Date: Mon, 26 Jan 2009 15:21:51 -0500
From: Blonde Blue eyes <blondeblueeyes@gmail.com>
Subject: True Love 12

      At that point I just couldn't move anymore, I really just didn't know
what to do, I didn't know what I was going to hear, I don't think I could
handle anything else.  If there was one more word of bad news I knew that I
was pretty much just going to self destruct.  I looked up at the guy and
said to him, `Look I don't need to know anything other than this, is he
going to live?, was there any permanent damage? And when can I see him?'
The guy just looked at me and responded `He is extremely weak, I believe
that he will be OK now, I won't lie to you and tell you that everything is
perfect, there's a lot that has to be watched, and I hope and believe he
will pull through, and be able to live again on his own, but it's going to
take time, effort and patience, but I really do think he can do it.'  And
with that he walked away, I just sat there and wondered what the hell it
was that I did to deserve all this.  But I also made a decision at that
point. The man is once again basically clinging to life by a thread, I was
going to be the selfish shit that I am and tell him how I still felt,
because if I didn't and heaven forbid he did not make it through, I would
never forgive myself for at least letting him remember how much I really
did love him.

      At that point I didn't really care what the regulations were about
visitors, I was walking into that ICU to see him no matter what, and I did
just that.  I found his bed and walked over, surprisingly enough he was
awake, I got to look into his beautiful eyes once again, I took and held
his hand and just stared for a while without saying anything, looked into
him and into his soul, and tried to read it, feel his feelings, see what he
was seeing.  And for the first time in quite a while, in holding his hand
it felt warm, felt as if there was life in it -- that hasn't been there
in months, in fact longer than I can remember.  I finally looked up at him
for real saw his face, his soul maybe strong, and his will is there, but
it's obvious his body is tired and been through quite a lot.  Just as I was
about to say something he beat me to it, and in almost a whisper said to me

      `Michael, I promise that I'm going to be OK now, trust me, but I want
you to go home and get me something. I'll tell you exactly where it is, all
you have to do is go back to the house, get it and bring it back to me
here.  I know that you don't want to leave, and that means more to me than
anything you could ever imagine, what you have been doing, and how you have
acted and handled everything is just absolutely amazing to me, and I love
you for it more than you could ever know.  So trust me when I tell you that
I'm going to be fine now, and I will get better and I'll fight and work
until the day that we can walk out of here to go back to the house. And
with you here I'm even more confident that I can and will do it.'

      Now that was something I was not expecting to hear at all.  It was
almost as if he had planned the entire thing, that he had all of this in
his mind, for longer than the time he came out of the last surgery.  There
was something in my head telling me that there was much more to this than I
had originally realized. I wasn't sure what exactly, but there was
definitely something.  And now I wanted to know what.  I looked back at him
and said, `OK, but cant it wait until later, I want to be able to spend
more than 10 minutes with you while you're awake and talking and not going
anywhere.  And you better damn well not pull anything else.  Because, I'm
getting to the point now where I'm ready to kill you myself.'  He looked
back at me, squeezed my hand and laughed and again told me not to worry
that he was going to be fine now and was going to concentrate on moving
forward not backward. So I finally agreed, and asked him what it was that I
was looking for and getting for him, and according to him it was nothing
more than a little box, that was in the bottom left drawer in his night
table.  As I got up to leave, I contemplated telling him what I was
originally going to but again decided against it, and just said `I love you
daddy, and don't pull any shit while I'm gone.'  Again he looked back at me
smiled and said `I love you too Mikey, and I promise I won't.'

      As I walked out of the room, I realized that he had called me `Mikey'
again.  The last time he did that was before any of this happened, right
when he told me at the door that he was lonely.  Something was definitely
up, I wasn't sure what, but something, and as I got into the car, it was
then that I started to wonder what the hell was in this so called `box'.
Like, how little was it, what could it possibly be, a ring? No that
wouldn't make any sense at all.  Papers of some sort, possible, but those
wouldn't be in a little box.  Money, possible, but wouldn't really make
sense for right now. And the more I thought about it the faster I drove.
As I pulled into the driveway and turned the engine off, it was such an odd
feeling, I had not seen or been in here in almost 3 months now, and as I
walked up the path and into the house, everything that happened slammed
back at me.  From the point of walking in the first time, after four
months, and then again after that.  And as I looked around the house, and
the way it looked, it scared me really to think that this is what my father
was living in for months.  What could have possessed the man to do such
drastic changes.  I mean I know that he was lonely and it felt empty and
all, and he wanted change, but this wasn't change this was `brand new,
throw away the past' it just didn't make sense to me.  But aside from that,
as I made my way up the steps into his bedroom, I was again slammed with
the vision of him lying face down on the bed, not breathing, and at that
point I had to lean against the wall.  That was just too much and painful
to a degree.  I looked around the room- it was exactly how it was 3 months
ago literally nothing had been moved -- frozen in time.

