I finished my speech. For the last bit I was looking down at the paper, trying not to let anyone see me. When I looked up everyone else was on the verge of tears. I stood there for a second, letting all the aching pain in me be witnessed. It was humiliating.

I left the altar and sat down in my seat again. Someone was handing me a tissue but I declined it. I wasn't crying. I don't know why. I wanted to cry, to let my soul speak instead of my brain, but I just couldn't.

The priest went back to the altar, wiping his eyes. I didn't want to sound that sad. I just wanted to let everyone know how things were. It was all plain honesty. I guess it just came out that way. It was kind of like a part two of the wedding speech. Almost every eulogy is.

The priest led through a prayer. I saw everyone else bow their heads and hold hands so I just followed their lead. I heard so many whispers added to the voice of the priest. I didn't know what to say so I just let the guy guide me or whatever. All I did say on my own was that I hope that they are in a better place. I always say "I pray and hope..." but all I do it take God's name and basically say whatever is on my mind.

Everyone else chanted "Amen!" when the priest finished. I was a beat behind. Everyone got up and started to mingle very quickly. Everyone hugged someone and wiping their tears and others as well. I stayed seated, hoping that someone wouldn't start talking to me. The four of us actually stayed seated, still holding hands. We raised our heads staring into the blank space.

We were always the kids in these situations. We are technically adults but when someone in the room is older than you automatically become the kid in the room. But I have never felt more grown up than now.

Pallbearers, I think that's what they're called. They are the people who carry the coffin to the place of burial. They are usually guys, because they carry the weight of the person and coffin, and are usually related to the dead person like a son, brother, uncle, in-laws or steps, cousin, or parent.

Victor was carried by his dad, brother-in-law, uncle and some friends. The group kind of got together and got ready. They were crying and comforting each other, especially his dad. It looked like he didn't want to at first but decided to carry him out last minute to pay his respects.

Dad didn't have any family here today, besides me. It ended up being some friends and Greyson and Joshua who took him out. Dani and I walked with them for support. I looked at the other 4 guys who was carrying Dad. They all wore somber expressions. Some of them used to work with him. They just talked to him last week about some patient or maybe some mild gossip going on. Now they are carrying him to his final resting place.

The cemetery was a little over 10 minutes away from the Big Church. It overlooked a small lake that was in the front and the highway was behind it. It was hard for me to look for the spot, but it felt like this was a task for me to do. And a little part of me was glad I did. The spot couldn't have been more perfect for.

We put them in the car in their car and headed out. Did you know that if you are part of a funeral procession that you have the right of way. In some states police will actually give you a ticket if you cut off a funeral procession. This is just a sign of respect for the mourners and so they can stick together. To know if someone is part of a funeral procession, and not some douchebag cutting red lights, they will be following a black sedan with little white flags. I didn't actually know this until someone who was setting up the funeral told me about it.

The drive to the cemetery was silent. Shelby's husband, Elijah, ended up driving us as a last-minute decision. Everyone knew how close we were to them. When they saw us in the state we were in they didn't trust anyone one of us, not even Dani, to drive. We have talked to Elijah before but it was an awkward ride, nonetheless.

When we got to the cemetery I panicked. The icy nervousness that I was accustomed to fled quickly throughout me, faster than ever. I still did everything but cry. I fought and raised my voice a little but didn't cry. I didn't want to get out of the car. I couldn't watch a bunch of people put them in the most uncomfortable bed they will ever sleep in. I didn't want to suffocate them. I don't want to put them in a place where I couldn't reach them ever again.

Everyone tried to be gentle about it. We were arguing at the car for about 15 minutes. Everyone else was crying and starting to become upset. But desperate times call for desperate measure. They wouldn't do anything until I came out of the car. Everyone was waiting at the entrance for me. I could see them looking at us from afar.

Greyson and Joshua, in the gentlest and most careful way, pulled me out of the car. I stumbled as I got out. They helped me walk to the entrance, near the gates. They eventually had to let me go to go get Dad. I stood at the entrance, being the most scared I have ever been in my entire life. Dani was standing with me, fixing the strands of my hair that was sticking out, keeping me looking presentable.

They were going to be buried next to each other. As we are walking in I already see the 6-foot hole impaled into the ground coming into view. This was going to be their mark on the world. Not all the people they touched or whatever other crap we all said in out speech. This dirt hole in the ground will be the thing which we will remember them by.

