Is suffering necessary?

When I finally climbed upstairs and entered Room 27, I lay down on my bed and broke down into a pool of pain, tears, and regret. Patrick wasn't home yet, and he almost certainly hadn't heard the news. It didn't matter. He would hear it soon enough, and I had no desire to spread my suffering to anyone else.

I turned on my phone, stuck my earbuds in, and shuffled through all of the Beatles songs that I had. The Beatles had never failed to help me before, so maybe they could help me through Brendon's death. However, it quickly became clear that nothing could ease my anguish, not even the saddest songs that I could find. I barely heard the music, and images from earlier in the day flashed through my mind. It was hard to believe that Brendon had only been dead for a few hours - the whole day had gone by so slowly. If the Beatles couldn't help me, then what would?

I spent the next several hours curled up in bed, refusing to move. I couldn't go to the dining hall for dinner, because I simply had no appetite. Instead, I searched for some sort of a distraction. I tried to work on my Morals, Values, and Ethics paper, but the words wouldn't come. I tried to read a book just for fun, but when I saw that the first line was "Paul Johnson was dead," I closed the book immediately. I had gone through far too much that day to find escapism in death. As the clock continued to tick, I tried to take a nap, but I woke up only twenty minutes later, shaking from a horrific nightmare. Nothing was the same now that Brendon was gone.

At 8:30, my phone began to ring. I reached for the phone and saw that Spencer was calling me. I considered ignoring it, but it was Spencer. Surely, if he was calling me, it was important. I picked up the phone and said, "Hello?"

"Hey Ryan, it's Spencer," he said. "I just...I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm not okay," I told him.

"Me neither," Spencer said. "I think that's normal though. You're coming to the Aubergine tonight, right?"

I knew that I had told Spencer that I was coming, and I also knew that it was wrong to go back on my word, but I had no desire whatsoever to go to the Aubergine that night. The appeal of the Aubergine Dream had never involved drinking or dancing or listening to music, or any of the other things that people usually went to a bar for. I had always gone to the Aubergine for Brendon, and now that he was gone, there was no point in going. "I don't think so," I said.

"Come on, Ryan," Spencer said. "You should go."

"You said earlier that you would understand if I didn't go," I said.

"And you said that you would go anyways," Spencer said.

"I don't want to go back on my word, but I couldn't even get myself out of bed for dinner," I said. "I don't know how I'm going to face everyone at the Aubergine."

"I didn't eat dinner either," Spencer said. "I just haven't been hungry since we heard the news. I'm still going to the Aubergine though. It will be hard, but we can do this together."

"I don't know about that," I said. "I don't think I can go to the Aubergine."

"If you don't go to the Aubergine tonight, then you'll have to go tomorrow night," Spencer said.

"Maybe I should just quit my job," I said. At the time, it seemed like the best solution. I would let the past die - kill it, if I had to. Even if I couldn't let Brendon go, there were plenty of other things in my past that I could get rid of.

"How are you going to pay for your room and board?" Spencer asked.

He had a point. It wouldn't be easy to find a new job if I quit my position at the Aubergine. Clearly, I hadn't thought my plan through. "I don't know," I said.

"That's what I thought," Spencer said. "Besides, Brendon would want you to stay at the Aubergine. He really did love his job, and even in his absence, he would want both of us to stay."

I could hear Spencer beginning to get choked up, and I knew what I had to do. "Fine," I said. "I'll come tonight."

"Okay Ryan," Spencer said. "I'll see you there."

Spencer hung up, and I realized that I had to leave right away if I wanted to make it to the Aubergine by nine. I had no real desire to go to the Aubergine, but Spencer was right. Brendon would want me to be there. I went downstairs, left Flack Hall, and walked into the heart of Old Haven. As I walked, I stared down at the sidewalk, trying to avoid all of the memories that threatened to punch me in the gut. My strategy worked until Patrick walked up beside me.

"Hey Ryan," he said with a smile. "How are you doing? Did Brendon like his present? I don't know if you heard, but my birthday is two weeks from tomorrow, and I heard from Joe that Pete's getting me a puppy. I'll have to ask someone if they'll let me keep it in the dorms..."

How could Patrick be so oblivious? I walked faster to avoid talking to him, and thankfully, Patrick's short legs couldn't keep up. I would have to tell him about Brendon eventually, but telling him on the way to the Aubergine didn't seem like the best idea.

