Peace at Last

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Valentine's Day 2015.

A very special day for me, but not what you'd thought. It was the fifteenth anniversary of my best friend's death. John died of Love. Yes, he had lost his husband Chris a year before. His husband had cancer, you see. He was seriously sick for three years before he was released of his pain. Three years Chris had not left his bed, being it at the hospital or at home. He had requested to not die in hospital. The doctor thought it was foolish of him to go home after each blood transfusion, but Chris insisted. He didn't want to leave this world from an anonymous hospital room. John respected his wish and cared for him more than you can imagine. He washed Chris every day, changed the sheets without Chris leaving the bed. He took care of his wounds better than a professional nurse. He washed the bottle after Chris peed, and the bedpan whenever it was necessary. He fed Chris, even though Chris ate every day less and less. A housekeeper did the rest of the work in the house. She was a woman from the country and had that basic good sense that is typical for country people. At the last of his suffering, Chris asked for a beer. The housekeeper started to cry and sob. She explained to John that when country people arrive at the very end of their lives, they usually ask for a beer. John gave it to Chris. What harm could it do? Three hours later, Chris fell asleep and didn't wake up.

To say John was devastated is an understatement. Yes, he was kind of happy that Chris' suffering was finished, but he couldn't help asking over and over again what he was going to do without his husband. After Chris' funeral, John was lost. Suddenly he had nothing to do: nobody to take care of or nobody to talk to or read the paper to. He suddenly had nothing to do, neither washing somebody or change the bed sheets for. John sat most of his days in the easy chair that had been the favorite of Chris. The television would be on, but if you asked John what he was watching, he was totally incapable to answer. The television was on just to have the impression someone was in the house. John and Chris had been major classical music fans, but John couldn't bring himself to switch on the sound system. Bit-by-bit John started to lose weight. In less than six months he was half what he used to be. I was devastated to see him like that. I tried to get him out of his house, but John declined every single time. And then, on February 13th, he had a major brain bleeding. He was taken to the hospital and the nurses called me as I was mentioned as the person to call in case of emergency. When I arrived, John was already in the coma. The doctors talked with me for what seemed the longest time. John had given me an envelope to open only if something happened to him. I had it with me when the hospital called for me to go. Inside was a letter from John, stipulating very clearly that he didn't want to be kept alive artificially. That letter was signed by John, countersigned by a notary and with an official stamp on it. The doctors asked me if that was what I wanted as well and I just said yes. John was then disconnected the next day from the artificial breather and brought to a normal room. I hold his hand and talked to him even though he was in the coma. I told him to let go, to go and be rejoined with the love of his life. I assured him I was going to be fine. And while I talked to him, holding his hand and looking at his face, I suddenly saw his face-muscles relax. He seemed peaceful. A few minutes later he stopped breathing. John and Chris were reunited.

I didn't cry. I wasn't sad because of he left this world. I was happy that he had been in my life all these years and that he now was reunited with the love of his life. John was buried next to Chris and a new one replaced the tombstone that mentioned only Chris where both were mentioned. The funeral was supposed to be simple and intimate, but so many friends came to pay their last respect. The grave was covered with flowers. Chris and John had many friends!

A few weeks later, I received a call from their notary. He asked me to come by for the reading of their will. When I arrived I was immediately let in the main office of the official will's executor. I was surprised to be there alone. The notary started to read the will word by word. I didn't hear a word of it. I was lost in my thoughts and the memory of my best friend and his husband. When he was finished reading, I was startled by the silence.

• Mr. Kensington, do you understand what I just read to you? the notary asked.

I had to admit I didn't, as I hadn't listened very carefully. I asked him to give me a brief description.

Actually, the deceased left everything to you, including the house, the cars, everything that is in the house, their money and their investments. You are the only heir mentioned in this will and ...

