Suicide Notes (16 page)

Day 37

No one ever tells you that when your heart breaks, you can feel it. But you can. It feels like something has crumbled inside you and the pieces are falling into your stomach. It hurts more than any punch ever could. You stop breathing, and for a while you can’t remember how. When you finally do, it feels like your throat has closed up, like you’re trying to suck air through a straw.

I tried to kill myself because of what happened with Burke. Not Allie and Burke.
Me
and Burke. During Christmas break.

It really started a couple of months before that. I guess you could say I had a crush on Burke. Actually, it’s not even a guess—I
did
have a crush on Burke. Big-time.

When Burke first asked Allie out, I was happy for her. I knew she liked him, and she was so excited when he finally talked to her. Besides, it was just a movie. She even asked me to go along. She said it was so she wouldn’t be tempted to do too much with Burke. She’d read in some magazine that guys will be more interested if you play it cool, and that the best way to do that is to go on group dates where you can’t exactly climb all over each other without someone giving you a hard time about it. I was her group.

The funny thing is, Burke didn’t mind. The three of us went to a movie. I don’t even remember what it was. Burke sat in the middle. There I was, right next to him, with Allie on his other side. He even shared his popcorn with me. It was like the three of us were on a date, although I didn’t think about that then. I just thought it was cool of him.

I remember reaching into the popcorn about halfway through the movie. Burke reached in at the same time, and for a few seconds our fingers touched. I don’t remember who pulled away first, but I remember feeling this strange sensation. I don’t even know what to call it. A tickle maybe, in my stomach. I put my fingers in my mouth and sucked the fake butter off, like I was trying to find out what Burke tasted like. I didn’t touch that popcorn for the rest of the movie.

After that, Allie started spending more time with Burke. At first they almost always asked me along. Then one night Allie went out alone with him. She didn’t even tell me she was going, but she called me when she got home. “He kissed me,” she said. She sounded all excited, like she’d just won a million dollars.

“He did?” I asked her. “Why?”

“What do you mean
why
?” said Allie. She laughed, like it was the dumbest question anyone could ask. “Because he wanted to.”

She told me all about it. They went for a walk. Burke bought them ice cream cones. He joked around, getting ice cream on her nose. Then he licked it off. And then he kissed her. I remember exactly what she said. “His lips were soft, like a kitten.” I thought that was a really weird way to describe someone’s lips. At the same time, I knew exactly what she meant.

I tried to be excited for her. But the whole time I was telling her how happy I was for her, I was really thinking that I wanted it to be my nose Burke was licking ice cream off and me kissing his kitten lips. And the more I thought about that, the more scared I got. I think that was the first time I realized that I didn’t just like Burke, I had a thing for him.

After that, I didn’t want to be around Burke and Allie. At least not when they were together. It was too much. Every time I saw Burke I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I liked him. He’s got these amazing brown eyes and a killer smile. When he looks at you, you feel like he’s really
looking
at you, if you know what I mean. I wanted him to look at me like that all the time.

But of course he was always looking at Allie. And she was always talking about him. To me. And there was absolutely no way I could tell her why I didn’t want to hear it. So for a few months I was all crushed out on him and totally miserable. I got jealous every time Allie talked about him or when I saw them holding hands or kissing.

Then, right before Christmas, the three of us were at this party at Rebecca Miller’s house. Her parents were out of town, which means we were drinking a little. Or in my case, a lot. I think I had a couple of beers, which really does a number on your head when you’re not used to drinking.

The weird thing is that I felt happy and sad all at the same time. The more beer I drank and the more I watched Allie with Burke, the more confused I got. I wanted my best friend back. But I also couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like for Burke to be as into me as he was into Allie. I’d never thought about another guy like that—or about
anybody
like that. The truth is, I didn’t think about sex all that much, because when I did, it scared me. It wasn’t until that night at the party that I knew
why
it scared me.

When I realized what I was feeling, I thought I might be sick, so I went upstairs to the bathroom where no one would hear me. I knelt in front of the toilet and waited for everything to come up. I remember my head was spinning a little. I closed my eyes, but that just made it worse, so I hung over the bowl, staring at the water and feeling my insides churn.

I didn’t throw up, though, and after a while I felt a little bit better. I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. I hated what I saw. I wanted to punch the guy in the mirror in the face for being such a freak. It was like I wasn’t even looking at myself, I was looking at someone I’d never seen before, someone I didn’t want to see ever again.

That’s when the door opened. I’d forgotten to lock it. And before I could say something, in walked Burke. He looked at me and smiled this big, almost-drunk smile. “Hey, man,” he said. “You done?”