When I got there, it was almost exactly nine o'clock. I rushed over to the piano bench, but I couldn't lose myself in the music like I always did. The song sounded entirely wrong without Brendon. I could hear people in the audience asking where Brendon was, and I knew that Spencer and I had to explain ourselves somehow.

I played through the remainder of the song, craving the angelic voice that I would never hear again. It seems cruel that we must always want what we cannot have, and although I knew that I couldn't have Brendon, I wished to have him next to me on the piano bench, singing along. Instead, we had a gaping hole in our trio.

After the song finished, someone shouted, "Where's Brendon?" I had to give her an answer, but even saying the words brought back even more pain. Nevertheless, I tried to give her an explanation.

"He...he's..." I stuttered, but I couldn't get it out without bursting into tears. As I sobbed, I looked to Spencer, and thankfully, he was able to help me.

"Brendon passed away earlier today," Spencer said. As a wave of concerned chatter made its way around the bar, Spencer reached for a tissue and wiped his eyes. Meanwhile, I stared out at the audience. Some of them didn't believe us, claiming that Brendon was far too young to die, while others were shocked or saddened by the news. Pete's eyeliner was running, despite Patrick's attempts to comfort him, and Laura was shouting a million questions at us from the back of the room.

"What do we do now?" Spencer whispered, and for once, I didn't have a good answer. As I stared at my music, Spencer tried his best to explain the basic facts of what had happened. In the end, it was useless. No amount of explanation could ever ease the pain of losing Brendon. After a few minutes, Spencer announced that we were going to play a few more songs, and we continued onwards, still without Brendon's beautiful melodies.

While I played, I wondered if the piano knew that Brendon was going to die. If it did, why hadn't it told me? Even I had known that Brendon would die, it wouldn't have helped. His death would have still hurt, but at least both of us might have been prepared. I was never truly given a chance to say goodbye to him, and although it wouldn't have made his death hurt less, it might have given me a sense of closure. I cursed my instrument and kept on playing, wishing that I could be anywhere but the Aubergine Dream.

After the show, there was no reason for me to stay at the Aubergine. As I made my way towards the door, all kinds of people stopped me and told me how sorry they were about Brendon. I knew that they were well-meaning, and it was certainly the right thing for them to do, but none of it helped. I forced myself through each conversation, my mind wandering elsewhere.

I finally made it to the door, and I rushed out of the Aubergine and back towards the Kale University campus. On my way there, I managed to get slightly lost. Despite the fact that I had lived in Old Haven for almost a year, I wasn't alarmed at all. It was merely reflective of how I felt. I was lost without Brendon in my life. Up until that point, I believed that he was my other half, and I couldn't reject that idea just because he was dead. How would I live without my other half? It took me eighteen years to find Brendon, and just like that, he was gone. My soulmate was dead, and I was left alive, wishing for someone that I could never have.

Would I ever see Brendon again? I wasn't sure if there was an afterlife, but I doubted it if there was no higher power out there. Even if it did exist, I wouldn't be going there for a long time. I used to say that I wanted to die before I was old, but Brendon had made me think twice. Now that he was gone, what would I do? Maybe dying young would be worth it if I could see Brendon again.

I eventually made it back to campus, and I entered Flack Hall and climbed up to Room 27. Patrick was still at the Aubergine, so I had the dorm room to myself. I flopped onto my bed and wondered why I had to suffer so much. Was there any particular reason for all of the misery that I had to go through that day? Was this an essential step in some cosmic plan, or was it random? I couldn't decide which was worse. I hated to think that fate had some plot to kill Brendon, but I also didn't want to believe that this was all pure chance.

There was no point in making someone miserable. Brendon didn't need to die, and nothing good had come of his death. Having Brendon around had made me happy, but now, all of that happiness had disappeared. I had no reason to feel joyful anymore. If happiness really was being around the people that I loved, then how was I supposed to feel happy without one of the people that I loved the most?

I lay there, wondering why all of this had happened to me, until Patrick arrived in the dorm room. "I'm so sorry about Brendon," he said softly as he took off his glasses and put them down next to his bed.

I didn't even bother to respond. When Patrick turned off the lights, I tried to sleep, but the overwhelming heartache that still rested within me kept that from happening. I tried to push my darkest thoughts away, but they just continued to come, and eventually, I let them. What else was I supposed to do when my soulmate was dead?