      I shook myself from this vision and went over to his night table to
find what it was that I had come for.  I opened the bottom left drawer as
he said, and there sat a medium sized brown wooden box, certainly bigger
than a ring box (that's my mind always selfish), it had two clasps on
either side that held it closed.  I was tempted, actually very tempted to
open it and see what was inside that was so important to him that he needed
to have it now, but went against my wants and just picked up the box,
closed the drawer, and walked out of his bedroom, and as I was leaving I
went to shut the door, as it always was, but decided that I was going to
leave it open this time.  Why, I'm not really sure, but for as long as I
can remember, his door was never open, whether he was in the room or not,
that door was always closed -- never locked, but always closed.  But as I
was thinking, if I was going to make change, then I was going to start now,
and I left the door open and walked downstairs. At the foot of the steps I
once again ran into that box that was marked for storage which had all of
the things that I had given him over the years, and went through it looking
for a blanket that I had made him back in 5th grade, but as I got towards
the bottom of the box it was apparent that it was not in there.  That
actually was very upsetting to me, I wanted to bring it back to him and let
him have it in the hospital, since I knew they were no longer going to let
me stay with him at least until he was moved out of the ICU, which was
quite clear wasn't going to be for a while.  But to no avail, I thought
about looking for it elsewhere, but realized that I had already been gone
for quite a while and just decided to forget it and go back to the
hospital.

      So with the box in hand, I walked out of the house and back to the
car, and my mind went back to what on earth was in this box, I really
couldn't imagine.  I shook it a bit but there was no sound really, so
certainly wasn't jewelry or anything of that sort.  I really had no clue, I
wanted so badly to open it but, I resisted and headed back to the hospital.
I tentatively walked into the ICU, wondering whether or not I would still
find him there and whether or not he kept his promise to me.  Thankfully
for once he did, and he was still lying there, eyes open, looking around,
and actually seemingly with an impatient look on his face.  That in itself
made me smile. Because again it was some sort of a sign that he was still
in there, and hopefully willing to fight as much and hard as he could to
win.  As I walked back over to his bed, I held the box in one hand behind
my back, and looked him as he looked back at me and followed my eyes as I
moved, with my free hand I took his in mine, leaned over kissed him on the
head, and said `I love you.'  He looked up and smiled at me, and said `As I
do you, now where's the box?' I laughed and said that I had it however, I
wanted to know what's so important and what's in it? All he did was smile
at me.

	So I gave him the box, and he closed his hands around it and
smiled, it was so odd. And I said to him, `I take it that's the box you
wanted?' And he looked at me still with a smile on his face and nodded his
head yes.  At this point I was more puzzled than ever because as much as I
can remember he hasn't had a face like that on in a very long time, and
especially now in the midst of everything, things just weren't adding up
correctly at least not in my head. And I myself was losing my own patience
with all of this because I wanted to know already what the fucking deal
was.  So finally I just said `Dad, what the fuck is in the box??'  He
looked at me with an odd look on his face, because as open as we've been
with each other all these years, I've never often cursed at him like that.
Not sure why, but just never did, never saw the reason to but at this point
I wanted to know.  And then he dropped the bomb

      `Michael there are very few people in this world that I trust,
actually I take that back.  There is no one in this world now that I trust
more than you.  You have always put everyone in the world before you. As I
watched you grow up, as sheltered and hidden as you were, a father knows
what's going on -- and I did - and I feel terrible about the fact that I
just sat back and let you struggle with everything.' Now at that point I
went to stop him from continuing even further and started to tell him that
there was nothing to regret or feel terrible about, but before I even have
the chance to open my mouth he cut me off and continued, `Don't say
anything yet, just let me finish. I know you're going to say not to feel
bad or don't worry about it, but there's nothing you can do about it I
will.  However, with all that said, I guess it's time to explain a few
other things.'

