The tombstone was simple and a beautiful granite with streaks through it. The land had begun to retake the rock as its own with lichen and grasping vines. While every grave was maintained and cleaned by the palace grounds keeper, I took it upon myself to always make sure her tombstone was taken care of by me, her son. I visited often and kept nature from overtaking the engraved details, the most important engraving being that of her name.

JANET NOBLE

MARCH 2ND, 1965 – NOVEMBER 9TH, 2008

A BELOVED MOTHER. STRONG, BEAUTIFUL, AND SELFLESS.

I began to tear up reading the stone. She had been... My everything. As stupid and corny as it was, it was the truth. The time before her passing had been a much simpler, and happier, time. It wasn't like Whitebridge or the world itself changed after she died, but my world changed. My entire life had been—and still was—a constant struggle fighting my mental state. Despite all the joy I had been surrounded with as a child in the form of my family, music, and environment, I constantly fought a heavy rain cloud that followed me no matter where I went. No matter how hard I tried and how successful I was in shooing it away, it always returned. Questions of my self-worth, my relationships, my gifts and talents, they were always darkened by my depressive cloud. They were always tested in my chronic nightmares and insomnia. I found myself lying awake many nights, tears staining my cheeks, as I begged myself to squelch these thoughts if only for a night.

Very few things I found were able to lift me from my depressive ruts. An important one was of course music, which always let me express myself in any shape or form in a constructive, and safe, environment. The second most important was Sonjay, my best friend. Sonjay meant what he said to me on Friday, that he always wanted to make me smile. His entire life, the entire time I've known him, he had always been there for me. He was my beacon of shining light that always cut through the storm clouds, but to no fault of his own, his light had become dimmer to me these past years for reasons I was begging myself to bury. These reasons being thoughts, emotions, feelings... They were something I didn't have the courage to face at the moment.

Lastly, my mother had been the most influential person in my life in keeping the clouds far, far away. While unsure if depression was a common occurrence in my family line, it was evident in me. It was always present in my pessimistic attitude and frequent emotional outbursts even as a child. Both my parents were aware I was a "sensitive" kid, but it wasn't until I was five or six that they realized the sensitivity, withdrawn attitude, and difficulty sleeping were due to depression. Being with my family, especially Sonjay and my mother, was when I was most happy. When I was upset or withdrawn, only they were able to pick me up again. When my mother introduced music into my life at the age of five, that was when I was the happiest. Being with her, playing and learning with her, were some of the only memories I had where there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Other times included being with my father or brother, as well as with Sonjay, but none were ever as clear as those days.

I kept my hands, still holding the flowers, in my lap even as the tears fell. I knew seeing me like this was not what she would have wanted. She wanted me to continue to live my best life, doing what I enjoyed with a smile across my face. While I did what she asked, doing what I loved in continuing to practice and refine my musical prowess, the smile was missing. How could I smile when my teacher, my mother, wasn't there to see it? I clenched my jaw and blinked waves of tears from my eyes. These were the kinds of thoughts she had taught me to avoid or to turn positive. Without her help though, it was nearly an impossible task. Nearly.

With a shaking breath I raised a hand to wipe my tears. I had cried enough over her since her death. While I was confident more tears would be shed, I had at least gotten it out of my system for today. With trembling hands and a pathetic—but real—smile, I placed the flowers in front of her headstone. Removing my hand from the bouquet, a sense of closure came over me. Almost like a wave of relief, like I had finally completed something that was giving me anxiety.

"I'm sorry I cry every time I come and see you, Mom, but it's just because I miss you." I spoke softly, my eyes locked onto her name. "These tears aren't what you would have wanted, but you know me," I chuckled weakly, wiping a few with my thumb, "I've always been your sensitive little boy. Unlike Cronin who would rather punch his feelings away than talk about them." I gave another gentle laugh, feeling as if she was chuckling with me. "He has Kasey now though. Kasey takes good care of him and forces those feelings out of him with a punch of his own if Cronin is too stubborn. Well, not actually, but you know us. Combat is in our blood."

I swallowed a knot in my throat. There was something else I wanted to tell her. The reason for my current depressive rut. But he was sitting about twenty feet away. I looked over at him, seeing him sitting on the grass directly next to his mother's tombstone. He had his knees raised, his elbows resting on them while he fiddled with something, likely grass, in his hands. He had his shoulder to me, meaning he'd have to almost turn around to meet my eyes. I was unsure if he was speaking aloud, unable to see his lips, but I could barely just make out his right eye. While too far away to see its color, I'd know that shade of rusty brown anywhere.