I couldn’t say anything, so I just nodded.

“Cool,” he said. “I need to take a major leak.”

He didn’t wait for me to leave. He walked over to the toilet, unzipped, and pulled himself out. I tried not to look, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t even care if he saw me looking, but he didn’t notice anything. When he was done, he turned around and looked at me while he zipped up.

“You look wasted, buddy,” he said, grinning again.

He was standing right in front of me. Even drunk, he was beautiful. “This party is killer, isn’t it?” he said. His breath smelled like beer, but I didn’t care.

“Yeah,” I said. “Killer.” I wanted to get out of that bathroom, but I couldn’t leave. My feet wouldn’t move.

“Hey,” said Burke. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

My heart did this weird flip-flop thing when he said that. For a second—just a split second—I had this idea that he was going to ask me out. I don’t know why, but I imagined him asking me to go to a movie or something. And the thing is, at that moment I really wanted him to. I remembered the popcorn, and his fingers, and that tingling feeling hit me again.

“What?” I said, barely able to get the word out.

Burke looked all serious for a second. “It’s about Allie,” he said. He sounded nervous, which wasn’t like him at all. Burke doesn’t get nervous. He’s always cool. Then
I
got even more nervous, because I was imagining all kinds of things he could say next.

Burke looked right into my eyes. Everything stopped while I waited for him to ask me his question. Then he said, “What should I get her for Christmas?”

It took me a few seconds to understand what he’d said. When it finally registered, I was surprised at how sad I was. But I couldn’t let him know that. I had to think of something to say. “Uh, she likes clothes,” I said.

Burke shook his head. “I’m no good at picking out that shit,” he told me.

“I can go with you,” I said before I knew it. “We can pick something out together.” As soon as I said it, I felt like a moron. What kind of guy tells another guy he’ll go shopping with him? But all I could think about right then was how much I wanted to do something with Burke. Anything. Even shop for his girlfriend’s Christmas present. That’s how I was thinking of Allie, as his girlfriend. Not
my
best friend.

Burke laughed. “Cool,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Cool.” Then he patted my arm. “You’re a cool guy,” he said.

My heart was racing so fast I thought I might be having a heart attack.

And then I did it. I couldn’t stop myself. Burke was touching my arm, we’d just made a kind of date, and I was suddenly happier than I’d ever been in my whole life. Before I even knew what I was doing, I leaned forward and kissed him right on the mouth. I remember thinking, for the few seconds our lips were touching, that Allie had been right. His lips were as soft as a kitten.

He pushed me away, but not hard. “Hey there,” he said, kind of laughing. “Don’t get all gay on me. It’s not like I asked you out or something.” He laughed again.

I didn’t say anything. I’ve never been so scared in my life. Not because of what I thought he might do, but because of what
I’d
done. I tried to think of something to say to him to make it all go away, something to explain why I’d kissed him, but I knew there was nothing that would erase that kiss.

I guess Burke saw that I wasn’t laughing with him. He stopped laughing and his eyebrows wrinkled up, like he just realized he’d been tricked. “What’s up?” he asked. He stared into my eyes for a few seconds. “Wait,” he said then, pulling back and looking at me as if he’d never seen me before. “Are you a fag?”

Now, I’d been called a fag before. But not in the way Burke meant it. Sometimes guys just say that, like “You’re such a fag,” meaning you’re doing something lame. Burke meant something else, though. Suddenly, that word was the most dangerous word in the English language.

I tried to answer him. “I . . . I really like you,” I said.

Burke stepped back. “Holy shit,” he said. He had this look on his face that terrified me. “Holy shit,” he said again.

“Burke,” I said, reaching out to him. “Burke, don’t . . .”

He put his hands up, blocking me from getting any nearer. He shook his head. “You
are
a fag,” he said.

He pushed past me and left the bathroom. A few seconds later, everything in my stomach came up. I puked all over the floor and all over myself. It felt like I was throwing up my heart. I was crying and couldn’t breathe, and I wanted to be dead.

I cleaned up the mess on the floor with some towels, but my clothes were still all dirty. I just wanted to get out of there. That’s when I remembered that to get out I would have to go down the stairs and through the party. Allie would be there, and I knew that by now Burke would have told her what happened. What I was. I couldn’t face her.

I thought about going out the window, but I was still feeling like crap, and I was afraid I’d fall and make things even worse. Finally I went into the hall. I stood at the top of the stairs, listening to the people laughing below me. I imagined they were laughing at me, that Burke had told them all about how I’d kissed him, about how I was a fag, and that they thought it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. I just knew they were all waiting for the big fag to appear so that they could make fun of me.

