I'm Not Complaining That It's Raining (sequel to Aventures)

Epilogue

My heart stopped. I knew this moment would come, but I didn't expect it to come now. I looked at Brendon, who was smiling warmly, his body inviting me to take the baby.

The lady cleared her throat, and said, "I'll leave you three alone, I'll be back in a few minutes." An with that, she left by the door we came in from.

"I'm... I'm shaking, Brendon, it's not a good idea, I could drop him or-"

"You won't. Look, give me your hand. There."

He placed my arms correctly, before putting the little boy in the crook of my elbow. My left arm was under him, my hand protectively holding his back.

I felt my knees giving up on me, so I stumbled back, and sat heavily on the chair I was sitting on just a few minutes ago. I blinked, staring at nothing in particular in front of me.

Matthew moved his legs inside the blaket, and woke up. I was expecting him to start crying, since I had woken him up. I looked down at him, and my gaze met his big blue eyes. My lips broke in half-smile, and I put my hand back on the small of his back.

"Hey, buddy," I said quietly, my voice shaking a little.

Instead of screaming, of crying and protesting, Matthew simply looked at me. His blue eyes never left mine, and, after a few seconds, he smiled. He smiled like babies do, without pretention or doubt, just a pure, genuine smile. Teethless, but genuine.

Brendon walked to me, and kneeled in front of my chair. "Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"

I nodded, never once breaking the eye contact Matthew and I were having. My eyes got watery, as I admired the pureness and the innocence of the little boy in my arms. The world hadn't broken him yet, he was still so... Innocent. I hadn't witnessed something so beautiful in a while. I wondered if I actually ever did. I doubted it.

I finally looked up at Brendon, my eyes still watery and my lips forming a full, genuine smile. Brendon smiled brightly, and kissed my forehead. "Told you."

I nodded, "you did. Fuck me, you hell of did."

"Watch your mouth," he beamed. "We've got some young ears over here," he nodded at Matthew.

"Oh, sorry. Don't you repeat that, young man," I told Matthew, even though I knew he couldn't understand a word I said. "Not until you're, like, thirty. Those are mean mean words. Only Dad can say things like that," I said, as his tiny hand grabbed Brendon's thumb.

"Dad, huh?"

I smiled, "yeah. You get Daddy, or Papa, or Pops, or whatever, but Dad's taken."

He smirked, "fine. I guess I can deal with Daddy."

I laughed and pecked his lips, being careful not to squeeze Matthew too much.

Brendon's lips left mine after a few seconds, and he pressed his forehead against mine. He put his right hand behind my neck and his left one on Matthew's head. We were one.

"Why that smile, Ry?"

I shook my head, my eyes never leaving Matthew. "Nothing. I'm just happy."

...

Within the years, I realized a whole lot of things. Growing old has perks, after all. I learned, inter alia, that blood isn't family. I knew that, way before we adopted Matthew, but now this theory is just... More concrete.

Matthew will never be my biological son. I will never be his biological father. But, as Matthew grew up, I realized that I was more of a father to him, than mine ever was to me. And than his ever was to him. Matthew and I have that in common. Our blood-related family is not our real family.

Maybe this is the moral of all this. Maybe it is that blood isn't family.

I hope Matthew learns that, in the coming years. He can barely walk, but he's intelligent. He'll understand.

Brendon and I are good. We don't sleep much, since there's a little boy in the house who thinks sleep is overrated, but we deal. Matthew is good too. He grows up insanely fast. He walks clumsily, but he's getting there. He says basic words like "Dad", "Daddy", "play", or "singsong", but he masters baby language like a complete pro. That, he does.

As I write this, Brendon is putting Matthew to bed. He sings him to sleep everynight. He's an awesome father, really.

Even though I still highly fear my potential of becoming an horrible father, I'm less nervous around Matthew. I used to never walk around the house with him in my arms, scared to drop him, to never drive over twenty miles an hour when he was in the car, scared to have an accident, and to always make Brendon feed, change, and clean him, too scared to hurt him. Now that I know Matthew is my son, and that I can be a decent father, I help Brendon more. The poor man had to do everything.

We released the album a few months ago, fans loved it. With Matthew being with us now, we had to quit touring for a little while. Brendon didn't want to hire someone to take care of him for entire months, and there was no way I was leaving my son for a tour. Nope.

When I look back at things, I see how much I've changed, how much I've grown. How much I've learned.

See, welcoming people in your life is difficult. I struggled alot while dating Brendon, and God knows how I struggled when it was time Matthew came into our lives. But, in the end, it's all worth it.

Pain and struggle are a part of life you have to deal with. It's difficult, but light always ends up coming back. It's fate.

I'm happy. I don't see why I wouldn't be. I'm complete. With these guys in my life, I'm complete. I can never say how much they both mean to me. They're my family, and I promised myself I would do anything in order to protect them. Anything.

Now it is time for me to drop the pen. My son is crying, so I admit Brendon's voice didn't work to put him to sleep tonight.

The only thing there is to remember from this story, is that, no matter who you are, and what you believe in, the most important thing is to be yourself, no matter what your relatives might think. Because blood isn't family.

Family is who and where you want it to be. It's the people and the things that matter to you, it's the things that you believe in and the people who inspire you to be who you are.

Home is where love is. Family is where love grows.