Mike
Mike stayed in his bed staring at the ceiling. Even though the white sandy Hawaiian beach was just a few steps from his patio, Mike had no motivation to move from his bed. There was a knock on his hotel door. Mike did not respond.
“Honey, are you ready to go see Mount Kilauea?” his mom said through the door. Mike still did not respond. His parents keep the second room key for each room. He heard the door click and open. He turned on his side away from the door. His mother entered the dark room. “Honey, you haven’t even gotten out of bed!”
Mike had cried himself asleep, but his eyes were still red and swollen when he woke up. He still managed to roll his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do this morning was to have a family outing.
“I don’t feel so well,” Mike mustered. It wasn’t a lie. He was physically exhausted from the grief of knowing Rocco was starting his next adventure in life without him. He knew that once Rocco reached his destination, Mike Barber would be a faint memory compared to all the beautiful Hollywood men Rocco would certainly encounter.
“Oh, honey, what’s going on?” his mother said sitting on the corner of the bed.
“I just feel sick at my stomach,” Mike replied. Again, that wasn’t a lie.
“You must have had something on the plane that didn’t agree with you,” his mother said.
“Can I stay here today?” Mike said. He still had his back turned. “I don’t feel like going on a tour.”
“Of course,” his mother said. “We can do the tour another time if you’d like.”
“No,” Mike replied. “You guys go. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” his mother asked.
“Yeah,” Mike said. “I just need some rest. I’ll be fine tomorrow.” He wasn’t sure if that would be the case, but it at least bought him some time to be sad for today. He just wanted to be alone.
“Okay, honey, I’ll check in when we get back. You can get whatever you want from room service,” his mother said as she got up and left the room.
Mike turned on his back and continued to look at the ceiling. He was sad for what was inevitable. He and Rocco were still officially together. They hadn’t broken up, but Mike knew it was over. It would be better for him to accept that bitter truth now rather than wait until the end of summer. The longer he delayed realizing the end of his relationship with Rocco, the worse the pain would be.
After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, he started to sob violently. It just dawned on him that he would never see, hear, smell, or touch Rocco ever again. This painful realization stabbed his heart like a hot spear. He would never wrap his arms around that sweet skater punk boy. His head started to hurt so he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
He was shaken awake by a knock on the door. Mike had been asleep most of the day. He was starving but had no desire to eat. He rolled over again with his back to the door. It was probably his mother checking in on him again. The knock occurred again.
“I’m still not feeling well,” Mike yelled at the door.
“Mike, it’s Joe. Can I come in?”
Mike turned his head towards the door. He could talk to Joe. Joe knew what was going on with him. Joe had become his shoulder to cry on this past year.
“Hang on,” Mike said mustering up the energy to get out of bed. He only had on a pair of briefs. He put on a shirt and shuffled to the door. He cracked it open and saw Joe standing in the hall with a brown paper bag.
“I thought you’d like something to eat,” Joe said shaking the bag. Mike opened the door to let Joe in. Joe entered the dark room and looked Mike over. Joe knew what was wrong with Mike. “You want to talk about it?”
Mike stood in the doorway and broke down into tears. Joe quietly shut the door and held Mike in his arms while he sobbed. “I know, I know…let it out,” Joe whispered holding Mike. It took a few minutes before Mike gathered the composure to offer Joe a seat.
“It’s over,” Mike said numbly.
“Are you sure?” Joe asked with a caring expression on his face.
“Better now than later,” Mike said.
“I know,” Joe said quietly placing the bag of food on the end table. “It was going to happen sooner or later.”
“I just don’t know how to do it,” Mike quietly said.
Joe looked at him squarely with a quiet resolve. “You don’t have to decide on that right now. What you have to do is live through today.”
Mike looked at Joe with a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“It will come to you later how you want to end it with Rocco. Right now, what you need is someone to tell you how to make it through these next few days until you are in a clearer frame of mind,” Joe said strongly. Mike nodded. That was good advice. He just needed for someone to tell him what to do while he grieved.
“Okay,” Mike said.
“I want you to go take a shower. We are going to take a walk on the beach,” Joe said.
“Okay,” Mike said complying without question.
Mike had to admit the shower and the feel of the warm sand on his feet felt great. Joe led him along the beach without saying a word. They didn’t need to talk. Mike just needed to know that there was someone to help him through this pain. The warm Pacific air gently tossed Mike’s hair about. Mike stopped for a minute and closed his eyes. The smell of the ocean and the warm breeze calmed Mike’s thoughts. In the distance, he heard hula music which must have been for the tourists. Joe stopped without saying anything. He could tell Mike was trying to enjoy the moment.