While I was walking to the spot, watching everyone being sad and seeing the guys carry the weight of all the sadness, thinking about all of this the phrase "Till death do you part?" makes a whole lot of sense now.

We eventually huddled around the graves. The guys were lowering them into their respective graves. It was like as they were lowering all the feelings that were in me were coming out. They were so close. They struggle to let go for a second but they eventually did.

It was quiet for a second. There were no cars honking or driving off. All the sounds of the little nature we persevered is silently still moving. The wind stopped howling and even the water seemed to stop lazily moving. It was as if something put the noise button to off. It was like the world finally realized what happened and was finally giving its respect.

There were about 12 shovels around. When they were lowered into the grave, I heard the clanking of the metal part smashing into one another as they passed it around. Some was handing me a shove and I realized what I am about to do will ultimately kill me. I didn't want to. But everyone was tired of me doing all these dramas. I have to do this, a lot of people said.

I made sure to only pick up a little bit of earth on the shovel. Even this tiny bit was extremely heavy, my arms were shaking from all the weight on the other end. I first went to Victor and gently slide it into his grave, being as careful and harmless as I can. I did the same thing for Dad as well.

I knew it would hurt them so much if I just carelessly threw pound of dirt on them. Once I did what I did I tossed the shovel aside and still couldn't believe I did what I did. I didn't sink into the ground dramatically but I ended up sitting on the grass, nonetheless.

Everyone got a turn to put some dirt in their graves. I saw everyone struggle with the physicality of the job, but no one seemed to be struggling with the emotional side of it. They meant business. You would've thought that this was a scene in a movie. They made sure to put a lot and they just carelessly threw it on top of them. This made me upset. Didn't they know how much it hurts when you have dirt just casually thrown at you? I was tempted to throw some at them just so they can know.

It took an hour of nonstop digging to bury them. Some finally gave Greyson and Joshua a break from all they were doing. They both had smudges of dirt on their shirts and had their sleeves rolled up. They were covered in sweat from bathing in the summer sun. They sat down next to me and Dani, watching the other guys bury them. The only sounds made were the grunting of the guys who were piling dirt on them and the occasional sob that escaped someone's sealed lips. Each time a shovel placed a new handful of dirt on them it was an excruciating painful jab to my heart. I slowly realized what was actually happening.

Finally, it was done. It would be about six months till they settle in their places but the hard part was done. That's why you place a tombstone after 6 months. To let them get comfortable.

When the last person put the shovel to the side all the pain and sadness and horrible grief finally spilled out of me. Everyone stood there for a second and bowed their heads, as though in prayer again. Eventually people slowly started to make their way back to their car. But I stayed here, realizing what this all meant. It hit hard.

I won't be able to see them again, I thought as everyone left. They weren't a call or a text or a door away. They were gone. They left me. They lied. They said they were always going to be there for me, for all of us. They lied. 

The tears were finally rolling down my face.

...

The reception, I think that's the name of this thing, was going to be at our house. Again. It seems to be that every celebration requires some sort of gathering with a lot of people. Can't there ever be a celebration where it's just a party of one? It is not as sad as you think.

This was the deadest party I've ever been too, no pun intended. We didn't decorate or really clean anything beforehand. People just showed up to the house. But they seemed okay with this. I wasn't though. We always seemed to put our best foot forward when we had guests over, but now they saw the true behind the scenes.

The house felt extremely cramped. There were so many people here that you couldn't move a centimeter without bumping into someone or something. They all were spread from the entrance to the living room, occupying every inch of space from the floor to the counters. If we could just move it outside, like how we did for the wedding, everything would be a bit calmer. And as a horrible bonus, for as many people packed into the space, they were so quiet you could hear a pen drop. It was making me feel suffocated.

As we were sitting, in mourning I guess, everyone came to greet me again. I had to witness tears and grief and sorrow that wasn't mine and had to accept the apologies and the reassurances that everyone will be okay and that I will get through this. But it won't. You don't go wake up one day and all the sad feelings just disappear. This is a forever thing. Yeah, the feelings will eventually wither with time but the damage was already done, and you can't seem to undo that.

After about ten minutes of talking and being somewhat the center of attention I was getting annoyed and anxious. Everyone thought that I needed them and wanted them to stay with me but in reality I wished they all would leave. I only wish the company of a few and the thoughts in my head. I wanted to cry in peace so that no one will bother wiping them.

I stepped out onto the deck. I noticed some people look after me but they didn't follow me. Thank goodness. But they weren't important, they didn't matter. They cried over Dad and Victor but the last time they spoke to them, or even spoke good words to them, was over a millennia ago. But they felt so sorry or sad that they just had to show up. 

