Chapter 4

Back in my apartment Rose pulled me to the couch and put a pillow on her lap, patting it for me to lay my head down. She knew that I wasn't ready to talk yet and was trying to comfort me in the only way she could. I lay on my side, head on the downy pillow, and she began to stroke her fingers through my hair in a soothing motion.

My eyes began to water as my thoughts raced from the past to the future and back again. I had been expecting this day for years. It seemed inevitable. But now that it was here, I realized that I had been holding out hope that it wouldn't come. Yet come it did and there was no changing it.

My Dad died when I was eleven years old. To be more specific, he died on my eleventh birthday. It was the end of his two year battle with cancer and the worst day of my life. Looking back now, I know that it was a blessing of sorts. The treatments he underwent only served to make him weaker and he just wasn't Dad anymore. He was suffering and his death put an end to that pain. But, at the time, I didn't see it that way.

I went into a depression and became a sullen and introverted boy. My friends gave up on me along with everyone else. I became labeled as a slacker by my teachers and my Mom was beside herself with her own grief, not to mention the worry that I was causing her. The future was looking very bleak.

Rose had been my saving grace in those days. She pulled me back out of my shell and forced me to live my life, rather than wallow in despair. After she stood up to James, we began to meet at the park every day. We just clicked. She got me, without my having to explain it to her.

Rose had been through her own set of troubles, before moving into the neighborhood, and had become stronger as a result. She shared that strength with me and became my rescue. We spent the rest of the summer together and have been a united front ever since. I never would have made it, if not for her.

We pushed each other and made each other better. She was everything I could want in a partner or friend. Most people thought we were a couple, especially as we got older. But, not long after my Dad's death, I realized that I was just not into girls. I figured that if Rose didn't do it for me, no girl would.

My sexual orientation remained unspoken between us for years. Rose had tons of boyfriends, but she never bugged me about dating or school dances. I don't know how or when she figured it out, but she did. When I finally came out, as a sophomore in high school, I went to her first. She just gave me a big hug and said, "Oh honey, I know." She stuck by me completely and stood up for me unconditionally. Though, by my high school years, I had physically changed, a lot. Most guys were too intimidated to bother me. I was six foot tall and well-built from my time running track, swimming, and weight lifting. Nobody messed with me, at least not to my face.

I knew not everyone would accept me, but if Rose had rejected me, I would have been lost. She was more accepting than my own mother, although Mom came around after nearly a year. She just didn't understand how such a masculine and "normal" boy could suddenly "become gay." Although she didn't approve of me, at first, she never stopped loving me and treating me with respect. It was my "choice" that she didn't accept, not me.

She began attending a support group and learned a lot. She had grown up in a small mid-western town and had never been faced with anything like this. It took some time, but she came to realize that I did not suddenly become gay, nor was it a decision. It was a part of me and she came to accept and love me fully and is now a strong advocate for the gay community and even runs her own PFLAG chapter.

I always wondered how my Dad would have reacted to the knowledge that his son was gay. I'd like to think that he'd have come to accept me, as Mom had, but of course I have no way of knowing that for sure.

Thinking of Dad made my watery eyes spill over. I knew once the crying started that I wouldn't be able to stop, so I didn't bother trying. Rose continued her gentle ministrations as I let out all the worry and fear through my tears.

I had been taught to do self exams a couple years after my father's death and had done so unfailingly, at least once a month or more, for years. Each time, I was hit with uncontrollable nerves as I faced the possibility of following the same path as my Dad. And each time, I would breathe a sigh of relief and try to push the anxiety to the back of my mind. I tried my best to live in the present, without focusing on what might happen in the future. The future was uncertain and worrying about it wouldn't change it anyhow.

But, last month, I felt something during my self-exam. It was small, barely noticeable really, and I first thought maybe it was in my head. But, instinctively, I knew that it wasn't. I called Rose and she convinced me to call the doctor either way. If I was imagining things, it would be better to feel stupid and laugh about it later, than to overlook it.

Dr. Cullen was one of the best. He was a specialist and had worked closely with my Dad's former doctor. He knew about my situation and gave me my yearly exam and check-up. When I called, my appointment was set up immediately. I had two days to prepare, mentally, for the very real possibility that I too could have cancer.

"Hey," Rose started softly, almost hesitantly. It was so unlike Rose to be uncertain, but this wasn't a normal situation. I turned my head minutely towards her and she gave me a sad smile, as she wiped away some of my tears.

"Come on, Em," she continued. "Let me fix you something to eat and we'll talk?"

I breathed shakily and nodded my head, sitting up. She pulled me in for a tight hug and went off to the kitchen to scrounge something up for us to eat. Not that I had much of an appetite, but I didn't want to worry Rose anymore than I already was.

"So," Rose started as we sat down to eat, "What did Dr. Cullen say?"

This was it. The moment of truth. Once I said it out loud, it would be real. I steeled myself and replied quietly, "It's cancer."