I was once again totally out of focus. I knew Chris and John had been wealthy and were very good businessmen all their life. I knew none of them had family but that they named me, as their only heir was a total surprise to me. When the notary mentioned the total amount of their possessions I was flabbergasted. If I wanted, I could stop working and never have the slightest financial problem. I just inherited a house and two fairly new cars. Everything in the house was mine, from furniture, paintings, books, clothes and so on. I hadn't the first clue of what to do with it. The notary handed me the keys to the house and a list of everything that was now mine.

I left his office in a blur. The fresh spring air hit me in the face once I was on the street. I stopped a taxi and gave him Chris and John's address. When he stopped in front of the house I hesitated, but finally paid the taxi and got out. John had given me the code to open the gate years ago so that I could let myself in while he took care of Chris. I entered through the iron gate and walked the short distance to the front door. I took out the set of keys I received and opened the door.

Once inside, I was overwhelmed by the silence. It was almost scary. I had been in this house hundreds of times, and now it seems strange. It was as if I expected Chris or John to come out of the living room and greet me. As I had always done, I took off my shoes before going any further. Chris and John were so proud of their hardwood floors and oriental rugs they had bought over the years. Nobody was allowed in the house with their shoes on. I did it more out of habit.

That silence was such that I was afraid to make any noise. I looked around and was familiar with everything I saw, but nonetheless felt like an intruder. I had to get used to the fact that all this was now mine. I jumped in the air when suddenly a door opened and I saw the housekeeper. I didn't expect her to be here.

• Mr. Kensington, she said, the notary has warned me you would probably drop by.

• My name is William. Mr. Kensington was my late father Vivian. Call me William please.

• Ok William. The notary told me you would update me with the latest information. I just prepared a pot of coffee. Would you fancy one?

I accepted and followed her to the kitchen. She served me my coffee and then went on saying how beautiful the funeral ceremony had been and how many flowers there were on the grave and so on. I then informed her of the actual situation.

That means you are my new boss then, or do I have to look for another job? Vivian asked.

If you want it, you can stay Vivian, it is a big house and I don't know if I can handle it on my own. I don't know yet what I am going to do with it. Maybe I will keep it or maybe I will sell it, I don't know yet. In any case, I will tell you as soon as I made up my mind. But for the moment, I'll keep on paying the same wages Chris and John paid you. I would appreciate it if you stayed a while longer and if I decide to keep the house, I would like you to keep on the good work for me as you did for them.

Vivian seemed happy to stay. She was a live-in housekeeper and dreaded to have to move. She was so used to this house being at Chris and John's service for so long. I told her that the chances of keeping the house were bigger than the ones of selling it.

After that, I went to have a look at that house that was so familiar to me and yet so strange. I wondered if I could live here and be happy. There were so many memories of happy times, but the sickness of Chris weighted on the house as well. Three years of medical help, nurses and doctors had left a serious print on this place. I went to the living room and sat down in Chris' favorite chair, the one John had used in the last year. I closed my eyes for a moment and left my mind drift to memory lane...