But did it matter? Did Dad or Victor care about whether these people showed up to their last great moment? Dad wouldn't. He hated big gatherings. Our occasional tub of ice cream and a cheesy movie would have sufficed. Victor may have like the idea of a lot of people being there. He thrived on this type of thing. It made me wonder how they fell in love. They were polar opposites yet there was so much love in them for each other person. 

The sun was in its golden hour. Remember the one I told you about a while ago? Where if you are sitting in rush hour and the sun fills up your car with that golden hue? Yeah, now its shining over the area.

Every tree in the distance looked lively, like something out of a children's storybook. The green looked greener and the bark of the tree seemed so much richer. The houses bathed in this golden light. Old people who didn't draw their curtains who were taking a nap were getting annoyed, the teenagers were taking the golden hour selfie, and this was the indication to kids to go play because the sun won't kill you right now. It made everything look calmer and more peaceful. Sit outside and let the crisp breeze tickle your face and the fragrance of freshly cut grass hit your nose. 

It never looked this depressing to me before.

I heard the door slam open. Greyson came outside holding a plate that had a lot of food. Food. So many people brought food. Mash potatoes and deviled eggs and, weirdly, casserole and pasta and a bunch of other things that looked disgustingly good. But all it did was make me want to eat it less. 

Greyson set the plate down on the table and sat next to me. The four of us were crying non-stop at the cemetery. Poor Elijah stayed with us the entire time until we were ready to go. We would've stayed there for the rest of our lives, or I would've at least had, but everyone was calling us to come open the house. But I don't think Elijah minded though. He was able to shed a few tears too. 

We sat there for a long time. There were no words to say to comfort even the smallest amount of pain right now. Every little thing, whether I wanted to or not, would remind me of them. It was stupid. It was things like "They won't be able to see another sun set again", things like that. It was about things they wouldn't get to see or do anything again because they weren't here anymore. I hated it. The world shouldn't be this beautiful when it lost something that made it precious. 

Joshua came outside after a while. He didn't notice us. He leaned over the railing, holding two things in his hand. One of them was a thin, black stick and a bottle of juice. Upon further investigation I realized what it was. If you went to a public high school long enough you may know this object very well. He was twirling it around his hand, contemplating what to do. He slowly brought it to his lips, about to change his life yet again. 

"Joshua!" Greyson yelled all of a sudden. We both were watching him about to do it. Joshua turned around and finally noticed us. His eyes were wide in shock as he realized we saw what he was doing. He hid his stick and bottle away from us but hiding stuff behind your back at this age doesn't seem to work all that well. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Greyson said to him. Everything that was calmly in agony was out of the window.

Greyson got up and went over to Joshua. Joshua was scared, we all knew this. He and Greyson have only fought with each other only once before. It was when Joshua started doing it 3 years ago. It was bad, now that I am remembering it. They had put hands on each other and stopped talking for a while. Joshua couldn't really walk for about a week cause of a sprained ankle, though when Dad asked what he did he lied and said he tripped on the stairs. 

They both care so much about each other so much that they will go to any length to show it to each other. It is literally going to kill one of them these days.

Greyson stood in front of Joshua, looking him dead in the eye. Joshua was trying to match his bravery but it didn't work. The hand holding his stuff was shaking violently. Greyson ripped it out of his hand, looking at them with a look of hate he reserved for certain things and people.

"What the hell is wrong with you, huh?" Greyson's voice was cracking up. His hand was shaking too. He kept on looking from Joshua to the things in his hands. He pushed Joshua against the wall, starting to get physical. 

"Huh? Tell me! What's wrong with you? What the hell do you think you will get out of this? Peace and calm? Cause I think you'll end up like your old man, or maybe like her dad! Is that what you want?" He was starting to get in his face. I was starting to get scared.

"Greyson I- Greyson I- I wasn't- I didn't mean to-"

SMACK!

Joshua's right cheek was starting to swell up. It had a bright red hand imprint of Greyson's hand. Greyson had slapped him across the face, hard. Joshua had stumbled sideways towards the railings and was clutching the side of his face.

The door opened again and I knew that all the things worse than hell went loose.

"Rossi, what the hell is wrong with you?" Dani screamed as she took in the scene. She stood at the door looking at the outraged Greyson to the beaten-up Joshua to me. 

Greyson looked at her with a fiery look of anger. "The hell is wrong with me? You should be more worried about your drugged up boyfriend!" he shouted at her.