 	Now at this point, I had no idea where this was going my emotions
were already in such a whirlwind, that my head was spinning but he went on.

      `From the time I actually understood what things in the world meant,
I knew that I wanted to have kids --which was pretty early on.  And then
I met your mom, and fell in love with her at first sight, and said this is
the person I want kids with -- yes I know doesn't make sense since at
that point I was only 18, but consider the fact that some of us are early
bloomers.  In any event as soon we were out of high school, we started
living with each other, went to the same college, and within a few months,
low and behold your mother was pregnant with your brothers.  Which to me
didn't make sense, because we had taken precautions to prevent this, since
I wanted kids but not this quickly, but as I found out your mother had
cheated with someone else, who did not want the kids, and well abortion
wasn't exactly common practice back then.  But I was more than happy to
have them, but also at the same time I wanted my own and was jealous of the
fact that they weren't my own flesh and blood.  And with that, I got your
mother pregnant myself -- needless to say she wasn't exactly happy but
had no choice, until she decided to take off completely and left me with
the 3 of you. And you Michael, were the most wonderful thing that I was
left with.  Yes I love your brother's still do, regardless of what happened
to them, and if they ever do decide to return I would still welcome them as
my own kids.`

       I was just totally blown away. What I was hearing was just
unbelievable.  Although in looking back at it, it did make some sense,
since really in the couple of pictures that there are, they look absolutely
NOTHING like my father, not even one ounce of resemblance, and while I
don't remember my mother very well in the pictures, it's clearly obvious
that they were her kids.  And while that filled in some of the blanks there
still quite a bit missing from the puzzle.  And I just stared at him, and
finally said `I take it there's more to this than has already been stated.'
He nodded, but before I gave him the chance to speak again, I said, `you
can tell me everything from day one to now, but first I want to know what
was so important about me running home to get that damn box.' He just
smiled at me, and said OK.  He took his hand from mine and went to open the
box, and inside there was one large envelope and inside that were a bunch
of small envelopes all of which looked older than I was. And from the bunch
he took the one from the bottom of the pile opened it up and pulled out a 3
page note and handed it to me, and just said read it.  The first thing I
noticed on it was the date, December 26th, 1964 (the month and day being my
birthday), the first line of the letter was `Dear Michael' And as I read on
and through the letter, I realized what I was reading -- it was a love
letter.  It expressed so many feelings, and so many emotions, that really
only I thought I had towards someone.  I finished the letter and looked
back at him with a very confused look on my face, because I knew it
certainly wasn't directed to me, not only wasn't I born yet, furthermore by
my calculations he was only 14 or 15 at the time this was written, which
would mean he hadn't even met my mother yet.  And I gave the letter back to
him not really know what to say, I just looked at him, and he looked back
and then took that one back and gave me the letter from the second
envelope.  And again it was another letter but this one addressed `Dear
Joshua'(my father's name) dated January 2nd, 1965, the same type of love
letter, except it was signed `Love Michael'. I finished reading it and gave
it back to him, and before he was able to give me another one, I finally
just said to him, "Dad, what's the deal here?  Are you telling me that you
were attracted to guys? That you actually played around with them?  You're
actually gay? Tell me what?"

      I mean my head was just spinning, I just been told that my brothers
were only half brothers, my mother didn't want me to happen (not that it
really mattered) and now I had just read two of what appeared to be love
letters that my father had written -- not to my mother but another man
named Michael.  Did my father just without words tell me he was gay or at
the least bisexual?  The entire thing was so perplexing to me, but then
made me more curious about something, and I asked to see the very last
letter.  He handed it to me, and I looked at the date December 26th 1971,
my birthday, and all the letter said was `Dear Michael, I love you, but
I've finally got what I always wanted, and I need to concentrate on that
now, I'll be in touch soon, Love Joshua'. Now a number of things didn't
make sense, 1, why did he still have the letters he wrote to this person,
and why was he showing them to me now?  I just turned to him and asked one
very simple question, "why?"