Dear Sonnyboy,

Well, I have a lot on my mind today and it's about Mikey. Maybe, it's time I tell you about my relationship with Mikey. Justin keeps telling me I should call him Michael after all he isn't a kid anymore. Maybe, he is right. Maybe, it is a way of prolonging our friendship and our youth and my hold on him. Believe it or not, some of my problems with Justin have been due to Mikey or my perception of him and what he thinks of me. Mikey has had me on a pedestal since the first time we met when I helped him out with some boys that were taunting him. Unfortunately, I have fallen from that pedestal more times than I can count. Yet, Mikey picks me up, cleans away the tarnish and puts me back on the pedestal. He can't seem to find the superglue and old Elmer's doesn't do the job. Michael keeps seeing me as some kind of superhero like his Captain Astro. Boy, Michael sounds and even looks weird. He's in his 30's and still sees me as a superhero. Look at that fucking comic he created with Justin's art. It's me. How can I live up to a fuckin' comic? I can't! I won't! I won't even try! At least Justin sees me realistically. Hell, he split because he knew I wouldn't change. I wouldn't give him what he needed, but I gave him all of me that I could. I miss Justin. He was the best part of me. But I digress.

I should start at the beginning. I had been kicked out of parochial school and I was going to public school for the first time. I knew no one. I hadn't grown up with any of these brats and I didn't care if I got to know any of them. I had already realized I was gay. I knew it all along I guess, but I wasn't sure how I would fare at this new school. I was a loner, had always been a loner, needed to be a loner, and didn't care if I remained a loner. Then Mikey came into my life and he changed all that or at least his family did. I am getting ahead of myself. Let's go back a bit. Well, I started school. Got my classes and I proceeded to get acquainted with the routine and the rules of this fucking new school that I would rather not be in. I was smart, damn smart but I didn't care about grades, friends or anything else involving school except sports. I was good at sports. I was tall for my age so I was good at track and football. I could hurdle with ease. My legs were so long, it took no effort to get over the hurdles, and I loved the contact that football brought. Most of the time, I hid a hard-on in my cup. I didn't care. Even at my age, I still get hard quickly; just a thought will do it, especially a thought of Justin. Sorry, I can't stop thinking about Justin. I miss him so. Why did I push him away? I keep asking myself.

A few days after I started school, I was walking home and I saw a few people taunting and pushing this poor boy who couldn't defend himself. He was smaller than I was. He was cowering in a corner. I knew one of the boys was getting up the nerve to hit him. I saw it in his eyes. I knew the look. I had seen it many times. Too many to count. Too many to remember but I do. I ran over to them. I ran because I didn't want what happened to me so many times to happen to him. He didn't deserve it. Neither did I. Yes, Sonnyboy. I was abused mentally, verbally, and physically, but that's another story. Not for this letter. I pulled Mikey, though then I didn't even know his name, behind me. I stood in front of the boys with my don't-fuckaround -with-me face and I bellowed at them. I scared them and they ran. I told them to stay clear of me and clear of the boy or I would beat them up. Bullies are such scaredy-cats. As they were running, I ask him his name. He stuttered out Michael. He was still shaking. He was so scared. I put my arm around his shoulder and asked him how far away he lived. It seems we lived close by, so I told him I would walk him home. That was my first mistake or a godsend. I don't know. I didn't know then. I don't know now. Now, I just say it was a mixed blessing. We both were gay. He invited me into the house. I had hesitated, but no one was expecting me home at any time. No one at my house really cared when I dawdled in. For me, the later the better was my motto, especially when it came to going home. Nothing good ever happened there, only misery. At least, that was the way I saw it. It was the offering of food and homemade pie that got me. I was hungry and I didn't really want to go home. I dreaded it. Never knew what to expect. Was tonight a night I would be spared a beating? Those nights were so few lately. Anything could set off Jack. I didn't even call him dad anymore. Not in my head. He was no father to me. "Pie, you said." I said to Mikey. When he had told me Michael, I said "I will call you Mikey." He smiled. It stuck.

Debbie had come home from the diner where she worked to cook dinner for him. She spotted me and she asked me an insane amount of questions as she fed me some food and pie. She fed me lasagna the first time. I had never tasted anything like it. It was so good. I actually had thirds. I was stuffed and hadn't even gotten to the apple pie but the pie was hot and fresh and she put whip cream on top of it. I had two pieces. Hell, I was a growing boy of 14. I still hadn't made it to my full stature. I was only 5'10 1/2 inches. Mikey told Debbie what I had done for him and she was grateful. I found myself promising to walk with Mikey every morning to school. I couldn't promise afternoons because of my sports practice and such.

If for nothing else but the food, I would continue to be Mikey's protector. His house had a warmth, a loving atmosphere, not at all like the cold place I called home. I started to gravitate there. I would rather be there than home. Debbie took a little getting used to. I had never experienced such a loving person. She just accepted me. The third day, she saw me, my shirt was opened and I had forgotten to hide the bruises before I came in. It had been a very rough night. Not only did I have bruises on my arms, my chest, but a black eye as well. I couldn't have hidden that. Debbie nearly blew a gasket. She knew. She didn't take any of my excuses. She knew. She gave me advice. I didn't take it. I couldn't. I don't know why, but I told her how unwanted I was, how Jack had wanted me aborted. Gus, you should have seen her look, utter horror. How could anyone think that way? From then on, I was her family, her kin. She became my substitute mom. I told her a lot about myself at first, then as the years progressed, I let less show on my face, and I spoke even less. Debbie always could read me though. Somehow, she always knew what was wrong. Mother's instinct, I called it. I needed her even more than Mikey, so I kept Mikey close, too close at times. I didn't want to lose Debbie or Vic for that matter. Vic was gay. I was gay. I had someone to talk to. A man who understood things a woman wouldn't or couldn't. Finally, I had a family. I didn't want to do anything to change that. Mikey and I became even closer.