"Shut the hell up!" she said threateningly. This just made him more delirious.

"Yeah? Who's gonna make me? If you think if you are going to make me shut it and I will just take it like that, guess what? You're wrong, little miss perfect! Okay! I'm tired of you always acting like this big tough guy, okay! I don't-"

WHAM!

Joshua stared at Greyson with the same fiery look he gave Dani. It was Greyson's turn to stumble backward and clutch the side of his face. I even saw some blood mixed with saliva come out of his mouth. 

Joshua had punched him hard in the face.

Joshua grabbed Greyson by the collar of his shirt and drag him up to his feet.

"Apologize." That's all Joshua said. It was enough evidence that Joshua was winning over Greyson that he was beyond frustrated.

Greyson stayed quiet, breathing very heavily while trying to get out of Joshua's grip. There was so much hatred in their faces. Dani looked tensed. I was scared. Not again, I thought. I don't need a repeat of anything that happened in the past.

Joshua took another hit at Greyson who stumbled again. They started hitting each other and all the anger that was boiling in their stomachs were finally out for blood. Each punch that made contact with the other person was harder than the last.

Soon people saw what was happening. Eventually a lot of people rushed outside and pulled them apart. Victor's uncle and dad got a hold of Greyson while everyone else was rushing towards Joshua who was seconds from fainting. They both struggled against all the people who were holding them back, trying to win this fight.

I ran inside past everyone and grabbed the keys off the hook. Too much was happening right now. It was like everything that was paused, played then was fast forwarded it. I just wanted some peace and quiet. That's all I wanted! Didn't they get it? I just wanted to get away from all this.

As I started the car I was thinking there's only one place that I could go to this late at night to offer some peace. I have only been there a couple of times but I knew how to get there. There were also some markers I made on the journey so that if I ever needed to go back I would know my way there. But it was kind of pointless. I knew this place by heart. It was the only escape for now. Some people would have a hard time going back there but it is the only place that will work right now. That will be safe from everything. 

The door was unlocked when I got there. He had a bad habit of leaving things, especially doors, unlocked. We would tell him about the dangers of leaving doors unlocked, like about burglars and thieves, and how it was more likely to happen to him cause of the area he lived in, but he always joked around that there wasn't anything worth stealing that mattered to him. Plus, it was a great opportunity to meet a new friend at 4 in the morning. Maybe they would sit and have a cup of coffee, trading stories about their work.

I walked and everything looked different from my memory. There was a bunch of pieces of furniture missing and those that were still here was covered in layers of dust. But it was still the perfect place for me. When the two of them had a date night once I told them to go here after their dinner. I didn't want to be in their way of anything. But as I wipe my finger on the coffee table, which collected all the accumulated dust, it was clear no one has been occupying this place for a while. 

I didn't have a hard time coming in, emotionally. I actually felt really comfortable here. It felt like a safe space. The place where everything I need is here. 

I go to his room first and see what's up. It's the same. story, more or less, in here. His bed and dresser were gone, leaving only his nightstand and vanity, neither of which matched together very well. There was a bunch of random things all over the floor.

I wondered over to his closet and was immensely surprised that he still had buckets of clothes still here. He made Barbie's closet look like a DD's Discount store.

I pushed around piles of clothing around and finally found a normal pair of sweatpants and a shirt. At least they weren't covered in rhinestones. I had to roll the pants a couple of times to find my feet and the shirt was low enough where the whole show was spoiled. I had pull it up just for my sake. But it was very big and comfortable and cozy, and it was a blessing to rip of that uncomfortable dress. It smelled like his favorite cologne. It wasn't too strong but it smelled extremely vibrant. It was really calming to me.

I wondered around the house, thinking. I wanted to stay here for a bit. I needed to be alone for a while. I don't need anybody to come up and hug me or else tell me about something that makes my mind fuzz. I just needed peace and quiet and some alone time and something to do.

I started cleaning the house. I played some random music just so I won't stay paranoid. I started to clean up his room first. I pushed his nightstands against the corner, next to each other, and put all the things scattered on the floor in the middle. There was a bunch of papers, snippets of pictures, random necessities, and the most bizarre trinkets and tchotchkes. Some things were to be thrown away and some things were grouped together based on similar characteristics and placed into a new home. Even if he was unorganized he always said "To keep a house clean remember that everything has a home. You wouldn't like to be removed from your house then not be placed back, right?"

