Marco spent a few days in thought before finally deciding he had to
see Dylan. It would be difficult for him, he knew that, but it didn't
matter. When Marco had been in any type of trouble, emotional or physical,
Dylan stood up for him and it was Marco's turn to reciprocate the favor.
Walking up to Dylan's front porch was an emotionally rattling experience. He'd stood there countless times before, but he never felt like he shouldn't knock. He didn't know how to confront Dylan's parents and he wasn't sure he wanted to. No, it wasn't his fault that Dylan was sick, but maybe they would think something outlandish, like all gay people were evil because one hurt Dylan.
Finally, Marco rang the doorbell. He took small, nervous paces and the door finally opened. It was Mrs. Michalchuck.
"Marco, hi," she said smiling.
"Hey, Mrs. M, how are you?" Marco said with a sense of relief in his voice. She didn't seem mad or upset.
Mrs. Michalchuck shrugged her shoulders and replied, "I'm okay. It's been a rough time for us, you know?"
Marco's eyes filled with concern. "I know. I'm sorry, Mrs. M," Marco said.
"Well, thank you, but you have no need to be. You didn't do anything. You didn't bring this into our life. It was here before you."
"I know, but." Marco began.
".but, nothing," Mrs. Michalchuck finished. "Please, Marco, we appreciate it, but you don't need to work yourself over it. It's nothing major yet."
Marco nodded slowly and then looked up. "Is Dylan home?"
She nodded. "Yeah, he is. He's in his room, same place he's been for a while. Maybe you can get him to come out. He needs some fresh air."
"I'll do my best, but I don't know-he's a stubborn soul, you know?" Marco chuckled.
"Oh, believe me," Mrs. Michalchuck said with a laugh, "I know. Go on back and try to change it."
"Will do."
Marco made his way down the hallway and knocked on the door to Dylan's room.
"It's open," he heard Dylan's voice say.
Marco pushed the door open slowly and peeked inside.
"Mind if I come in?" Marco asked slowly and quietly.
Dylan was sitting at his desk thumbing through a book. He turned around, looking slightly startled, and saw Marco.
"Hey Marco, come on," Dylan said. He shut the book he was reading and turned off the desk lamp. There was enough light coming through the window to keep the room bright, but he had needed the lamp for some vision problems. "Or, if you want, you can stay in the doorway and that way, if you get scared, you can run off again like the other day."
Marco felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He felt his eyes start to well up with tears. He couldn't believe Dylan had said it. He started to respond with something vicious, but he quickly closed his mouth when he remembered the situation at hand. He couldn't fault Dylan for anything at this moment. In retrospect, Marco knew he had acted a little irrationally, but he knew no other way to react. Leaving was what he felt was necessary.
Dylan saw the hurt in Marco's eyes and he closed his eyes regretfully. "I'm sorry, Marco," Dylan said. "I didn't mean for that to come out that way."
"No, no, it's okay," Marco said, trying to hold back the tears.
"No, it's not," Dylan said. "It's not okay that I said it, but you have to understand why I did it." He noticed Marco was still standing in the doorway, so he took him by the hand and they both sat down on the foot of the bed.
"Dylan, you don't owe me any explanation."
"Yes, I do. Listen, when I came out, a lot of people turned their backs on me. I lost a lot of friends. Yeah, I kept a lot of great ones, and I was so happy to finally be out, but still, I felt a lot of people had turned their backs on me. Then, I met you, Marco. And, I mean, like I said, I was happy before, but when I met you, something clicked inside me-I finally felt real. I knew I was different from everyone, but I didn't care. You were the first person who let me be me completely. And then, this happened, and you ran off, and well, you know." His voice trailed off.
"Dylan, I left because I was scared. You're the most important person in my life. What if.what if you."
"What if I die?" Dylan finished the sentence.
"Well, yeah," Marco said.
"It's a little too early to pick out my burial plot," Dylan said with a laugh. "Magic Johnson: he's been living with HIV for years. I can live with this. I don't have AIDS yet, man."
"Are you not scared of this?" Marco asked.
"I'm terrified," Dylan admitted. "But, I know that there is nothing on earth that lasts forever. Everything has an ending, even though there's a different path for every person and every thing to get to that ending. Maybe this will kill me, I know. But, maybe it won't.
"Marco, we have something great now. We honestly do. Please, don't spoil this for me, don't spoil what we have at the moment by being scared about the future. If you want to be scared of anything, be scared of the fact that I love you. Be scared of the fact that I've never said that to you or anyone before and be scared of the fact that our relationship has been taken to another level and we never know where it will go. Be scared of all that but don't be scared of my health. Don't."
Marco's eyes grew wide. "You love me?"
Dylan smiled and nodded. "Scary, huh?"
Marco laughed and said, "Terrifying. I love you, too."
Their eyes met and for a moment, the sickness that Dylan had seemed less important. At that moment, they realized how right they were for each other. No, it wouldn't be easy. No, it wouldn't be accepted by society. But, when had anything the two of them done ever been accepted. They both knew that, no matter what, they had someone to run to.
[And, so, that does it. The last chapter was beyond weak, I know, but I'm not good at wrapping things up and I couldn't leave it open-ended. I'm sorry to disappoint, but, it's been fun writing-I hope everyone has enjoyed it. Email me at powerofthefist@charter.net with questions, comments, etc. or you can reach me over AIM at IceCrmKila. I look forward to from you all. Again, sorry for the let-down here, but, it's the best I could do.]
