Page 33
Journal
It was another very cold Alaskan night. In fact, this past week has been some of the most brutally cold temperatures I’ve ever experienced. It didn’t help that Brock and I went camping last week—got home yesterday. It was the most intense week of my life.
I want to tell you all about it, Finn. Although, to be honest, I don’t know where to even begin.
I remember one time I asked my own father that question.
He wanted to know how I’d managed to go and break my arm at school.
At first, all I could do was look up into his eyes.
I wanted to tell him everything all at once.
I told him that so much had happened I didn’t know what to say first. You know what he told me?
He said, “Start at the beginning. It’s always worked for me and I bet it’ll work for you too. ”
From that moment on, whenever I had something really important and complicated I wanted to talk about, I made a concerted effort to start from the beginning and that’s exactly what I plan to do in this journal entry.
Now, Finn, don’t you worry. I’ll do everything in my power to make it short.
Considering my hand is already getting tired from writing this much to begin with.
I know I left you on quite a cliff-hanger the last journal entry.
Honestly, I considered taking out the page altogether considering it seemed like what happened between Brock and I was a one-time lapse in judgment or something.
We resumed our usual best-friend antics and never spoke about what had happened between us again.
Or that was the case until this past week, but that’s jumping ahead.
As I said previously, we decided to go camping.
We’ve always wanted to go ice fishing on the lake.
It was a few miles into the forest and we figured there was nearly no snow on the ground this year, just cold as all hell.
We packed up our gear, even brought supplies for a snow storm in case the weather went nuts on us.
And it was a good thing we did because the weather went bat-shit crazy.
Brock and I had made it out to the lake and even enjoyed three days of our outing fishing, sitting around the campfire, cooking what we caught.
It was great. Then the wind shifted overnight.
Our tents were battered in the gales, snow started piling up around us.
For the first time in all my years, I was scared out here in our own backyard.
Brock had the peace of mind to gather up as much of our belongings as possible and head for the caves.
Had it not been for him, I would have frozen to death trying to keep warm in the damn tent.
By the time we reached the entrance to the cave, there were snowdrifts above our heads in places.
There was so much wind, I could only guess at the amount of snowfall, but I would guess we could measure it in feet rather than inches.
Lucky for us, the cave was not occupied by a hibernating bear or a home for cougars.
It was also large enough and shaped perfectly to allow us to build a fire without smoking ourselves out of there.
Once we had caught our breaths, built the fire, made a camp for ourselves, we sat back and slept.
I don’t know how long we were both out of it, but when we woke back up, the storm continued to rage for two straight days.
You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you this story?
For one, always be prepared. Secondly, during our time together in the cave we had a chance to talk.
Well, more than talk actually. Brock and I grew even closer and without going into too much detail, we shared our second kiss.
At first, I think we were both scared out of our minds.
Why are we doing this again? Were we just two lonely, desperate men?
Finn. Brock and I are no longer just friends.
We are more than that, now. After a long night getting to know each other on a different level, we are together.
However, we haven’t told anyone. Especially not Wyatt.
Brock isn’t sure how to break the news to him—isn’t sure he would accept us being together.
We both have agreed that we can’t live a lie forever.
I mean, we love each other and it’s going to be obvious to everyone at some point.
I’m sure this has come as quite a shock to you, son.
I hope you don’t view me any differently, but if you do…
I understand. Not everyone thinks the same way, but I do hope you can find it in your heart to love me and Brock.
We both care about you and hope that one day you will be able to come for a visit.
I do continue to request time with you from your mom, but she has her worries.
Now, more than ever, I bet. I reached out to her and told her about Brock and I…
didn’t want to keep secrets from her when I was trying so desperately to win her trust back so I could see you again.
I expected her to scream at me or be disgusted, but she surprised me.
And in her own way, you have a kind and loving mom, Finn. She said to me, “I’ve known for a long time. I saw the way you and Brock looked at each other and it was in a way we never did. I’m glad you are able to be yourself. Finally.”
I admit, I cried like a baby after she told me that.
Anyway, I hope this journal entry finds you well, my son. Take care and I hope against hope that you and I will have this discussion in person well before you ever have to read it after I’m gone.
Love you, son.
Table of Contents
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- Page 33 (Reading here)
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