Gabe

I was in love with Garrett. Complete and utter love and adoration. Not sexual love, but love nonetheless. Garrett was two years older than me. Garrett was my cousin. He lived nearly two hours away, but we still grew up together. He was, and remains today, one of the most beautiful and gorgeous men I have seen anywhere, even in the movies. It is hard to believe we share the same genes. In addition to his beauty, he was athletic, funny, smart, immensely popular, and a dare devil. To top it off, he was one of the most genuinely loving, caring people I have ever met. He treated everyone like they were the center of his universe and were of untold importance—even his fat little cousin.
We would see each other every few months when our families would get together. I idolized him in every way. Often, when we look back at the people we idolized we see them for who they really were—all their faults and negative aspects. I really believe he had none. I idolize him today as much as when we were children. He is one of the people that enable me to understand why some people actually believe there are angels living here on Earth with us, to show us what life and love is supposed to be like.
It was the day after I broke up with Carlos (the first time. . . I know, hard to keep track), and I was completing an overnight shift at work. About six in the morning, I got a call from mom. I knew this was bad when my boss told me my mom was calling. She should not be up at six, let along calling me at work. I answered the phone, holding my breath. Who died now?
Her voice was soft and tentative. I could tell she did not want to make this call. Ever the pillar of strength, she called anyway and was straightforward. “I am so sorry. I don’t want to have to tell you this, but I don’t want to keep you waiting either. Garrett was killed early this morning. He was in a car wreck. He and another of his cousins, Austin.”
The world stopped. Truly it did. Garrett was twenty-six. Garrett was beautiful. Garrett was one of the few people in the world I still looked up to. I had not even gotten to tell him my secret. I had been thinking a lot about it. I knew he would love me anyway, and wanted to hear him say that when I told him about my gayness. Garrett was everything that everyone wanted to be. How could he die? How could he die like this, in such a wasteful way? How could an angel be killed so young and before he had accomplished his mission on this earth?
It turned out that Garrett and Austin had been driving home from a concert. It was around three or four in the morning. They were about ten minutes from home on the highway. Austin was driving. Somehow, their car collided with a guard rail on an overpass. Austin was thrown from the car, over the overpass and onto the highway below, many feet down. Garrett was thrown the opposite direction. A car went by shortly after the accident and saw Garrett in their lane of traffic. They were freaked out and did not stop or call anyone; they did not want to be blamed. I am not sure why they even admitted to this later. We don’t know if Garrett was still alive then or not. However, after that, two semi-trucks came barreling down the highway. Neither of them were able to stop or swerve out of the way before running over Garrett and stopping several feet away. It was they who called the ambulances. Funny way to kill an angel. . . You would think God might provide them more protection than the rest of us dime-a-dozen mortals.
I immediately left work and went home. We were going to drive to Kansas that day, to be with the family. They had already requested that I be a pallbearer. I got home, crying and numb from the shock. Carlos heard me come in. His eyes were red from crying about our break up.
I told him about Garrett. “Wow.” He looked me straight in the eye. “You are having a really horrible day. You lost a boyfriend and a cousin, all in less than twenty-four hours.”
Death is a constant companion.