I Can't Live Without You [BoyXBoy]

Chapter 3

"Gabe, if this is about your dad, then I understand," he says tenderly. "But, babe, let's face it. You like guys. You're gay, like me. And he can't hold you back forever. You're never going to be truly happy until you let him go." There's a pause, and then Alex asks me, "When was the last time your dad told you he loves you?" 

I think hard, even though I know it's no use. I can remember the last time Dad told me how much he hates me. In fact, it was just this afternoon before I left the house to go to the mall with Alex. According to my dad, 'two guys hanging out at the mall is just gay. Before you know it you're just gonna be another fag. 

Mom says to ignore him because he's just too drunk to filter what he's saying. The way I see it, at least I know the truth. At least I know that my sexuality is just going to have to be another secret to keep from him, because in all reality no matter what I do he's always going to hate me. And that's just fine because I'm always going to hate him. He's nothing more than a piece of crap 'dad' who beats his wife and occasionally his son. He doesn't deserve love from anyone. 

"I don't remember." I say to Alex, a bit too harshly. 

He squeezes me and says, "Close your eyes." I do, and he drops his voice to a low murmur. "Imagine us somewhere warm. Somewhere where almost everyone is caring and accepting. Somewhere where the beaches are sandy and the water is warm. A place where you can go swimming with turtles and the fishes are brighter than anything you've ever seen. You got that in your head?" 

I nod into his chest with a smile. "Why am I doing this?" 

"Because I'm going to Hawaii at the end of March, and I want you to come with." 

I turn my head to look at him and excitedly exclaim, "Hawaii?! I've always wanted to go! Wait...is it cool with your parents?" 

"Yeah, they said I could bring a friend. They hinted at you." He smiles a magnificent smile that he only uses with me. "They like you." 

Acting without thinking, I grab his face between my hands, making sure to be gentle. Quickly I bring my mouth to his, feeling the electric shock run through my body as a tingling sensation creeps rapidly down my spine. He pulls me closer and I relax into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He parts his lips slightly and runs his tongue across my bottom lip. As I separate my lips to let him in, the front door opens again. I don't jump out of Alex's arms because I know that it's only Mom at the door. 

"Honey," she says to me. "Your father's awake." 

"Um, okay." I have a sudden urge to run from home. This place is only a hell for me, and that's completely my father's fault. I'd rather be living on the streets with only Mom than stay here any longer. But I know she won't leave him, a problem I'll never be able to solve nor understand. 

"Alex, would you like to stay for dinner?" I furrow my brow in confusion as the words leave her mouth. Why would Mom want him to stay? I guess that Alex could have been right about her possibly liking the idea of me, her son, having a boyfriend. If, of course, Alex could be considered my boyfriend. 

I look up at him and smile. Even though he's unsure of himself, he looks at Mom and says, "If it's not too much trouble for you." 

"Of course not, you're always welcome." She smirks and says, "Besides I can see that I'm interrupting something." She nods her head at us, still frozen in our embrace. "I'm glad I did though, because we wouldn't want your father to be the one to find you." 

"Mom-" I start but she doesn't give me the chance to finish. What would I say, anyway? That I'm sorry for being gay? That I wish I could be normal and love a girl? Why would I say that, when it's not even true? Yes, it's easy to lie to my father because I really couldn't care less about him. But to lie to my mom? I can't do that to her. 

"We can talk later. Just be careful." As she goes inside, she smiles slightly, trying to hide her pain. Pain, everyone knows the feeling. When you stub your toe and can't walk on that foot for hours; when you belly flop the pool from the ten foot diving board; when you twist your ankle in a pot hole, or burn your hand on the stove. Physical pain is everywhere, but what about emotional pain? It's all around us, but people experience it differently. When you were six and your puppy died; when you were fourteen and your mother died; when someone called you fat, or the guilt eating at your conscious for calling someone else fat. 

Some people are lucky, though. Sometimes the death of a loved one is the most emotional pain they've ever suffered from. It picks at them for days. Everything that they see reminds them of the deceased one. Every sight, smell, voice, place. But eventually, time heals the wound. They never forget, but it stops hurting as bad. 

And then there's the kind of pain that never actually stops hurting, like a cut that never stops bleeding. Watching a loved one getting abused, and knowing that there is nothing, absolutely nothing that you can do to help. You can scream, but who's around to hear you? The abused and the abuser. What are they going to do about it though? The abuser will either hurt you also, or tie you up, gag you, and strap you to a chair and make you watch him beat up someone you love. 

Now imagine that the abuser is your father, and the abused is your mother. And you're tied to a chair. You can't move, you can't talk, and you can't look away. It's like a train wreck; no matter how bad it gets, there's something about the tragic-ness of the incident that keeps your eyes glued. Some people don't even have to imagine this scenario, some people understand a little too well. And for those of you who don't, be glad you've never experienced this kind of pain and fear. 

"I should probably tell my parents." Alex says to me now that we're alone again. I agree and regrettably release him from my embrace and take a step back, just in case Dad comes outside.

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