The rain took a deadly fall on St. Cecelia's grounds. The alumni of the Catholic boarding school studied the new rebellion of students running around in the rain. They whispered to each other underneath some old and forgotten bleachers, that however, held many memories to them and their four-year stay at St. Cecelia's.
"It's been eighteen years. I can't believe it."
"Nor can I. It seems like just yesterday we were auditioning for Romeo and Juliet."
"Or planning for the rave.."
"Yeah."
The three figures in black stood still, watching their friend leaning in front of a tombstone. The only tombstone at St. Cecelia's.
...
Peter stepped through the muddy grass, an umbrella in hand and a clenched fist in the other. His friends were behind him, but he still wouldn't let them see his tears.
As he approached the tombstone, he was hit with memories of his Senior year at the school. And they were all of him, and Jason. Jason. His lover, his friend, his tomorrow. Their best kept secret, and yet, they're best kept secret. Or, they were, back when homosexuality was less accepted.
"Hey, Jason. It's me, Peter. I know it's been a while, eighteen years, actually. I'm sorry I didn't visit earlier, I really wanted to, okay? I just- I just thought I could move on. They told me I could, and yet, here we are. Trauma, drama, stupidities in our youth that took a turn for the worse, and now we're here. At least, I wish you were here." He took a deep breath, fighting the bleariness in his eyes. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you. I'm sorry I didn't run away with you. I'm sorry for everything, Jason. Sometimes I wonder if not being friends with you could've prevented your death, albeit I wouldn't trade what we had for the world."
Peter took the time to observe the gravestone a little closer. The hurtful words and graffiti on it that were there after their graduation, were now gone. Instead, there were flowers scattered all around it, creating a sort of shelter for damp post it notes with faded messages on them. His interest was piqued, and so he tried to read some of them out to Jason. "'They shouldn't punish us for who we are. Your going will not be in vain,' Marissa, 2005. 'I feel the pressure and social constructs that the world has built around you, for the world did the same to me. My heart goes out to you for your courage and message to us all,' James, 2008. 'LGBTQ representatives are more accepted now, though the whole concept fits loosely around the minds of the close-minded and the old-fashioned. Yet, us youth are more appreciative of the stand, of the movement. You could say in this school, in this area, your story has went around and inspired us all. Everyone knows of your hidden love, just like the one of Romeo and Juliet...'" Uncontrollable sobs racked his body, and he caved into the melancholy. A stream of wet tears left a trail on his cheeks.
'Best friends playing best friends.' 'True love lasts forever...' 'God, Jason. You're flying.'
"'Sincerely, the secret LGBTQ community, 2013.' Look Jase, look at how many people you inspired. We, inspired. Maybe our love wasn't best kept secret after all.."
"Peter! Peter, come on in, we're going to meet Sister Chantelle."
"Just a sec, I'll be right there. Go in without me."
His friends disappeared inside the building, leaving him with nothing but memories of his once-upon-a-time ever after, that quickly dissipated into a lifeless dream.
"You know, Jason, we were supposed to be together.
Forever, You and I."