I remembered how I had met John. It was in the years before AIDS and I was a regular customer at one of the city's bathhouses. Yes, in those days there was little risk to go and have anonymous sex. I remembered I was sitting in the steam room, surrounded by several men who were touching each other and then leaving the steam room to find themselves a more secluded room. Others were more blatant and had sex there and then, probably enjoying giving a show to the others. When I went to the bathhouse, I always started with a Finnish sauna and then staying a good while in the steam room, till my heart was pounding so hard I had to go out and take a refreshing shower. That day I was already sweating profusely when a very nice looking man sat on the lower bench while I sat on the upper one. I didn't know if he did on purpose, but he sat between my legs. I thought he was gorgeous and I as horny enough to make him understand I wouldn't mind have some fun with him. It all started quite innocently. I gave him a good massage of his shoulders as he was sitting between my legs and a little but lower. I had perfect access. That man, John, let me massage him. At one point he rested his arms on my legs and I got an even better access to his upper arms and chest. My hands roamed over his upper body and I playfully pinched his nipples. He threw his head back and the back of it came in contact with my hard cock. The light in the steam room was dimmed, but not enough to prevent me to see his cock was hard as well. A third man looked at what we did and I could see that the towel he had kept around his waist was tenting. John had lifted his arms and hooked his fingers in my neck. He was gently forcing me down till our lips met. That kiss was electrifying and turned to a very passionate one. We were oblivious to who could see us or not and we didn't care. It was only when John broke the kiss that I noticed the third man on his knees in front of John, sucking his cock in earnest. John's breath was heavy. I didn't know if it was the result of the very warm steam, the kiss we had shared or the sucking action of the man on his knees. It didn't take long for John to spurt his load in the man's mouth. When he was spent, the man got up and presented a very hard cock to John who leaned forward and returned the favor. The man was clearly enjoying it and leaned forward to take my cock in his mouth. It was no wonder that John had come so fast as the guy was a real expert with his lips and tongue. All the while sucking, the man moaned and sent vibrations through my whole body. His moaning gat faster and I guessed he was about to climax. I pushed my hips up and tried to reach his throat with my cock. The man understood I was not far from coming myself and wrapped his hand around the part of my cock that was not in his mouth. He started masturbating me and in no time I deposited my load in his mouth while the convulsions in his body told me he was unloading in John's mouth. As soon as he finished, he wrapped his towel around his waist and left the steam room. I whispered to John to meet me at the bar and left the steam room myself, took a shower and after drying went to the bar. A few minutes later John came to me, stretched out his hand and presented himself. I told him my name and we ordered two beers.

Where in normal circumstances I would have recuperated enough to have a second session in the steam room, I stayed at the bar with John. We talked for hours. It really clicked between us and none of us went back to the steam room. Instead, at about seven, we decided to dress and have some dinner together. After that first meal we went to a gay club and had some more drinks. Around midnight, John invited me to his place and I accepted. We had some torrid sex. Everything that is written in "The Joy of Gay Sex" was tried out. We did it all and when we saw the morning light coming through the blinds, we were still horny as hell. We took a shower together and under the warm spray of water I penetrated him once more, but pulled out before climaxing. I turned around and John penetrated me and finished us both off. After that we slipped between the sheets and slept like angels.

In the following days we had more torrid sex, but strangely enough we realized that we connected better out of bed than in it. Don't misunderstand me. The sex was hot and satisfying, but we felt a stronger connection when we were talking and sharing information about our lives. With time, we talked even more and had less sex. The sexual activity became sporadic, till we talked about it and we agreed that we didn't need the sex to have a sincere friendship. From then on, we met on a regular base. We were often seen eating together and afterwards having some drinks in the city's gay bars. We knew we were becoming inseparable friends and no boyfriends. We even went on holiday together and had the most fantastic time of our lives, laughing a lot and connecting with other holidaymakers. John had that self-confidence over him that made him very attractive. During those holidays he even had an affair with a guy who was there on his honeymoon. His wife didn't suspect a thing and John told me how much the guy loved to feel John's dick inside of him. I wandered for hours on the beach while John had his way with the newly wed guy. I could understand, as I knew John was a great lover in bed.

Once we were back from our holiday, we went on with our daily routine of going to work and meet at least once a week. John always told me about his sexual exploits and I knew he was not exaggerating! He had a hunger for sex that was almost insatiable. You could often see his car parked at one or the other cruising place. He just loved having sex in the open air and the additional danger of being caught made it all better for him. I guessed it was more a search of love that he confounded with lust, till he met Chris. From there on, John changed completely. They had met on a parking lot along the motorway that was known for gay encounters. They had sex on the hood of the car where they were visible to anyone. They didn't care, but when they were finished, Chris asked John to come to his house. John told me that they had sex in every single room of the Victorian house. They just couldn't get enough of it. What happened is that they connected in a lot of ways, not only sexually.