“Can we get something to eat?” Mike asked opening his eyes. The setting sun covered the two with a golden glow.
“Absolutely!” Joe said. “What do you want?”
“How about something Hawaiian?” Mike asked.
“Sure,” Joe replied with a warm smile. “We’ll see what we can find.”
Over the next couple of days, Mike was starting to feel more like himself. The pain of losing Rocco was still strong, but it didn’t consume his every thought like that first day without Rocco.
One night at dinner, the Barber family were sitting at a table in a restaurant by the beach. The warm night air circulated through the patio as their parent enjoyed Mai Tais. Mike leaned over to Joe while their parents were busy ordering their dinner.
“I think I’ve made a decision,” Mike whispered to Joe without getting their parents attention.
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“What’s that?” Joe replied in a hushed tone.
“I think I’ll write Rocco a letter,” Mike answered.
“You sure about that?” Joe asked.
“Yeah,” Mike replied. “I can’t do it face-to-face.” Joe nodded.
“Do you need some help?” Joe asked.
“No,” Mike said. “I need to do this alone.”
That night in the hotel room, Mike pulled out a piece of stationary from the hotel room desk. He began to write:
Dear Rocco,
By the time you will read this, you will have gotten back from your adventure in LA…
When he finished the letter, he realized he was crying without realizing it. He also realized something else. He was not only consumed with the unmistakable sorrow of breakup. There was also a wistful feeling of remembrance mixed in with his sadness. He could remember the good times he had with Rocco. He realized Rocco would always hold a special place in his heart. Rocco was his first love, his first lover, his first everything. He was grateful for the time they had. The only thing Mike could now was to let Rocco go.
Rocco
It was around 9 pm when Rocco pulled into the apartment. It was a hot, muggy night which he had not been used to. It was surprising how easily he adjusted to the cool, dry Los Angeles nights. Even though he slowly started to experience humidity again once he got close to the Mississippi River, the finality that he was at his destination made his mind fully process how different the climate was.
He was exhausted. He had been on the road today for almost 12 hours covering multiple states without resting aside from bathroom breaks and quick stretches. He just wanted the last leg of his drive back home to be done. His joints cracked when he got out of the car. He decided a few hours ago that he was going to crash on his bed as soon as he got home. He would worry about his suitcase tomorrow.
Rocco’s mom gave him a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek when he walked in the door. Never in his entire life had he been so happy to see his mother. Despite all her flaws, his adventure out west cemented the fact that this was his home. This was where he needed to be until he went away from college. All the phone calls in the world did not make up for seeing his mother standing in front of him.
“Oh my GOD!” his mother exclaimed with tears running down her cheek. “You’ve lost a little weight, and you are so tan!”
“It’s great to see you, Mom,” Rocco said feeling a nostalgic pain run through his heart.
“Let me get a good look at you!” his mother excitedly said. Rocco made a turn as if to model the latest in car travel attire. “You must be exhausted!”
“I am,” Rocco said. “I am dying to lay in my own bed!”
“I bet!” his mother exclaimed.
“Can I tell you all about my trip tomorrow? Right now, I need to decompress,” Rocco said.
“Of course! I just wanted to see you before I went to bed,” Rocco’s mom said and started to go to her bedroom. She stopped when she was at her door and turned to look at him. “It’s so great to see you back home.” She remembered something. “Oh, there’s a package for you. I put it on your bed.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Rocco said and sighed as he opened the door to his bedroom. Seeing his room again released a flood of memories. He remembered all the nights he spent learning to play his guitar sitting in the corner of his room. He remembered the nights of doing what seemed to be endless amounts of homework. He remembered the times he spent with Mike in his bed. Above his bed was Mike’s drawing of him. His bedroom was just as he left it. Even though he had been gone a few weeks, it felt like years.
His eyes landed on the package at the foot of his bed. He sat down on the bed and grabbed the box. It was a large box wrapped in brown craft paper. On the front of the box was an envelope taped to the box. The box had “ROCCO” written in capital letters. Under his name he saw “Read me before opening box”. He recognized the handwriting as Mike’s. He ran his finger over the letters. Perhaps this would answer why he didn’t hear from Mike the entire time he was in Los Angeles.
He pulled the letter off the box and opened the envelope. In it was a one-page letter on hotel stationary written in Mike’s hand. Rocco smiled at seeing the handwriting. He started reading the letter:
Dear Rocco,
By the time you will read this, you will have gotten back from your adventure in LA. I hope you had a fantastic time and that it was all you had hoped for. What I’m about to write is something that I can’t say to you in person. I’m too chickenshit to do this face to face. I couldn’t bear to see your face. Please forgive me for that. It’s been killing me ever since New Years that you are going away to college in the fall. I know we’ve talked about making our relationship work while you are away. I don’t think it would be fair to you to continue. I would be a distraction from your college experience. Ultimately, you would end up resentful for having something that tied you back here. I want you to be free from your obligations. I want you to experience this next chapter in your life without having to worry if I’m okay. I want you to start college with a clean slate. You deserve a fresh start to be a completely new person.
