Him? [JesBible]

1

As the soft chants of Buddhist monks echoed through the small temple, the air was thick with the scent of incense. Bible stood a few steps away from his lover, Jes Jespipat Tilapornputt, whose still body lay draped in white, surrounded by delicate flowers and the gentle glow of flickering candles. Tears glazed Bible’s eyes as he watched the rituals unfold before him. The monks, clad in their orange robes, moved gracefully, their voices a steady hum, reciting ancient prayers to guide Jes's soul into its next life.

The world around him felt both sacred and surreal. Each gesture was filled with purpose, yet the pain in Bible’s chest made it hard to breathe. It felt wrong to be there, unable to reach out and hold Jespipat one last time. Trembling, he clutched a small offering, a token of love he would never get to share again. As he watched the monks prepare to send his lover's spirit into the cycle of rebirth, he felt himself slipping away too, uncertain of where he would go without him.

Grief enveloped the air, yet there was a profound peace in the ceremony, a calm born from centuries of tradition. Still, his heart ached. He didn’t know where his love was now or whether he would find peace, or what awaited him in the afterlife.

As the final prayer echoed through the temple, the air grew heavier. Bible, standing at the back of the room, could no longer contain his anguish. The tightening in his chest intensified as he watched them light the incense near Jes's body. The white cloth covering him felt like a final barrier, a separation he couldn’t bear. Clenching his fists, his breathing grew ragged, and tears blurred his vision.

“No... no, this can’t be it,” he whispered, his voice shaking.

Without thinking, he stumbled forward, calling out, “Jes! Wake up! You can’t leave me! Don’t go, please!”

His legs gave way, and before he knew it, he was running toward Jes’s lifeless body, desperation spilling from him. Each step felt like a stab to his heart, as if moving closer could somehow bring him back. Just as he reached the altar, arms wrapped around him, pulling him back. Jes's family rushed forward, holding him tightly as he struggled to break free.

“It’s over, it’s done,” they whispered gently but firmly, trying to calm him as he thrashed in their embrace. “He’s gone.”

But Bible couldn’t accept it. He couldn’t let go. His screams echoed through the temple, and his knees buckled beneath him, collapsing into their arms, drained of strength yet full of grief. The chants had faded, and the candles flickered softly, but the emptiness inside him roared like a storm. He didn’t know how to say goodbye, and perhaps he never would.

Even as they held him tightly, their arms around his trembling body, he continued to cry, refusing to accept what was happening. His sobs were raw and unrelenting, each breath coming in ragged gasps. His tears soaked into their clothes, but they held on, whispering soothing words he couldn’t hear or process.

“He’s not gone,” he muttered through his sobs, his voice cracking. “He can’t be gone. He’ll wake up… he always wakes up…”

Deep down, though, he knew the truth loomed cold and harsh, but he refused to let it in. It was too much, too final. He clung to the belief that if he held on tight enough, if he refused to let go, maybe things would change. Perhaps he would wake up, and this would all be a nightmare. Maybe they could still have the future they talked about, growing old together, finding peace in each other’s arms.

But the stillness in the room said otherwise. Jes's body lay motionless, surrounded by flowers and prayers, beyond his reach. Bible kept calling his name, again and again, as if repeating it would somehow bring him back. But no one answered. Jespipat's family continued to comfort him, their hands stroking his back, their words kind but firm. They knew the pain too, yet there was nothing more to be done.