There was nothing else to do. I went down those stairs as quickly as I could and went straight for the door. I didn’t look at anyone, and prayed no one would stop me. And they didn’t. That’s the only good thing that happened that night. No one stopped me. I made it to the door and out of that house, and then I ran home and up to my room.

I haven’t seen Allie since then. I’ve talked to her, though. When I didn’t hear from her for three days, I knew that Burke had told her. On Christmas Eve, when I couldn’t take it any more, I called her. When she answered I said, “I just want to say Merry Christmas.”

She didn’t say anything for a while. I could hear her breathing. Then she said, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re gay?”

“I’m not,” I said. “Allie, you have to believe me.”

“I thought we were friends,” she said, and hung up. That’s the last thing she ever said to me.

So now you know the whole story about why I got all dramatic on New Year’s Eve, and why I’m here. I’m gay. I know it sounds stupid. Tons of people are gay, and you’d think it would be no big deal. But I was really hoping I wasn’t, that it was all just a big mix-up and I’d get over it. After the stuff with Rankin, and what happened—or didn’t happen—with Sadie, though, I know that I won’t get over it. It’s what I am.

I read once that a third of all gay kids try to kill themselves. They say it’s because being gay is so hard in this world. They say that we won’t stop trying to kill ourselves until more people understand us, and until we live in a world where it’s okay for a guy to love another guy. That’s probably true. But there will never be a world where it’s okay to fall in love with your best friend’s boyfriend.

Day 38

So now we’ve established that not only did I try to kill myself, but that I’m gay, too. That’s like having two cherries on your dog crap sundae. Or extra nuts.

And now, of course, it’s all Cat Poop wants to talk about. Today he asked me to tell him more about what Rankin and I did together. It was completely embarrassing talking about that. Then he asked me how I felt about having sex. I told him it felt great, but that the best thing for me was thinking that Rankin
wanted
to do those things with me. It wasn’t the sex, really. I mean, you can kind of do that on your own, right? But having this other person want to do it with you, that’s pretty special. It means he likes you. At least, it should.

I keep wondering what Rankin was thinking when he did those things with me. Had someone done those things to him? Is he really gay? Did he like me at all? I guess I won’t ever be able to answer those questions. I asked the doc, and he said that when people hurt us, the best thing to do isn’t to ask why they did it but to remind ourselves that it wasn’t our fault.

In other words, either he doesn’t know what Rankin’s deal is or won’t tell me.

Either way, I’m not sure I believe him. Maybe it
was
partly my fault. It’s not like I made Rankin stop. It’s not like I didn’t
like
what we did. It’s not like I didn’t want to do it. At least some part of me wanted to.

To change the subject, I asked if Martha was going to be okay. Martha hasn’t said anything since that night—not even “frex”—and I worry that she’s totally regressing, which is a term I learned from Cat Poop. Basically, it means that whatever good has happened to her might have been erased by what happened with Sadie. I love how shrinks have a special word for everything that can be wrong with you.

Cat Poop said he didn’t know. But there was something in his voice that made me think he didn’t believe she would be all right. I wanted to ask him more about it, because I figured it had something to do with why she’s here in the first place. But I knew he wouldn’t tell me anything, so I just said I hoped she would be okay.

I found out later, though. I asked Frank. Like I said, Frank can be kind of a jerk. But he likes to think he knows a lot, so when I saw him later on, I started talking about how awful what happened to Sadie was. “Martha was really upset about it,” I said, knowing he would want to tell me everything he knew about it.

“Yeah, well, who can blame her?” said Frank. “She probably thought it was happening again.”

“Thought what was happening?” I said.

He laughed again. “Oh, right. They don’t let you listen to the news in here. Kid’s dad shot her mother.”

“Martha’s dad?” I said.

“Blew her open with a shotgun,” said Frank. “Then killed himself. The kid saw the whole thing. When they found her, she was sitting between them on the kitchen floor, holding that damn stuffed rabbit. She’d been there two or three days. Aunt or something went over after she kept calling and getting no answer.”

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“It was all over the papers,” said Frank. “I forgot, they only let you look at the funny papers.” He laughed. “Funny papers—get it?”

I ignored him and walked away. All I could think about was Martha sitting in that kitchen. No wonder she flipped when she saw Sadie. Poor kid. And I thought I had problems. If we’re keeping score, I think Martha just pulled way ahead of the rest of us.