The difference between Chris and me was easy: John fell in love with Chris and it was mutual. Chris accepted me as John's best friend and I accepted him as John's boyfriend. Only three months into their relationship, Chris asked John to move in with him. John didn't hesitate for a moment. Our meetings were not so often anymore. I respected their relationship and didn't want to interfere or being the fifth wheel of the cart. Chris accepted the friendship John and I had and even insisted that we would go on like before, having the occasional meal and the few drinks afterwards. Some times Chris accompanied us, but most of the time he preferred us to have some quality time by ourselves. Chris and John got married as soon as the law permitted it. A wedding party with famous artists was nothing compared to theirs. I was John's best man and was proud to stand next to him on that very special occasion. To go to town hall and after the ceremony to go to the venue where the wedding party was held, Chris had rented an old 1950's convertible Rolls Royce. You should have seen them!

The party was the gayest gay party you could imagine. Chris could be flamboyant from time to time and although it was not what John preferred, he went along fine when his husband was in such a mood. They were so in love with each other although they were quite different. They were complementary if I can say so. They had a happy life. They worked a lot and earned quite some money, but at the same time they cared for others and knew when it was time to play and forget about their jobs. They had found the perfect balance. They traveled extensively, as they both liked to discover new countries and new cultures. They were involved in charity, but not only with money. They were physically present where they were needed. Strangely enough, they were a hundred percent monogamous. John said he had had his share of men and was content and satisfied with his husband. He said he didn't need more.

I was sitting there, in Chris' favorite chair and had not realized a few tears had been rolling down my cheek. I tried to compose myself before heading to the kitchen. I found Vivian preparing some supper and we sat down eating the succulent cuisine of Vivian. It was inevitable to talk about Chris and John. The more we talked, the more I realized I couldn't let some strangers live in their house. I decided there and then to keep the house and sell my apartment. I told Vivian she could take some days off and maybe visit some siblings and that when she came back I would have moved in. She was overjoyed with the news that I wasn't selling the house.

I had to organize quite some things. First of all, I wanted to get rid of Chris and John's bed. It was a nice one, but I couldn't get myself to sleep in their bed. Apart from that, I had always difficulty to sleep in another bed than mine. I would have to move my things from my rented apartment to the house. I wasn't looking forward to pack all my things and in the end I hired a moving company that did it all for me. It was a little expensive, but I could afford it now. In just one day, they packed my things, moved them and unpacked them at the house. They also took away Chris and John's bed and dropped it off at a charity. The things I didn't need immediately were pilled up in the basement.

I felt nosey when I started to go through Chris and John's things, but I couldn't avoid it. I even found a life insurance that was not mentioned on the list the notary gave me. To my surprise I was mentioned as beneficiary. Another important check was coming my way. I found a whole bunch of photo albums, all neatly organized and beautifully done, with comments next to each picture. All the travels they had done were there. Europe, the States, Thailand and Malaysia ... you name it and they had been there. One album had no title and when I opened it, I understood. Those were nude pictures done by a professional. All pictures were very erotic without showing their genitals. There was one picture in particular that aroused me because it expressed the love they had for each other. It was a black and white picture and I couldn't stop staring at it. It was so beautiful. I decided to take it out of the album and have it printed in poster format, then framed and hung up above the fireplace in the living room. They would always be with me.

I also found some letters that they wrote to each other on the rare occasions they were separated for business or other reasons. I was tempted to read them, but thought I would invade their privacy. Finally, I burned them without opening them. In the garage I found two cars. John was somebody who was not interested in cars at all. He never bought a new car, always second hand ones. For him it was just a tool to take him from point A to point B. Nothing else! His car was a fifteen-year-old car, but that functioned perfectly. Chris was the opposite. He loved cars and if you had let him, he would have had several. But in the garage I found a Range Rover that seemed new. I looked at the papers and it was about four years old but had almost never been driven. If I had to believe the kilometers mentioned on the counter, the car was equal to brand new. Making a little calculation he must have bought it just before he was diagnosed with cancer.

