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Subject: "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust ...""Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust ..." The priest's voice faded
in and out, phrases ringing in the stillness then slipping back into a
background mumble. Every few minutes, the sounds of a plane flying overhead
on final approach interrupted the religious flow. His memory slipped in and
out, too, overlapping images from other times and other places. And running
through it all, that other funeral from just a few, short months back. The
frozen air chilled the tears as they ran down cheeks. Their breath puffed
clouds around their faces and above their heads. It was bitterly cold in
the mountain cemetery, snow lying in mounds around the dark crevice of the
grave.He was alone. He had buried his wife; now he was alone. Here he stood,
beside his best friend as they buried his wife, too. Here he was, hundreds
of miles from home, in his old country, with old friends and old memories,
memories which still haunted his nights, freezing his butt off in the snow
from which he had fled...and the friend he had fled, too. And now his
friend was alone.His friend shuddered as the coffin was lowered into youngs boys nudes the grave, the ratchet
clicking off each notch as the coffin slowly dropped into the darkness of
the abyss. His friend's future, and his own, too, gaped open, raw and
unyielding, unknown. He stretched out is hand, letting his fingers brush
his friend's shoulder, trailing down to whisper along atk young hairy
his friend's hand. A
tight squeeze, a letting go -- so much said; so few words.Finally, the Committal Service ended. They left the cemetery, little groups
forming, breaking apart, and reforming as people went through the rituals
of parting. He got into the car. His friend followed and they drove off,
back to his friend's home -- his friend's wife's house -- a home he would
have to leave shortly. Nothing was said during the drive, just hands
briefly touching in comfort.At the house, other friends had prepared a light meal. Relatives moved
around, chattering brightly to each other, catching up on all the news
since the last funeral, the last wedding, the last baptism, reconnecting
their frenetic, dispersed lives and working hard to convince themselves
that they really were a close-knit family. He wandered through the rooms,
chatting to those he knew, being polite to those he didn't, hunting for a
refuge from all the memories and emotions. He tried a door and moved
gratefully into the study. Comfortable chairs, books, papers -- here he
found sanctuary as he sank down into one of the armchairs.Idly he picked up the books on the side table, flicking the pages, reading
the dust jackets. Was this his friend's book, or his wife's? What had they
been reading before she died so suddenly? Pictures fell out, fluttering to
the floor. He picked them up, looking briefly -- and froze. This one, this
one he remembered. In the middle of the usual family photos of children and
vacations, here was this old photo of the three of them, laughing, joking
and having fun in front of the camera.He remembered. That day, that picnic, the laughter and love as they played
together. He remembered, and his heart wept silently for all the time apart
since then, the time forever lost.The door creaked open. "I thought I'd find you here," his friend said.
"They've all gone. The kids will be back in the morning -- to check up on
me." He sat down in the other armchair, comfortably, his usual chair,
quiet, waiting."What happens hot young chicks now?" he asked."I don't know," his friend answered."Where are you going to go?""I don't know... I can't stay here.""I know..." a long pause followed. Finally, he blurted out, "You can come
and illegal toplist young stay with me for a while, if you want, to catch your breath."Now, it was his friend's turn to pause, and finally to ask, "Is that really
a good idea, after all these years?""I don't know... We can try."The silence stretched on, and finally changed into something comfortable.
