Which was today.

I climbed out of bed and took my time as I showered. Today was going to be one of the hardest days of my life. Today I would bury one of my best friends and the thought punched a massive hole in my heart.

Under the warm spray I let myself remember back to when we were kids, back to when life was simple. When life was about getting out of chores to ride your bike down to the Pier and meet up with your friends. When the afternoon was heavy with the smoky aroma of dinner being cooked on the backyard barbeque. When your friends came around and you snuck beers from your dad’s cooler and drank them on the sandy beach as the sun went down. When your dream of being in a band was just that … a dream.

What I’d give to go back …

In my memories it was always summer time and the days were bright with sunshine and the salty tang of a warm sea breeze. They were carefree days, when adulthood was something we chased and wanted just so we could stay out after dark, drink beer and get laid. Because back then, when we were kids, being an adult seemed like one big party.

In my memories, it would always be the five of us.

In my memories, Armie would always be smiling.

Armie and me … we had wandered these streets as kids, looking for ways to occupy our young minds. Then our two had become three with Jesse, then four and five with Tommy and Zack. By the age of twelve, we were already a band.

Now our five was to become four when we buried our friend.

I let go of the wall that contained my grief and let the tears fall. I rubbed my hands to my eyes and let my face crumple.

Yeah. What I’d give to go back …

I drew in a deep breath and moaned. The tears needed to stop. I had to get it together. Pull my shit together and get through today.

I had no idea what lay beyond today. None whatsoever.

I just had to get through this.

Just. Get. Through. This.

* * * * *

It was a bright Fall day. The blue sky was a clear arc above us, the sun warm on our backs. As we stared at Armie’s coffin waiting to descent into his final resting place, the preacher spoke about great men and the footprints they left behind.

To control my tears and the urge to sob, I focused on the purple stole the preacher wore around his neck. I missed Armie. I missed him so bad. And to think I would never see him again. No! I sucked in a deep breath. I wouldn’t fall apart now.

Jesse stood to my left and Harlow to my right. Her fingers curled around mine. I could feel her stoicism radiating off her rigid body as she stood so straight and so strong beside me.

As they lowered Armie’s coffin into the ground, my heart finally broke and I faltered. Kelsey’s sobs were my undoing. I put my hands to my face and let my tears fall freely.

Why hadn’t I told Armie to get off the road?

Why did I have to leave right at that moment? A few minutes later and Armie would still be alive.

I ached to go back in time and change the course of events.

Harlow looked up at me and squeezed my hand. Her eyes were full of tears.

“You can do this,” she whispered and despite the pain ricocheting across my chest, I knew she was right. I could do this. I would get through this.

I didn’t have any other choice.

* * * * *

HARLOW

I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d wanted to drink himself into oblivion. Hell, I wanted to.

But he didn’t touch a drop. Even as his friends, including Jesse, sank into the amber depths of their bourbon bottles, Heath didn’t touch a single drop of alcohol.

“I do stupid shit when I drink,” he reminded me regretfully.

Armie’s parents held the wake at his grandparents’ home in Bellflower. The old timber and stone home brimmed to overflowing with close friends of Armie and the band. Heath spent a lot of time with Armie’s family, talking about old times and the crazy things Armie would do. He would laugh that infectious laugh of his, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Outwardly he was broad and strong, while inwardly he was breaking apart.

Much later, when the sun began to set, he found me on the porch. His face was sad.

“I need to be away from it all,” he whispered.

We left at dusk and without a word I returned to his house with him.

He stood in the half light of his room, his shoulders hunched, his big hands covering his face. He looked so handsome in his suit pants and black tailored shirt. The skull ring on his left hand was bright in the dull light.

“Should I go?” I asked. “Do you want to be alone?”

He looked at me, heartbroken. Pain etched his face and he shook his head. “No. Please don’t go.”

I ran him a bath and together we sank into it. Candlelight shone on the porcelain tiles. I sat behind him amongst the bubbles and he leaned back into me, his head falling against my shoulder.

“I don’t know where to go from here.”

“Forward.” I said.

“I know. I just don’t know how we’re going to do it.”

I gently caressed his bare shoulder. It was slippery with water and bubbles.

“Just put one foot in front of the other. Day by day.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then his head relaxed against my chest and he ran his fingers down his face.

“I feel I’ve lost my right hand and I don’t know how the band with survive without him. I was talking to the guys today, and we don’t know if we should keep going or not.”

I thought for a moment as my fingers swept up and down the length of his muscular arms.

“Bands have kept going after the death of a band member. Metallica. ACDC. Avenged Sevenfold. Ozzy went on after Randy died.”

“But some don’t. Look at Zeppelin.”

I wrapped my arms around the broad expanse of his chest and held him tight. “I’m not sure, but I suspect they didn’t make any major decisions on the night of their friend’s funeral.”

I felt him close his eyes and for the first time in days, felt him relax.

“You’re right. It’s too soon.” His strong fingers curled around my wrists and he sighed.

“Where do you think we go? When we die?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I like the idea of reincarnation, so we all get another chance. But at the same time, I like to think that our loved ones are waiting for us when it’s time to go.”

He drew in a deep breath to control his emotion, but his voice broke as he asked, “Where do you think Armie is?”

I felt him tremble against me and I held him just a little bit tighter.

“With Hendrix, Randy and Dimebag somewhere.” I whispered, my lips brushing against his ear.

Later, we towelled off and slipped into bed. Without a word he pulled me into his arms and held me against his warm body. His big hands cupped my jaw as he kissed me.

“Please,” he whispered into the darkness, “just for tonight … one last night … please just make it right.”

He rolled me onto my back and was between my thighs in a breath. Without hesitating he pushed into me, and a sigh escaped him as he pressed his hips to mine.

He took it slow, his hands whispering along the length of my body, his lips moving rhythmically across mine as he kissed me so deeply I could feel it through to my very core.

Shadows danced on the ceiling and the bedroom wall next to us as we moved in perfect symphony. There was no need for words. We were just two bodies moving together in the darkness. Desperate for pain relief. Chasing some kind of brief respite through our physical pleasure. We sighed, our breaths deep and lazy.

Sometime during the early hours he fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. His beautiful long lashes fanned his cheeks and his body relaxed into the bed. But he didn’t move from my arms. If I tried to disentangle myself from him he would only pull me closer.

Somewhere in those dark hours it all became clear. Looking down upon his beautiful face all the reasons to stay away from him became so utterly unimportant.