It was very hard for Mikey when I went to Penn State. He was alone again. I was having the time of my life. It was college after all. Drugs, liquor, and partying. Perfect for me. Sex wasn't bad either. My mind went on a tangent again. Back to the story.

We became fast friends, best friends, something I had never expected. I never expected anyone to idolize me like he did. He still does. I loved his adoring looks, his adulation, and his smile whenever I looked his way. I needed that more than I knew. Someone cared about me, really cared. I had never experienced anything close to that. There was no love in my home, especially for me. I found myself always in protective mode. I found myself going over to his house for comfort, advice, friendship and just to be. I could just be myself in his room. I didn't have to pretend. Mikey accepted me warts and all. He didn't care. As I got more battle weary, he accepted that too. We didn't speak. We didn't have to. His mother adopted me as a son. When times got real rough, I was bruised and hurting, I would sneak out of my house and go to Mikey. Debbie never locked the door then. I would climb the stairs silently and sneak into his room. If he was asleep, he would wake and he would hold me, I would cry and he would hold me until we both fell asleep. He never asked. I should say rarely asked because he would know. There would be new bruises, a bloody nose, or some other telltale sign of what the night had been. Sometimes all of the above.

I loved Mikey. I loved him for accepting me, I loved him for adoring me, I loved him for caring about me and comforting me, I loved him for allowing me to cry and I loved him for being my first friend. How could I not be best friends with Mikey? I loved his loyalty to the extreme, his jealous moments over the years. At times, I didn't even mind his whininess, but the tattletaling I could live without. He was very possessive of me as we grew up. He never grew out of it. He was in love with me but I wasn't with him. I wouldn't allow myself the luxury. I couldn't afford to lose his friendship, which I so desperately needed, for a quick fuck or even worse a relationship gone bad. I couldn't take the chance of putting him into a sexual relationship with me. It marked disaster in my book. I wanted to keep the relationship stable. I could handle friendship. I had decided most relationships soured anyway, so why bother. Just look at my parents. Debbie didn't have a mate. I knew of no one that was truly happy in one. I kept him at arms length and we never finished what we started, but you know about that. Love scared me. Still does. Guess that is why I keep making it tough for Justin. Why I keep pushing him away.

Mikey's and my relationship is a little strange. Weird even. I need him even more than he needs me. I keep him at arm's length but I reel him in every so often so that he continues to dangle with hope, a hope that will never be realized. Some may say our relationship is sick. At the best, it is unhealthy for the two of us but it is all we got. I cast the fishing line with the bait and he is the fish so eager to get caught and swung on the line. I reel him in, play with him a little, then throw him back into the pool to swim for a while till I need to be with him again, play with him, feel his adulation.

Justin adores me too, in ways, unfathomable to Mikey. In ways, Mikey could never fulfill. I need them both, but with Justin, he keeps me on my toes, he calls me on my antics. At least, he used to. Now, he is gone. I pushed him too far. All I needed to do was tell him I cared even if I didn't say "I love you." I was too stubborn, too set in my ways. AND DAMN IT, TOO FUCKING AFRAID. I AM A REAL COWARD. AND I AM MISERABLE!!!!!! I don't have the guts to rectify it. I need Justin so much it hurts. Actually, Justin's relationship with me would be good and very healthy if I just let it rise on its own but I keep kneading it and adding all these twists and try to crack the dough. I may have been prodding the dough a little too much this time. It may not be able to rise again. Will Justin have the strength to tackle me again if I allow us to reconcile. I know one word from me and he would drop the fiddler. Justin hasn't returned. Not yet. He always did. Why is it taking so long this time?

Am I willing to grow up? Am I willing to allow Mikey to grow up? This letter was supposed to be about Mikey but Justin keeps getting in the mix. It is because they are intertwined. One is night, the other is day and I am the horizon that holds the two apart sometimes coming together at dawn and dusk but most of the time, apart.

I started this letter with "Believe it or not, some of my problems with Justin have been due to Mikey or my perception of him and what he thinks of me. It is true. I don't want Mikey to truly know me. I can't. I have shined my faade to perfection and he has accepted it completely as the true me. I am afraid of him knowing the true me. Justin actually knows more of me in some ways because when we lived together, the mask would come down and the playfulness would begin. I would show a lot of myself and then I would get scared and hide myself again. But we lived together and I couldn't hold the faade 24/7. It was too tiring. That is why I don't understand why Justin can't see now that I love him. I let him in so much. It nearly killed me to drop so many walls. But, I couldn't drop all of them for Mikey's sake. I couldn't fall off the Pedestal anymore. I just couldn't allow it. With Justin, one foot was always trying to reach the floor. Sometimes it did. Sometimes both did. But I would quickly jump back on before Mikey noticed. At least, when it was due to Justin.

Well, I hope Mikey has a good life with Ben if he doesn't suffocate him first. Ben may be HIV+ but I think Mikey will kill him first. I really do. He is good at suffocating people with his caring. Mikey does those things to extreme, while I am on a self-destructive agenda. I better stop this letter before I turn maudlin. I feel a bout coming on.

Love ya, Sonnyboy.

Dad

PS. Did I ever tell you, that night you were born was the best night of my life? Two babies came to me. I love you both. I am in love with Justin. Now if I can only say it to him. If! If! If! God, I hate that word. Gus, I don't know what to do. Any suggestions? Why did I just add that? I am not going to give this to you and you are way to young to be giving advice. Oh well.

PSS. I think I will give a copy of this to Justin too. This way, he can understand Mikey. I want both of you to have your own copy someday when I get the nerve to give these to you. Guess I need to change the signature too. Well bye, till next time.