This time death has added to our suffering, kicking our innermost hopes to the ground and shattering any prospect of a future as a banded unity. I know it won’t always be like this, that time will lessen the pain, but right now, living the moment is something that ebbs nothing but darkness into me. Grief has, and always will, unite us. We live and share each breath of this and while we all have the same heartbeat, I feel as if mine’s fallen out of rhythm and I’m struggling to catch up. The saddest part of all is that I know my father is suffering more, but what he has caused stops me from feeling compassion.
His part in this funeral was cut down to a minimal. We had already decided that my father wouldn’t take a stand and make a speech. We knew exclusion wasn’t going to make anything better, but for Manuel, I didn’t want my father to offer some more bullshit to squander this final remembrance of Manuel. We will always take our baby brother with us through life, but there was no way in fucking hell I would allow my father to ruin this moment by professing how much he loved his son – the one he thought less of because he wasn’t prepared to kill and came out as gay. I am far older and wiser now to know what I do and don’t want for today. This would not be like my mother’s funeral. I wouldn’t allow liars to pay homage to a man I respected and loved with all my heart. My brother deserves more than that.
I look at the program listing the service and find myself greeted with a smiling photo of Manuel. The knife twists in my heart as I’m reminded that I will never get to see his smile, revel in his innocence, and enjoy another moment of teasing one another. That in itself brings tears to my eyes, and I feel my lip begin to tremble. Instinctively, I bite down on it, stopping the quiver before it can get worse and I bow my head.
Zane leans forward, his hand on my shoulder, showing his support for me. I reach up, placing my small hand delicately over his and grip on as if without this small amount of physical contact I may well fall apart. Even in this public setting, the intimacy to our physicality has me lifting my head back up and facing the front of the church. I still don’t listen to what’s being said, only wonder when I can be free from the confines of this building.
I zone out after that, keeping my mind from running a riot by focusing on Zane’s hand on my shoulder. I wish he could sit up the front with us, but there wasn’t enough room for that. When he noticed, he took a seat in the pew behind us so he was sure he was directly behind me. He didn’t even budge when others took seats around him. He claimed that position and kept that proximity to me.
I love him and everything he stands for. I love him more than I ever did, but there is a dark cloud sitting on my heart and that isn’t due to Manuel’s death. This is down to the fact my future could be squandered. I know there’s a chance all could be fine, but that doubt ebbs into every thought and tells me that I’m going to ruin his life more than ever.
As my thoughts start to revert back to that chat with the doctor not long ago, I snap back in time to hear Enzo called up to offer a eulogy I watch him, throwing my entire attention to him. He straightens his suit, and I watch as Enzo walks to the front of the church. He straightens his tie a little before placing his hands onto the podium.