I feel numb.
Almost lifeless.
I struggle through my survival. The inner battle of what if’s and why not’s only cause my head to hurt and my heart to crumble. A senseless act that brings me to my knees and knocks the breath from my lungs. It hurts to open my eyes, to think, to move. But I bore through that pain to be here.
I somehow managed to get through Josh’s funeral two days ago, two weeks after the shooting. Mrs. Turner asked me to speak about her son and I almost had to back down. But I had Logan. Somehow, he mustered enough courage to stand next to me and hold my hand as I eulogized my partner.
I spoke of our first meeting, him volunteering at one of my build sites a couple of years ago. How I had to practically beg him to go on our first date for months before he said yes. How he had a gentle heart, a kind soul, and a pure love he wasn’t afraid to share with anyone.
And all I got was a year and a half with him.
The world is cruel and unforgiving.
It’s not fair.
There are no second chances or do-overs.
What you see is what you get.
For the last couple of weeks, I’ve given my statement at least a dozen times. No, I didn’t see his face. No, I didn’t see any distinguishing markers. Yes, I stabbed him in his left thigh when he got careless. If I saw anything, it was stuck in my head, hiding behind horror and fear.
None of the information I gave the police is relevant enough to figure out who the guy is. They’ve been keeping a close eye on the hospitals, but nothing stands out. No shifty people, no stab wounds to the leg, nothing.
All I can do is sit and wallow in my heartache. I lost my lover. I lost one of the men in my life I consider one of my brothers. I’ve lost what used to be to be a better part of me. All because someone has hate in their heart. Hate and rage and fear.
“Hey, I’m glad you’re here.” Grayson Michaels walks up to me with his husband, Finn, following behind, hand in hand. Like everyone else, their eyes scream pity when they look at me. I want to strangle them and yell at them and let them know that it makes me feel worse. Instead, I take it with a sad smile and a hug.
“Yeah, I almost didn’t come but I keep reminding myself that if Logan could be there for me and Josh, then I needed to be here for him and Brad.” I give them a small shrug while willing the sting out of my eyes for the tenth time in the last hour.
I feel like I’m struggling just to walk, to breathe, to exist. I wake up not knowing what’s right or wrong, what’s black or white, or what’s up or down. I walk around in a daze, trying to figure out why this happened to me, to us. Why we were targeted and why we had to lose our loved ones.
“Jesus, Cam. Anyone would understand if you couldn’t be here, especially Logan.” I nod at Finn as we walk to the covered outdoor seating area at the veteran’s cemetery. They turn down a row but I keep on walking.
The casket is closed but that doesn’t stop me from walking up and touching it. Draped over is an American flag. I run my fingers alongside the flag, careful not to touch it, but appreciating what it stands for. Brad deserves the best that his country can give him for everything he’s already given.
“Do you think I gave him a good home?” I turn to the broken voice and find Logan, hands in his pockets and looking at the ground.
“Yeah,” I whisper, “It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks for coming. I know it wasn’t easy.”
I turn all the way to face Logan. Any other day, I would let those feelings that never went away all those years ago, run rampant. But today, it’s a different kind of love that I feel.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Logan. Y’all are more than just my best friend, y’all are my brothers. I love you too much to make you go through this alone.” I can hear the hollowness in my voice and it kills me that I can’t gather enough energy to feel more sympathetic.
“Do you feel as angry and lost as I do?”
“Yes. Every damn day and it doesn’t get easier. I just want to find that fucker and do what he did to us to someone he loves.”
“I reached for him this morning. I woke up, calling for Brad, and patted the bed before it hit me that he’s here instead. That he’s about to be put in the ground, covered in cement and dirt and bugs and darkness.” I hear the hitch in his voice and pull him towards me. I can feel him fighting the tears as I hold him close and it forces me to do the same.
No one would blame either of us for breaking down but at the same time, we don’t want to cause a scene.
I look around at the people gathering around us before circling back to Logan. “I don’t see Levi or Lindsay.”
“Levi couldn’t…deal. Said it reminded him too much of Landry, and I understand. He and Brad were really close, ya know?” I nod my head as he continues talking. “We tried getting in contact with Lindsay but that’s always hit and miss. So, it’s just me.” I give his arm a reassuring squeeze. I know all too well what it’s like being alone in a crowd full of people.
“Come on; the service is about to start. Why don’t I walk you to your seat before I go sit down?”
“Stay with me, Cam. Please? Suz is sitting with their parents. I just need someone in my corner who understands.”
I nod my head, knowing that it’s exactly how I was feeling just two days before.
We take our seats up front and everyone follows suit.
We sit there holding hands, reassuring and soothing one another during the tough parts, and even cracking a smile when JoJo stands up to speak.
But it’s during the twenty-one-gun salute and the folding of the flag during a bugler playing Taps that makes it almost unbearable.
Logan turns his body into mine as he lets loose all his sorrow and grief. All I can do is hold him tight, comfort him the best I can while barely managing to hold my own.
He will get through this.
I will get through this.
Somehow, we will find a way to live.
Because, if we don’t, I don’t see us surviving for much longer.