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With my arms wrapped loosely around my knees, I sat facing the gravestone that read "GIBSON" in large, bold letters

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With my arms wrapped loosely around my knees, I sat facing the gravestone that read "GIBSON" in large, bold letters. The rain had started to drizzle, soaking through my school trousers and dampening the grass beneath me, but I didn't budge. My eyes stayed fixed on the stone, my fingers gripping a crumpled letter tightly, and my heart laid bare to the cold October air.

"Dad, if you're listening, I could really use your help." I said it quietly, not sure who else could hear me, but hoping that maybe—just maybe—my words could be carried by the wind to wherever he was now. If he was anywhere at all. What was it they said? The afterlife? Heaven? I didn't even know if I believed in that stuff, but I needed him. Now more than ever.

I shifted slightly, picking at the wet grass with my free hand, memories flooding back as I stared at the headstone. "Beth, close your ears," I warned half-heartedly, letting a sad smile tug at the corner of my mouth. "This is guy talk."

A memory of my sister teasing me flashed in my mind, her laughter echoing from the past. "So, I finally got a girlfriend," I continued. "And guess what? She loves me back." My voice cracked slightly at the admission. "So, I guess the joke's on you for always teasing me, thinking I'd end up with my Elmo teddy or something. It's not my fault I was obsessed."

I chuckled softly, though it sounded more like a sigh, and the humor quickly faded. "I really love her, Dad," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper now. "But I'm so fucking scared." My heart twisted painfully in my chest as I hung my head. "I want to tell her—tell her everything—but I'm terrified she'll walk away from me."

My throat tightened as I tried to push the words out. "I feel like there's something wrong with me. Like I'm... tainted. Infected. And I don't know how to make it stop."

A shudder coursed through me, and I felt a tear slide down my cheek. Wiping it away roughly, I took a shaky breath and continued. "I wish you were here, Dad. I wish I had a Rafiki or something—a magical cartoon baboon who could take me to a river and let me talk to you one more time." My voice broke. "I don't want to live like this anymore."

I paused, staring at the cold stone, willing it to answer me, to give me some kind of sign that things were going to be okay. But there was only silence, the wind rustling through the trees overhead.

Because the truth was, I was a mess.

I couldn't get any part of myself to work in harmony. My body, my heart, my mind—they were all at odds with each other. No matter which one I tried to follow, I always ended up back here, in the same place. Thinking about her. Wanting her. Needing her. Seeking her..

That had to mean something, right? It had to be a sign.

"Am I going to be okay, Dad?" I asked softly, placing my palm against the rough stone. "Am I ever going to get over this?"

I wasn't expecting an answer, but the sound of a voice from behind me nearly made me jump out of my skin. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt." I turned to see Darren Lynch standing a few feet away, holding a bouquet of flowers.

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