Walking up to Dylan's front porch was an emotionally rattling experience. He'd stood there countless times before, but he never felt like he shouldn't knock. He didn't know how to confront Dylan's parents and he wasn't sure he wanted to. No, it wasn't his fault that Dylan was sick, but maybe they would think something outlandish, like all gay people were evil because one hurt Dylan.
Finally, Marco rang the doorbell. He took small, nervous paces and the door finally opened. It was Mrs. Michalchuck.
"Marco, hi," she said smiling.
"Hey, Mrs. M, how are you?" Marco said with a sense of relief in his voice. She didn't seem mad or upset.
Mrs. Michalchuck shrugged her shoulders and replied, "I'm okay. It's been a rough time for us, you know?"
Marco's eyes filled with concern. "I know. I'm sorry, Mrs. M," Marco said.
"Well, thank you, but you have no need to be. You didn't do anything. You didn't bring this into our life. It was here before you."
"I know, but." Marco began.
".but, nothing," Mrs. Michalchuck finished. "Please, Marco, we appreciate it, but you don't need to work yourself over it. It's nothing major yet."
Marco nodded slowly and then looked up. "Is Dylan home?"
She nodded. "Yeah, he is. He's in his room, same place he's been for a while. Maybe you can get him to come out. He needs some fresh air."
"I'll do my best, but I don't know-he's a stubborn soul, you know?" Marco chuckled.
"Oh, believe me," Mrs. Michalchuck said with a laugh, "I know. Go on back and try to change it."
"Will do."
Marco made his way down the hallway and knocked on the door to Dylan's room.
"It's open," he heard Dylan's voice say.
Marco pushed the door open slowly and peeked inside.
"Mind if I come in?" Marco asked slowly and quietly.
Dylan was sitting at his desk thumbing through a book. He turned around, looking slightly startled, and saw Marco.
"Hey Marco, come on," Dylan said. He shut the book he was reading and turned off the desk lamp. There was enough light coming through the window to keep the room bright, but he had needed the lamp for some vision problems. "Or, if you want, you can stay in the doorway and that way, if you get scared, you can run off again like the other day."
Marco felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He felt his eyes start to well up with tears. He couldn't believe Dylan had said it. He started to respond with something vicious, but he quickly closed his mouth when he remembered the situation at hand. He couldn't fault Dylan for anything at this moment. In retrospect, Marco knew he had acted a little irrationally, but he knew no other way to react. Leaving was what he felt was necessary.
Dylan saw the hurt in Marco's eyes and he closed his eyes regretfully. "I'm sorry, Marco," Dylan said. "I didn't mean for that to come out that way."
"No, no, it's okay," Marco said, trying to hold back the tears.
"No, it's not," Dylan said. "It's not okay that I said it, but you have to understand why I did it." He noticed Marco was still standing in the doorway, so he took him by the hand and they both sat down on the foot of the bed.
"Dylan, you don't owe me any explanation."
"Yes, I do. Listen, when I came out, a lot of people turned their backs on me. I lost a lot of friends. Yeah, I kept a lot of great ones, and I was so happy to finally be out, but still, I felt a lot of people had turned their backs on me. Then, I met you, Marco. And, I mean, like I said, I was happy before, but when I met you, something clicked inside me-I finally felt real. I knew I was different from everyone, but I didn't care. You were the first person who let me be me completely. And then, this happened, and you ran off, and well, you know." His voice trailed off.
"Dylan, I left because I was scared. You're the most important person in my life. What if.what if you."
"What if I die?" Dylan finished the sentence.
"Well, yeah," Marco said.
"It's a little too early to pick out my burial plot," Dylan said with a laugh. "Magic Johnson: he's been living with HIV for years. I can live with this. I don't have AIDS yet, man."
"Are you not scared of this?" Marco asked.
"I'm terrified," Dylan admitted. "But, I know that there is nothing on earth that lasts forever. Everything has an ending, even though there's a different path for every person and every thing to get to that ending. Maybe this will kill me, I know. But, maybe it won't.
"Marco, we have something great now. We honestly do. Please, don't spoil this for me, don't spoil what we have at the moment by being scared about the future. If you want to be scared of anything, be scared of the fact that I love you. Be scared of the fact that I've never said that to you or anyone before and be scared of the fact that our relationship has been taken to another level and we never know where it will go. Be scared of all that but don't be scared of my health. Don't."
Marco's eyes grew wide. "You love me?"
Dylan smiled and nodded. "Scary, huh?"
Marco laughed and said, "Terrifying. I love you, too."
Their eyes met and for a moment, the sickness that Dylan had seemed less important. At that moment, they realized how right they were for each other. No, it wouldn't be easy. No, it wouldn't be accepted by society. But, when had anything the two of them done ever been accepted. They both knew that, no matter what, they had someone to run to.
[And, so, that does it. The last chapter was beyond weak, I know, but I'm not good at wrapping things up and I couldn't leave it open-ended. I'm sorry to disappoint, but, it's been fun writing-I hope everyone has enjoyed it. Email me at powerofthefist@charter.net with questions, comments, etc. or you can reach me over AIM at IceCrmKila. I look forward to from you all. Again, sorry for the let-down here, but, it's the best I could do.]