And just like that, it was settled. So much asked and answered; so few
words, so much history unspoken between them, so much yearning, so much
love, so much confusion.He was gay. And his friend was not.Over the next few weeks they buried themselves in busy-ness; books to be
packed, clothes to be sorted through, furniture to be moved. They rented a
storage locker and began moving things into it. The cleaned the house,
turned in the keys, said goodbye to friends and family. Drove to the
airport and flew off -- the first new adventure of hott young girls two best friends, alone
again.They landed, got a Sexy young ladies taxi and drove home, to his home in this southern city
that his friend had never seen. This was a new city for his friend, a new
country, who knew what the future might hold?He saw his city through new eyes as they explored it together. He showed
him his favorite restaurants, his favorite walks, his favorite museums and
churches and ... Slowly they fell into a comfortable routine. His friend
turned the guest room into his own, setting up his computer and internet,
beginning to put out some of his own photos. They purchased a little stuff
together, and slowly the house was changed.But he was gay, and his friend was not.Months passed. They each called their children, reconnecting over distance
during that first year after their wives died and their children struggled
without Mom. They each flew up, over, down, wherever, to be with their
children for birthdays, summer holidays. And then Thanksgiving rolled
around to be followed by Advent and Christmas. What would they do?They snuggled in front of the TV. They had become that comfortable with
each other again. Hands gave each youngest boys sexy other foot-rubs, massaged sore shoulders
and backs, and sometimes stole a caress. They used to sit like this, ages
ago, touching, stroking, loving young manga porn each other through their fingers. But that
had stopped after his friend met his eventual wife, and began to spend more
and more time with her. They had been young, insecure, young cream pie
unwilling to take
things further, to find out if their emotional closeness might lead to
physical; to explore what it might mean to become lovers. And here they
were again, so many years later, rediscovering that familiar,
half-remembered comfort...and still half-afraid to see where things might
go. The TV droned on, yet another re-run filling hundreds of stations with
annoying drivel; a familiar sound, an easy way to avoid that fearful
intimacy."Are you flying home for Christmas, up to see your kids?""I don't know... I guess I should. Are yours coming down?"The awkward silence, filled with unspoken questions and unspoken answers,
stretched on ... only the TV making sounds as their minds spun furiously to
find and speak the right answers. Somehow they knew that this was an
important conversation; that they couldn't continue to hide forever."Do you want to invite them down here? Maybe we could do a family Christmas
with everyone, show them the town?" The unspoken question lingered in the
air. Finally his friend spoke, "Is this `home' then?" And there it was,
finally out in the open for them to examine. Had they come that far?He drew away, turned and faced his friend. "It is if you want naturalist young teen it to be.
I've never stopped loving you, despite the distance, despite the years. I
still love you. You know that. Do you want to stay? Do you ...," the words
tumbled out of his mouth, rushing to be said. He stopped. "God, I sound
pathetic, don't I?" He sat in the corner of the couch, drawing into
himself, pulling his hands back into his lap, staring at his own loneliness
and his hopeless/hopeful love for this man.The silence stretched out, his friend fighting his own silent battle. The
TV droned on. He got up and left the room, going to his own bedroom and
closed the door, unwilling to face the silence.He lay in the darkness, staring at the ceiling, counting sheep, wrestling
with his pillows, hands unconsciously searching for a body beside him in
the big bed. Sleep was not easy this night. young school Had he blown it? Would his
friend leave, running away again, and go back north? Might he stay? Was
there a chance for them, together? Should he get up and apologize, just go
back to the way things had been for the past few months? Could he convince
him to stay? Thoughts jumbled their way through his mind, leaving him
restless, anxious, uncertain, frightened that his own need had finally
gotten the better of him. His loss of control might lead to a terrifying
future without his friend, once again leaving him alone. "Oh God ...," his
unspoken, half-formed prayer ran through his mind and soul. Exhausted, he
finally fell asleep.He awoke in the darkness, fumbling for his glasses, still more than
half-asleep, unsure why he was awake. legal nude young A hand reached out, pulling him over
in the bed, stopping his reaching fingers. Fingers stroked his cheek,
ruffled his hair, lips sought out his own. A first kiss, light, tentative,
brushed across his lips, a second followed it, illegal free young harder. He turned, opened
his eyes and looked into his friend's soul. Smiles curved their lips. His
hands reached out, discovered his friend's lithe body naked under the
covers, and the years slipped hot young virgins away. Two old men rediscovered passion and
love that night. They fed the fire which had young lesbian pussy laid there, dormant embers
glowing, for so many years. Two souls laughed together again, and were made
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# by dalehihou | 2012-07-21 08:11

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at 2012-07-21 08:11