Yle and Will

Kyle POV

Before my best friend William came out to me then told me that he loved me, I was quite willing to live life as a straight guy. Of course I wasn't, but I was so scared of my own feelings and what my parents would say, that I was prepared to live the lie. That was until William kissed me, and it reawakened all these feelings that I had damped down. That one simple act of realization, made me realize I would much rather be true to myself and experience love than to hide from it forever.

Then he went away for a year, without knowing how I felt, leaving me to sort out my feelings and learn to accept who I really was. To say my parents were unhappy with my coming out would be an understatement. They sent me to a psychiatrist, a psychologist, a priest even. They also demanded that I not have anything to do with William. That was the longest year in my life. Then William was back, and we made up for lost time, much to the horror of my parents. Thankfully, William and his family provided much of the support I needed.

Everyone knew that my parents never forgave me for being gay. My closest friends and William's family became my own family. My parent's and I kept up polite appearances but I never quite stopped seeking their approval wanting the easy relationship we had shared. They made it clear though, that as long as I was living this lifestyle, as if it were a choice, they could not support me. My parents stopped shy of disowning me, but it always felt like it. Imagine how awkward it would be to visit your parents as a guest in their house while actually living only a few feet away next door. Unfortunately, trying became too hard, and not being a part of each other's lives became the easiest way for me to have a better life.

Eventually in the middle of our junior year at York, William and I got an apartment together ten minutes away from campus. It just didn't seem right to live as a couple at William's house. Besides, his dad had stricter rules than we thought. Besides, he would support us if we kept our grades up. Will and I got even closer living together, and it always amazed me that I could find something new to love about William every day. Those years were anything but easy though, but we managed. Between juggling school and his games and jobs and our friends, it felt like we were barely hanging on at times. We made it work and came out stronger as a couple for it.

William's passion was baseball he lived and breathed it. His dream was to play professionally. He was scouted heavily and at the end of our senior year was farmed to the minors double A team, as a second baseman for the Richmond Braves. There was frequent travel and long times spent away from each other, but I made the five hour trip to Virginia for games as often as I could.

Things were going great for me as well, I was doing an internship through the American Institute of Graphic Arts and I was being looked at for a Junior Designer position within my firm. We were able to move to a bigger place more convenient to work for me and further away from the college scene. We were happy and deliriously in love. But always when things are lined up just right there comes a curveball to upset the flow.

The call about William came late one afternoon. He was accidentally hit in the head during practice and had suffered a brain hemorrhage. By the time his dad, brother and I got there he was already in the OR. We were told that he had also suffered a stroke, and the immediate surgery was needed to ease the pressure on his brain. We waited, each of us leaning on each other as needed. I was shattered, my world crumbling inside. I wished I could have held William's hand and let him know we were all here rooting for him. I wanted to just hold him.

We waited for hours and finally the doctor came out. William was going to be okay. We just all hugged each other ad shed the tears we were too afraid to before. His recuperation would be long, but he was going to be okay. A month later we flew Will home. He was to undergo physical and occupational therapy for any lingering weakness. We were also warned on the possibility of seizures. The months that followed were an exercise in fortitude.

William was not dealing well with his injury or the fact that he would not play baseball again. That was to be expected, and that I understood but the rest was just unbearable. He was acting indifferent to me, and snapped at anyone who offered advice. Long days turned into even longer nights. I could no longer sleep in our bed since that made him anxious. He was always too tired from PT to see his father when he came to visit and even his brother Kevin could not get through to him. I tried everything I knew and nothing worked. Then I suggested a therapist or psychologist. It was as if I offered him a first class one way ticket to hell. He barely looked at me when I walked into the room. We barely spoke. Everyone said to give it time. I missed him, his touch, holding hands, kissing him. I missed my love and every night I had to sleep apart from him was hell.

Then one day I came home to laughter. I was excited and curious, thinking that the PT guy had finally broken Will. I made my way to our room and was shocked still at the sight before me. Neil, one of Will's teammates was sitting on the side of our bed, his hand resting casually on Will's thigh. There was so much innuendo in that touch, like a line just begging to be crossed. My heart crumpled in on itself as I watched. They were so involved that they didn't even notice me. We knew each other our whole lives but we were only lovers for the past four. The first year was tentative at best. There was no real navigation of typical relationship woes or ex- boyfriend drama. We had always only loved each other. I recognized immediately that this thing that I felt burning in the pit of my belly had a name and it was jealousy.

I questioned Will about Neil later as we sat watching TV. "So, Neil seems to be what the doctor ordered." Maybe not so much of a question after all.

"Passive aggressive," he drawled, "But yes, Neil is great to have around." He kept staring at the tube.

"As opposed to having me around? I try to give you everything you need. Everything you ask for Will." Something in my voice must have caused him to look over at me. "It felt good to hear you laugh. Why can't I make you laugh like that?"

"For fuck sake Kyle, it's not about you! It's not about what you do or can't do. Don't you get that?" He yelled, which made me yell right back.

"Then tell me William! Tell me what it is about. Clue me the fuck in."

This brought about the mother of all arguments and ended when he accused me of trying to ruin the one thing that was making him happy. That hurt, because that one thing was supposed to be me. I was never more grateful for the comfort of the spare room.

Neil came around more and more, Unaware or not caring about the tension he created. Will and I ignored each other when we weren't picking fights. Something we never did on such a grand scale. Our fights were always about who forgot to pick up the milk, or put out the garbage, pay a bill or laundry left on the floor. Now we were attacking each other with words meant to hurt. I felt us slip away from each other and I was powerless to stop it. Then came the day Will announced that he was moving to New York with Neil. He felt that he needed time to heal and that he could not do it with everyone, me included, always hounding him, and looking over his shoulder. He decided that we needed space. Just like that, the bottom fell out from under me. I cried, I begged, I promised to be better, do better, but he left anyway.

In the three months that followed I existed. With no indication as to when he planned on coming back, I threw myself into work and tried to live apart from William. His emails which meant to update, seemed distant and clinical. They hurt more than they helped but I read them scanning each line for a clue as to when my life would return to me.

Our friends meant well and stopped in frequently to make sure I was doing well. Finally, his dad advised me to use this time to get to know who I was without William, but he let me know he thought Will was being selfish and immature. I tried, and I almost succeeded at some normalcy, when the grim reaper struck again. This time, a drunk driver had run a light and plowed into my parent's car sending them careening over an embankment. They died instantly.