The time we spent together was the time of my life. I learned so much from you which I will take with me for the rest of my life. You will always be my first true love. You will always be my skater punk boyfriend. Inside, you will find the skateboard you gave me for Christmas. I can’t keep it because it will remind me of you every time I use it. Give it the home it deserves. Please do not contact me for a while. This is hard enough for me to write. I don’t think I could handle seeing you right now. I will never forget you, Rocco. Don’t forget me.
I love you,
Mike
The letter dropped out of Rocco’s hand onto the floor. Rocco sat on his bed with his mouth open in shock. Deep down, he knew their relationship was doomed but having a letter in his hand gave it all finality. Rocco ripped open on the box.
Inside was his old skateboard with the Mike’s name painted on the deck. He stared at it for several minutes while the truth of the letter started to sink in. As the words of the letter slowly wormed their way into his psyche, Rocco felt a stab of emotional pain run through his soul. He took the skateboard and held it close to his body. He gasped and looked up. He felt as if this moment were surreal. A heat surged through his body. He heard himself sob. He was trying to keep himself together but failed miserably. He sat hugging his skateboard and was consumed by violent sobbing. Tears started to soak his shirt.
He wanted to scream in pain but didn’t want to wake up his mother. His anger and grief came to a head. He pulled the skateboard away from his body. He let out angry sob after angry sob as he put the skateboard on the floor and stepped in the center of the deck. His intention was to snap it in half. He reached for the edge and pulled up with all his might. He successfully snapped the board with a splintered crack. Wood fragments flew across the room. There was no way he would be able to get on this skateboard ever again without thinking about Mike. It was now a useless pile of wood.
Rocco stared at his broken skateboard for a while mulling over words of the letter. Mike wrote he had been thinking about all of this since New Years. Had he been thinking of breaking up for that long? Was he already checked out of their relationship? Was everything he said New Years just a lie?
Rocco now understood why Mike was so cold on the phone. He wrote this letter on hotel stationary which meant Mike must have made up his mind before Rocco called him. Mike had already moved on. Rocco felt foolish. All those days at the beach wondering which grain of sand had touched Mike’s hand—what a stupid, ridiculous exercise! Rocco wanted to try to keep their relationship going as long as he could, but Mike was already checked out at that point.
Almost in a robotic manner, he went into the bathroom and started to draw himself a bath. Perhaps a warm soak would take away both his muscle soreness and his emotional turmoil. He turned on the water and sat on the closed toilet to watch as the tub filled up with steaming hot water. When it was close to its capacity, he stood and undressed. He dipped his foot in the hot bath. His emotions numbed his senses. The hot water almost scalded his skin. He turned the water off and sat for a few minutes. The facet dripped a few times.
Rocco sat back and stared at the ceiling. The hot bath was beginning to make him sweat. With a quick gasp, Rocco closed his eyes and submerged his head under water. As he laid under the water, a thought passed through his head. What if he just stayed submerged? What if he just let his pain drown? That would show Mike not to play with other people’s feelings.
It took less than a minute before Rocco felt his lungs sending a message to his brain that he needed air. Another few seconds elapsed causing Rocco to open his eyes underwater. His chest was starting to hurt from the lack of oxygen. He could see the ceiling through the water. He tried to remain submerged but couldn’t do it. He sat up and gasped for air. His vision started to darken from the sudden change in both oxygen levels and position. He laughed at the irony. He was going to pass out and drown in the tub as a result of trying to intentionally drown himself. Just as he was about to fall forward from passing out, he leapt out of the tub and onto the floor. He was soaking wet and naked on the bathroom floor. He started to uncontrollably sob into the linoleum.
He laid on the floor for an hour before he finally mustered up the energy to stand up and wrap himself in a towel. He was pretty much dry at this point. He pulled the plug out of the tub and let the water drain. He had cried so much that he had nothing left. His eyes were red and swollen. He walked out of the bathroom and put on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He curled up in his bed and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Rocco spent the remainder of that summer in isolation. He didn’t want to see any of his friends as they enjoyed their last summer before college. He didn’t want to go to the skate park any longer since it would remind him of Mike. He spent the summer numb. In the fall, he gathered himself up and went off to college never looking back at the incredible year he had with his first boyfriend. He just moved forward.