I found an old photo album of his. It had his name kind of embroidered into the spine. I flipped through it and it was telling me his whole life story. It was pictures from his first birthday to pictures that were taken, from what I guess, in Hawaii to his wedding day. I found a bunch of pictures of what I assumed to be his cousins and friends. I saw a bunch from his residency days and when he was the absolute frat boy in college. He said that phase only lasted one semester though. He realized he needed to get his act together if he wanted to be taken seriously. He never regretted that choice though, he said he wanted to live a bit of life before it hit him.

I fixed up his closet and cleaned out his bathroom. It took forever to fold and hang up all of his remaining clothes and there was some that had to be sent for the wash. I also took me about 15 minutes to figure out how to dispose his razor properly. 

I cleaned out his living room next. It was summarized into just one word: Dust: On the one chair that was still there, the table, the counters, the ceiling fan, the mantle; you name it and there was dust there. After I finished brooming, I was handed a private invitation to Sneezeapalooza. It was a wild party with just me, myself, and I.

I rearranged the furniture to open the space up a bit. Everything just of in random spots without the other pieces makes the area feel extremely cramped, like a maze. As I moved stuff around it also looked a bit nicer as well. I was proud of myself. I made do with what I had and I didn't lose my head.

I went on to the kitchen. There were some dishes in the sink that were still left here. Thank goodness that there wasn't on food on them though or it would've been a disaster. I washed them and put them away, leaving the sink empty. I wiped down the counters with his special marble cleaner. First time using it. It made the counter look really nice.

I opened the fridge and cleaned it out. Any of the open food I had to throw away, God knows how long it's been in there, and any closed stuff I put in a bag to take it to the house. I did the same thing to his freezer, cabinets, and pantry. I didn't want to waste good food. He had a very bland taste in food. It was basic but it did what food needs to do. And for anybody that needs to pull an all nighter, come raid his fridge. Everything from cold brew to energy drinks to help with any piece of homework or test you need to finish.  

I took a quick break after I broomed from the area. I was leaning against the counter, drinking some water. There was soda that I could have drunk instead but growing up I didn't drink a lot of soda. I never craved it like I know some other people do. Plus I know all the side effects of drinking a lot of soda so that gave me trauma I didn't even know I had. 

I was looking around the place when I noticed something. It stuck out like a sore thumb. There was a card sitting on the breakfast bar. It was the only red thing on there. I walked over to it and picked it up. It was a bit dusty and looked misplaced. I turned it around and brushed my thumb over the imprint of the name.

I forgot how good his handwriting was. It's been a while since he helped with homework or any paperwork so it's been a while since I looked at it. His coworkers always made fun of his good penmanship; they said he didn't know how to write in 'doctor'. If notes were handwritten instead of typed he would have been done for. He was left-handed too so you would visibly see how much he had written in one day. If you know you know. 

I opened the envelope and pulled out the card. It was Christmas themed. It felt very stiff as I opened it as though it hasn't been opened in a long time. It read:

Dear Victor

(I am going to warn you right now that this letter is going to be very cheesy so read it at your own risk)

I don't know how else to say this so I will just say it: I love you too. It took me a stupidly long time to realize this but I love you too. It's been a while since I have known what love felt like, what it was like, what it is supposed to be, but you have shown me more than love. You showed me kindness and compassion and understanding and patience. No one else has done that for me before, well maybe except Daisy. All my life I was worried, and sometimes plain scared, that I wouldn't be able to open myself up to another person, that I would always have to hide behind a wall, but I did. And it was all thanks to you.

I love everything about you. From the late-night calls to check up on me even though we both should be sleeping to your upbeat attitude at work no matter how tired you were. I now realize how dumb I am for not falling in love with you sooner.

I can't believe I am going to say, or more like write, what I am about to say but I don't know how I can breathe if you aren't in my life. It's like I will suddenly forget because I will be focused on all the pain that came if you left. I want everything, from the busiest days to the laziest weekends, the most expensive meal money can buy to Bagel Bites, the best nights to the worst fights, the happiest smiles to the saddest tears, I want it all to be with you.

I love you. I'm sorry, again, for taking too long to realize this.

Yours Sincerely, Mr. Simpleton.

P.S. Thank you for everything you have done for the kids and me, especially Daisy. You know how much she means to me, how much all of them mean to me. I can't wait for you to meet them and see how wonderful they are. I know you guys will love each other so much. (I'm not entirely sure Daisy loved your recommendation, but I will keep trying. Thanks.)

...

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