more AZT. He didn't even want to eat. Sometimes he wouldn't even talk to me. He kept begging the lord to take him next. He just couldn't stand waiting around to die.

I took Roger to the hospital that night. I remember the whole backseat was filled with blood from his coughing. What killed me the most was seeing him cry. The only time I ever really saw Roger really cry, since we were kids, was when Mimi died. This time it was worse. He was screaming and wincing in pain. It tore my heart to pieces. I wanted to help him so bad; to the point where I'd trade my health with his. I could barely get him into the emergency room, his body was falling apart. Pneumonia. With the AIDS, his body couldn't stand a chance. I knew this was the end. No matter how hard I wished, no matter how hard I prayed, he'd be gone.

Since then, I visited Roger every single day. I even fell asleep next to his bedside and slept there until the visiting hours were over. Funny. I always thought that if I squeezed his hand, I could keep him here with me just a little bit longer.

The hospital hallway seemed longer every time. I don't know if it was the memories or the fear of what to expect when I went to see Roger. The nurses knew me pretty well by now. I gave them a cheap smile and said hello. Room 409. I walked in.

"Hey." My voice was shaky.

"Hey Mark." Roger smiled upon my appearance. It was stupid but it really brought joy to me to see that smile. Knowing that this is probably the only time he smiles and it won't be around for long.

I sat next to his bedside and watched him breathing. I pay attention to every little thing he does now, knowing it may be the last time I see it. "I'm not gonna ask you how you are feeling because I'm not some cliché phony and I know you probably feel crappy." It felt good to talk to him like it was the old times.

Roger managed a giggle. "You're such a loser."

I managed to really smile for the first time in a while.

"Mark…" Roger whispered. I nodded. "Can you please do me a favor?"

"Sure man, do you need your pillow lifted or…"

"No. I need you to do something else for me. Will you? Even if it's difficult?"

"Of course." I said right away.

"I need you to accept that I will be gone soon. I want this all to end but it can't unless I know you are okay." His ocean eyes stared right through me. It hurt like hell. I knew this was like asking me to describe the color of the sky: impossible but I had to do it for him.

"I will." I looked back at him with promise. "I promise."

"Thank you." Roger said quietly. "And thank you for always being there for me…without you I wouldn't have made it this far."

All I could do was smile. He was making this parting harder.

"You're gonna go far in life, Mark. You'll be so successful and soon you won't even remember that stupid, crappy apartment." Roger's voice was becoming lower.

"That place is loaded with memories. No matter what happens, I am not letting go of it."

With that, I stayed there the whole day. I didn't even go home to eat or anything. We just talked. The night came and we both fell asleep. I felt a tap on my shoulder. Waking up, I blinked. "Hey…sorry…" I yawned. "I'll get going." Looking over at the clock, I became puzzled. 8:20PM. visiting hours end at 10PM. The nurse looked at me with the saddest eyes.

"Mark…you don't have to go." She gestured over to Roger. His heart monitor was turned off. The end. The battle had ended.

"Is…is he really gone?" My heart sunk as the nurse nodded. She walked out, giving us one last moment. This was it. I didn't know what to think or say. Never again would I hear his voice.

"There is no future. There is no past. Thank God I have these memories to last." I whispered, before taking his ring and exiting the hospital room for good.