I wrote this based on a old man I met a long time ago. He's probably long gone now, but maybe he's happy, who knows. This old man was gay, so yes, there is a gay couple in it, so get over it.
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“You just… No! I can’t-“ Jason stared at him, waiting for Laurence to finish his sentence. His ocean eyes, seemingly innocent, staring back longing for forgiveness. Laurence turned on his back. Usually the bed would feel heavenly, but tonight, it felt like cardboard.
“You… make me really upset sometimes. Sometimes, I just want to slap you upside the face, and never speak to you again.” He finished. Jason wrapped his arms around Laurence, who quickly pushed them back.
“ I don’t want… ergh, this is all so annoying.” Jason jumped to position himself the same as Laurence had. Both, lying silently on their backs, looking up at the blank drywall.
“But… you also make me want to hold you and never let go.” Laurence continued his ranting. He rustled in bed until he was on his side once more, and laid his head on Jason’s chest. Closing his eyes, Laurence tried to rest. “That’s why I hate you so much. You make me so mad, but it never lasts long. In the end, I just want to be with you again. “
Laurence waited for Jason to respond. Minutes passed, and Laurence waited still. Waiting, Waiting, but nothing seems to happen, no answer to his remarks. He opened his eyes. Resting on his empty bed, Laurence shivered. He grabbed his comforter and cloaked himself in it.
“I hate you…” He sobbed.
“Why did you have to go?” He looked up to the glowing blue hue of his alarm clock, sitting next to an old picture frame, sullied by time and clumsiness.
“Seven A.M.” he sighed, “any minute now.” The door swung open. A woman with bright red hair and dark brown eyes walked in, wearing a long white gown.
“Good morning, Mr. Tate. Are you ready to put your dentures in? Breakfast is waiting.” She spoke with a light voice, seemingly mocking him. He refused to move. All he wanted to do was stare at his picture frame. The woman sighed. It seemed nothing she could do, could get this old man talking again. She placed her hand on his lower back, and raised him from the bed. As she dressed and kept him, others outside stirred with great ruckus. The woman placed Mr. Tate in his wheelchair, and turned him towards his favorite window. She looked at the weary frame and sighed. She picked it up, and placed in on the ledge for Mr. Tate. She spoke one last time before she left the room.
“Happy Birthday, Jason.”----I kinda felt bad for this old man. He was never able to get over someone he had lost years back, even in his last few days. He probably struggled hard to keep him too, seeing as the laws back then wouldn't allow him to be the way he wanted. When he lost him after trying so hard to keep him, he never really felt the same, I don't think. He never told me how he died, or what had happened.Also, I changed the names obviously.
I wrote this based on a old man I met a long time ago. He's probably long gone now, but maybe he's happy, who knows. This old man was gay, so yes, there is a gay couple in it, so get over it.
----
“You just… No! I can’t-“ Jason stared at him, waiting for Laurence to finish his sentence. His ocean eyes, seemingly innocent, staring back longing for forgiveness. Laurence turned on his back. Usually the bed would feel heavenly, but tonight, it felt like cardboard.
“You… make me really upset sometimes. Sometimes, I just want to slap you upside the face, and never speak to you again.” He finished. Jason wrapped his arms around Laurence, who quickly pushed them back.
“ I don’t want… ergh, this is all so annoying.” Jason jumped to position himself the same as Laurence had. Both, lying silently on their backs, looking up at the blank drywall.
“But… you also make me want to hold you and never let go.” Laurence continued his ranting. He rustled in bed until he was on his side once more, and laid his head on Jason’s chest. Closing his eyes, Laurence tried to rest. “That’s why I hate you so much. You make me so mad, but it never lasts long. In the end, I just want to be with you again. “
Laurence waited for Jason to respond. Minutes passed, and Laurence waited still. Waiting, Waiting, but nothing seems to happen, no answer to his remarks. He opened his eyes. Resting on his empty bed, Laurence shivered. He grabbed his comforter and cloaked himself in it.
“I hate you…” He sobbed.
“Why did you have to go?” He looked up to the glowing blue hue of his alarm clock, sitting next to an old picture frame, sullied by time and clumsiness.
“Seven A.M.” he sighed, “any minute now.” The door swung open. A woman with bright red hair and dark brown eyes walked in, wearing a long white gown.
“Good morning, Mr. Tate. Are you ready to put your dentures in? Breakfast is waiting.” She spoke with a light voice, seemingly mocking him. He refused to move. All he wanted to do was stare at his picture frame. The woman sighed. It seemed nothing she could do, could get this old man talking again. She placed her hand on his lower back, and raised him from the bed. As she dressed and kept him, others outside stirred with great ruckus. The woman placed Mr. Tate in his wheelchair, and turned him towards his favorite window. She looked at the weary frame and sighed. She picked it up, and placed in on the ledge for Mr. Tate. She spoke one last time before she left the room.
“Happy Birthday, Jason.”----I kinda felt bad for this old man. He was never able to get over someone he had lost years back, even in his last few days. He probably struggled hard to keep him too, seeing as the laws back then wouldn't allow him to be the way he wanted. When he lost him after trying so hard to keep him, he never really felt the same, I don't think. He never told me how he died, or what had happened.Also, I changed the names obviously.