"This is so hard, Mom." I said in a whisper. My voice broke again and was coupled with that all-too familiar sting of my eyes. I couldn't look away from that ruffled head of black hair. "Seeing him with someone else... I feel like he's betraying me. I feel like he's abandoning me for someone else. I feel like... Like I missed my chance."

I finally tore my eyes from him and looked at the grass between her and my knees. It was all in my head, but it felt like her hands touched my face and shoulders. My eyes closed shut at the sensation, a soft sob slipping. In an attempt to feel more secure, I wrapped an arm around my torso and pressed a hand to my mouth to silence the sobs that threatened to escape.

Avoiding my depressive thoughts or turning them on themselves as a positive, it was nearly impossible. Impossible without her help. Impossible without his help. Sonjay was the last steady source of light in my life. My father and brother were always there for me, and they shone in different ways, but Sonjay was unique. It was his smile, and only his smile, that made everything feel possible. Nothing seemed dark when he was around. Even now, without his physical presence next to me, I could feel how happy he made me. Despite all the guilt I felt about bringing him to the graveyard, a typically dark and sober place, I knew everything would be okay. Glancing at him again I couldn't help but smile to see he was anything but upset. In fact, he seemed to be laughing and smiling, cracking jokes with himself and his mother.

"I love him." I whispered, my eyes still fixated on his bright smile. "I have always loved him. He will always be the light of my life. Just like you were, and still are." I focused on her name again. "You're always with me when I play. Just like he is always there for me when I need him. The Arranged, this whole event that's taking him from me, is going to be so hard, Mom. How will he be my light when he is sharing it with someone else?"

I knew what she would say. She would tell me that Sonjay has more than enough joy to go around. He has so much joy to give it was infectious. As long as we were friends, we would be okay, regardless if someone romantic to him came between us. It was the biggest regret of my life that I had pushed Sonjay away after her death. During my teenage years, I separated myself from everyone, and those had been the darkest years of my life. I learned a lot about myself during that time apart, including my sexuality and what I wanted to do with my career, but I regretted he had never been a part of it. I regretted I never shared it all with him. Now that we were close again, I regretted all that time apart because now... Now it was his time to be apart from me. All that time we could have been together.

I could have used that time to tell him how I truly felt.

My heart jumped into my throat when I caught Sonjay standing up. He must have said all he had to say when he started walking towards me again. I glanced away from him, hoping he hadn't caught me staring. Instead, I looked at her tombstone one last time, also having said all I needed to.

"Enjoy the flowers," I said aloud, "they're your favorite. I... I love you, Mom. I'll see you later."

With that I began to stand just as Sonjay approached. We turned to face each other, and I was met with that same nervous smile.

"I didn't mean to interrupt." He said, looking awkward. I noted his hands were still in his pockets. "I was just coming to let you know I'm all set if you are."

I gave a gentle nod in response. "I'm ready. Did you have a good chat?" I asked in hopes to lighten the somber mood. Sonjay's relationship with his mother was... Complicated. It wasn't nearly as straight-forward as my relationship. "As much as you could, at least." I joked.

He gave a gentle chuckle. "Yeah, always. I had some things to get off my chest and who makes a better listener than the dead?"

He joked, a darker joke meant to make light much like I had. He almost seemed to wince upon finishing it, a look of regret crossing his face and hope he hadn't upset me. I knew what he was like and knew serious emotions weren't his favorite. He always masked his uncomfortableness behind humor, which was never a problem. I simply smiled in response.

"Yeah, she's a really good listener. Her advice, or what I think she'd offer for advice, always makes me feel better." I told him.

"What did she offer this time, if I may ask?"

"Just that with you as my friend, things will be okay."

We both gave a gentle snicker at the goofiness of the statement. While funny, it was true. I did notice, however, that Sonjay's expression seemed to faulter for only a second. It was so quick I wondered if I had seen it right. I hadn't caught what it meant though, unsure exactly what it had been.

Sonjay nodded his head in the direction of the gate, asking if I was ready to leave. A nod for a response and we both exited the graveyard in silence. It wasn't until I was locking the gate again that he spoke.

"How are you feeling, by the way?" I looked at him over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. He seemed to blush some. "I just meant that you had said depending on how we're feeling that maybe we'd do something afterwards. We could, uhm... Sit outside, I guess, if you're interested."

He is so thoughtful... I thought. Not only did he remember what I said, but he was being considerate of my feelings over his own. I could tell without a doubt that he was missing me. Whether it be because of the Arranged arriving or because of our rekindled friendship this past year or so, I knew he wanted to spend time with me. But he also knew what I was like.

"Yeah, why don't we find that hanging bench in the gardens and chat for a bit. Or just enjoy nature in silence. Whatever we want." I told him.

"I'd like that a lot." He said, no longer hiding his excitement to spend time with me.