Gone (Ianthony)

One Month, Two Weeks, and Twelve Hours Before

Anthony:    

Everyone around me was crying.

It was a strange sensation; everyone was expecting me to be crying the hardest because he was my best friend and the most important person in my life and it was his funeral and people I'd never even seen before were bawling their eyes out and there I sat, in between Ian's sister and my mom, and I was going up next to speak and I didn't want to and I really wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

But, I promised my mom. She told me as soon as the Funeral That Shouldn't Be Happening was over, she would tell me where my dad was. I just had to stand in front of all of Ian's family and our friends and pretend Ian was dead and talk about what a great person he was.

I had been tuning out the whole ceremony. So far, his mom and his sister had spoken, and his dad was up there right now. I'd never seen his dad cry before today.

Next was my turn. 

There was an empty coffin next to the podium. The ceremony was outside, and it was a partly cloudy day. One of those days where the sun would be out for a few minutes and then hide behind a cloud for a few more.

I looked at the ground. Ian's dad was telling some story about when he taught Ian how to ride a bicycle. 

The whole time, I thought about how much Ian would hate this. When he got home, I would tell him about it, and he would laugh and say "that's so stupid" because he always thought funerals were so pointless.

"When I die," he had told me, a long, long time ago, "I want my funeral to be happy. I want my favorite songs to be playing while all my friends drink and stand around in circles and tell funny stories about me. People won't cry and they'll all be wearing bright colors. Anthony, you promise me that if you're still alive when I die, God forbid, don't let them throw me a sad funeral where everyone wears black clothes and relatives I haven't seen in years cry just to make it look like they even remembered my middle name. Promise me you won't let that happen."    

Was it still considered a broken promise if he wasn't dead yet?

And then, my mom was patting my leg, and the empty podium sat up there, waiting for me.

I took a deep breath before standing up and slowly walking up there.

I hadn't planned out what I was going to say.

The pastt three days, I told myself I would come up here, make up some bullshit about how great of a person he was with some quotes he would have hated, maybe even cry a little. But as I stood up there, scanning the face of every black-wearing member before me, I found it hard to breathe. Because that was the first time I relaized this might be the only funeral he would get. What if he really was dead? What if he was leading me to the site of his dead body? What if I'd never see him again?

I shook my head and leaned against the podium. My eyes were watering. I wished they wouldn't. I tried so hard to believe Ian was alive, that this wasn't the real funeral for my best friend. But the thought clouded my mind like those clouds shielded the sun, and when I spoke, my voice shook.

"When I was in the sixth grade, I didn't really have any friends."

I hated this. I hated my mom for making me do this.

"And then I had to work on this project with the new kid. When I was ten, I had no idea how much of an impact he would make on my life." I was crying now. "I had no idea he would remain my best friend throughout the rest of school and even after. I had no idea he would be the only person I could trust, the only one I could turn to with all of my stupid problems and he would actually listen and give advice and a shoulder to cry on. I had no idea what a real 'best friend' was until I met him."

I couldn't look out into the crowd.

"His name was Ian."

I just stared at the wooden podium, praying that a thunderstorm would come out of nowhere and I would get struck by lightning and hopefully then be able to be with Ian.

"Because of him, I got to live my dream job. Because of him, I got to wake up every morning and relive the realization that I was living a life I couldn't even fantasize. I couldn't ever imagine my life without him."

I always imagined that if someone really close to me died, I would be able to feel their presence somehow. Like, I don't know, even a gust of wind or something. But maybe that was something only seen in movies.

"The past few months, Ian had always told me things like 'you know, you don't have to live here. You don't have to put up with me. You don't have to give up your happiness for me.' But what he didn't realize is that I was only happy with him, no matter how bad he was feeling. I didn't really even realize it myself until a few weeks ago."

I finally looked up. I saw Ian's family and all his friends and relatives I'd never met, I saw his therapist and doctors, and I couldn't help but feel so goddamn selfish right at that moment, because I knew I loved him more than all of them combined.

"I don't know if God is real, but if he is, I will never be able to thank him enough for making me work on that project with the new kid. Because Ian Andrew Hecox taught me what a best friend was. He taught me what love was. He taught me so much, and I will never regret a single second I spent with him."

I knew I was talking too much, but I couldn't stop. Even though I was completely against the funeral and kept telling myself that he was alive and soon enough he would be right there with me, but that one thought just ate away at me.

"I just wish I could tell him one last time. Because I didn't tell him nearly enough. I just wanna be able to hug him and tell him how important he was to me and how much I loved him."

I looked up and took a deep breath.

"I will never forget one thing he said to me the night before he disappeared. We were sitting on the couch, and it was late and I was tired, and he just turned to me and said, 'I just want you to know that after I die and go to Heaven, I will personally find God and tell him thank you for somehow making someone as worthless as me cross paths with someone as amazing as you.'"

I said one final thing before exiting off the back of the stage and going straight to my car:

"And I hope God slaps him across the face and tells him that statement would be entirely correct if he reversed the names."