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Marvin sat up in bed, frustrated from his inability to sleep. He looked over, some man he didn’t bother to learn the name of sleeping peacefully beside him. Just another hookup. God, he was a mess these days. He rarely saw his son; Trina and Mendel always keeping Jason busy. Ever since Whizzer died, they thought it was best Marvin was given some space. And that was good, it was nice, in the time being. But then it stuck. Jason stayed away, Marvin stayed alone.
Well, alone and sleeping with a new guy every other night. Pretty boys he picked up from bars, clubs, hell, sometimes even off the street. Anything to keep his mind off of the pain. Marvin never had a taste for alcohol, drugs, nothing like that. They said that this horrible illness, the disease that took him away, AIDS, that it was transmitted between men during sex. A year after Whizzer’s passing, he started having sex with anyone who would accept his offer. And, now, a year after that, a year of screwing dozens of men, he had no idea if he had the same thing, if any of these men had it, and to be quite frank, he didn’t care.
They were all going to die anyway, right? Marvin knew he had anywhere from months to years, whether or not he had AIDS. Interesting what grief can do to a person, shave off pieces of their life with ease. Whizzer used to tease him whenever he put on some weight, but now, he lost so much, hardly able to eat some days. Sometimes, he would just forget. Stay in bed all day and get up only to use the toilet.
Maybe it was a good thing Jason wasn’t staying with him. A good thing his son hasn’t seen his father in two years. It would hurt Jason to see him skinny and filthy, fucking practically every gay man in New York City, bread growing mold in his kitchen, milk turning sour, grime building up in the bathroom. His own dad wasting away.
Marvin crept out of bed and padded to the bathroom, turning on the flickering lightbulb. He stared at himself in the dusty mirror. His eyes had bags under them, his face sagging, beard growing from his lack of care to shave. Even his teeth turned a bit yellow; he only brushed his teeth when it occurred to him that he should, which was around three or four times a week. His face was pale from rarely going outside during the day. If Whizzer could see him now.
Every now and then, Cordelia, Charlotte, or both would drop by, check in, but he stopped talking to them whenever they would come by, so they stopped coming. Any of those few times he would go out to shop for food or whatever, he might see the women, or even Trina, Mendel, or Jason. However, he never went to say hi, simply turned around and hoped they didn’t see him.
He scratched the side of his face where some graying hairs grew on his jaw. Whizzer never liked it when he grew out his facial hair; too scratchy, looked like he didn’t care enough to clean himself up at all, took away from his features, etc.
Sometimes he could hear Whizzer’s voice in his ear, his laugh, see his smile, feel his arms wrapped around him tightly, or catch a whiff of the stupid products he covered his hair with. In a crowd, he might see someone even vaguely resembling him, but when he took a second look, if he blinked, it would look like any other person. Sometimes, there wasn’t even anyone there.
It was a good idea his son didn’t see him anymore. What kind of son should be around their delusional father who can’t take care of himself, let alone a teenage boy?
A dad who all he did was sleep, fuck, and take a piss.
Sighing heavily after one last glance in the mirror, Marvin retreated to his room, crawling back in with the man he picked up from a bar hours before.
Sure, he felt bad he treated these men like objects, just a fuck then back out of his apartment they went, but he continued anyway. He was lonely.
But he also knew he could never form a relationship again.
The man he had in his bed tonight was younger than him, maybe in his early twenties. He’s blond, well-built, good in bed. Best of all, he didn’t talk too much. Didn’t bother Marvin, knew what he was meant to do: come inside for sex, spend the night if he was lucky, then right back out the door the next day. Wasn’t fazed by the fact that Marvin was using him whatsoever. Or maybe he was. Just didn’t show it. Marvin didn’t care to ask.
He did his job well, too, keep Marvin occupied for as long as possible.
But it was moments like these, the moments after the sex, that he allowed his thoughts to take over again.
Thoughts of Whizzer. How he was gone. How he was never coming back.
You’d think that years of thinking this each and every night that one would get over it, one would change his ways, do something different to completely obliterate those thoughts once at for all, but for Marvin, it was a constant reminder that he was alive. Whether he liked it or not.
When they were both younger, Whizzer was extremely romantic, whispering sweet words of how they would be together forever, despite the foul world around them.
Then Marvin met Trina and fell in love with her. That never took away his feelings for Whizzer, however, they still hooked up here and there, but, of course, Whizzer was heartbroken.
Once Marvin divorced Trina, he moved back in with Whizzer, thinking things would go back to how they were. It didn’t. Sure, they pretended it was all okay, like they were teenagers again, but it wasn’t, it never was. There was always that looming storm cloud of the just-over-a-decade Marvin spent married to Trina, starting a family . That storm cloud led to fights, even if they weren’t about Trina. Well, not directly, anyhow. They usually cycled back to Whizzer screaming about how Marvin left him for a woman , how he ‘never loved him and he was always straight and was kidding himself when they were together,’ or that Marvin was just an overall asshole. Of course, that didn’t mean Marvin didn’t get his fair share in; he got angry about Whizzer’s infidelity, that Whizzer never took him seriously, petty things that would result in sex. As always. They didn’t talk about their problems much, that was probably why they dipped in and out of love, just had sex and forgot about it in the morning.
That was the thing about sex- they would use it to ‘make up’, it was a reason for Marvin to get angry at Whizzer, it was their way to say ‘sorry’, ‘I love you’, ‘I had a bad day and I’m sad’, or simply, ‘I’m bored. Wanna fuck?’
And now it was Marvin’s attempt to banish Whizzer from his memory.
It might work for an hour or a few, he was lucky if it was for a whole night (usually meaning that he fell asleep right after), but then he came back as always. Taunting Marvin with his smile, his kind words spoken in the dark when they were together, every part of him, whether Marvin liked it or not, was permanently fixed in his mind.
Drawing his blanket up over his shoulders, Marvin looked back at the young man in his bed. Maybe this is what Whizzer would feel like when they would split up, or even when Whizzer wanted something, anything , on his mind, something other than Marvin for whatever reason.
In only two years, Marvin turned into a shell of the man he used to be. A graying, frail, sad man who can’t take care of himself. A man who sleeps with other men to forget about the man he used to be and the man he lost. The fact that he has been deemed so pathetic and useless to see his son or properly interact with anyone like a normal human being.
The thing that sucked the most was that tonight was really just like any other night. Almost every night was like this. Have sex with someone, feel alright for a little while, get sad, then sleep. If he could feel alright for a few minutes, why couldn’t he make himself feel alright for the rest of his life? He couldn’t feel alright for the rest of his life because he can never shake away the memory of Whizzer. The man he was supposed to be with for the rest of his life.
Instead, he was dead, and Marvin was left behind in the dark. All alone with nowhere to go, fumbling for a hand that will never be there to hold, searching for a man that is gone forever.