This was actually an assignment for my English class. I do not own the play "Andre's Mother" as it was written by Terrence McNally. Enjoy! :)

Winter

The icy wind roared in his ears and stung his eyes, bit at his cheeks, his nose, making him tremble and clutch even tighter to the porcelain-colored balloon held tightly in his fist. His knuckles turned white as he desperately fought to keep the balloon from flying from his hand. For if it did, it would be too soon - so soon that he would never have another chance to say goodbye. He wasn't ready yet. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to the one man who still claimed his heart and soul, even in death, even from a terrible disease that made him suffer and wither away.

Cal stood alone, overlooking the vast lake before him, smooth as glass despite the freezing wind. The others had left, and he was alone - completely and utterly alone. He could feel it. He couldn't stop the hot tears from welling up and didn't bother to wipe them away as they rolled down his icy cheeks. He sniffled and wiped at his red eyes, preventing fresh tears from escaping. He gulped and tried to compose himself, but it was just too damn hard. How could he expect himself to be alright after he had lost the love of his life?

The sound of faint footsteps made him jump, snapping him out of his reverie.

He turned. There she stood before him, dressed in a long black overcoat with matching black hat and gloves. Andre's mother. Her blue eyes were as tired as his, maybe more. She too clutched a white balloon in her hand.

They merely stood, staring at one another in silence, and then Cal heard himself speak, voice trembling with emotion.

"He died bravely. You would have been proud of him."

She said nothing.

He continued, "I don't understand why you can't approve of me. I loved your son more than anything in the world. Isn't that enough?"

Still silence. She merely glanced at him, a heartbroken and yet somewhat cold expression on her face. She did not approve of the relationship between her son and… that man. Cal swallowed and, without looking back, he walked slowly in the opposite direction.

Perhaps, in time, she would come around and accept him. But for now.. He had someone else in my mind that he needed to speak with.

He trudged slowly through the empty and cold cemetery, the balloon still held tightly in his hand. Finally, he found what he was looking for. Legs trembling, he fell to his knees and his whole body shook with his sobs. He felt his heart split in two and everything within him collapsed. He couldn't - wouldn't - stop the tears from cascading down his cheeks and he gripped his hair until he was almost pulling it as he let himself give in to the grief that was consuming him, suffocating him.

Finally composing himself, he smiled a sad, watery smile as he stroked Andre's name which was engraved on the tombstone.

"Sorry, old friend," he said, "I blew it."

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he pushed himself up and merely stood there for God knows how long, letting himself remember Andre's laughter, his smile, his eyes, the feel of their lips meeting in a passionate kiss…

Swallowing hard, Cal said softly, "I'll always love you, Andre. Never forget that. You were the best person I've ever met, I've ever known. And so," Cal then recited the words of Shakespeare, "Goodnight, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."

With that, Cal loosened his grip on the balloon and, very slowly, felt the string slip through his fingers until it flew up and disappeared into the pure winter sky. Maybe his eyes were deceiving him, but he thought he caught sight of something else, as well.

The other balloon.