The last place I visited was the attic. First I found a huge amount of boxes with only clothes in it. Everything was cleaned and neatly folded. Some of the items were maybe a little out of date, but in perfect state. I decided to give to the same charity I had given their bed to. I carried all the boxes to the garage and saw I would have to do various trips to the charity. The Range Rover has a good charging space, but nonetheless I did a total of four trips. I also found some more valuable items, being it furniture, books, antiques and so on. I contacted an antique shop to see if they were interested in the whole bunch of those things. The guy that came to see what was for sale, ended up giving me some good money for everything. Vivian would have her work to clean the attic, as quite some dust had accumulated over the years.

I kept their telephone landline, although I had my own cell phone. I got several calls from people who hadn't received the news of John's death. It came as a chock to them when I told them what had happened. One of the calls got my attention. The guy who called thought he had the wrong number as he, of course, didn't recognize the voice. I gave him the news and I could hear the guy, who had presented himself as Joe, starting to cry. I let him do. Once he had calmed down, he explained he was a friend of the couple. John had told him about Chris' death. As he lived abroad, he had decided to come over and trying to lift John's mood. I asked him where he was calling from, and he said he had just landed and was still at the airport. Joe never announced his arrival, as he liked to surprise his friends. In the past he had done so several times and always stayed at the house. I told him to take a taxi and to come over. I didn't know the guy, but if Chris and John opened their house to him, I guessed I could do as well. Friends of friends were friends, right?

About an hour later the front doorbell rang. I went to open the door and had the most gorgeous man in front of me. He stretched out his hand saying "I'm Joe". His grip was firm but without crushing the bones in my hand. Although he had a sad look on his face, I could see he had very fine features. His wavy black hair, with some grey on the temples, was almost reaching his shoulders. His square jaw was adorned with a two or three day stubble. His piercing blue eyes looked directly into my soul despite their sad look. I hold his hand a little longer than what was necessary for politeness purpose and then I threw all caution in the wind, pulling him into a hug. I felt his toned body in my arms and his head nestled itself on my shoulder while he started sobbing again.

He dropped his suitcase in the entrance hall and I invited him into the living room. His eyes were directly drawn to the poster above the fireplace. He looked at it for several minutes. I kept silent as to give him time to be reunited with his friends. His sobbing diminished and after while stopped. He then turned to me, asking for a stiff drink if I didn't mind. I made us two drinks and we sat down. His eyes were constantly drawn to the picture. He started to explain how he had met Chris and John while they were on holiday where he lived. They had connected immediately and had a great time. While they were there, they saw each other everyday and had several meals together as well as drinks afterwards. Over the years he had come on various occasions, but it hadn't been easy as he was far from rich. For each trip he had to calculate and save money.

We shared precious memories of the moments with the two friends who had left us. When Vivian came in to ask what I wanted to eat, she saw Joe and almost ran towards him. He got up and hugged her like a life long friend. He was truly happy to see him and for Joe it was a hard moment again because Vivian reminded him of the times he was here with Chris and John alive. I invited Vivian to sit with us and have some quality time with Joe. Her eyes beamed gratitude. After about an hour, while I had been listening more than participating in their conversation, I told Vivian that Joe was going to stay with us for the time he was here. Joe tried to protest, but I wouldn't take no for an answer. Vivian said she would prepare his room and prepare dinner for three instead of two.

Joe was a guy who was easy to talk with, but very emotional. Every now and then, some memory made him sob or have tears in his eyes. Each time he apologized although I told him there was no reason for it. After the meal, Vivian went to her quarters. Joe and I sat in front of the fireplace, trying to get to know each other. After all, he was a semi stranger in my house. When it was time to go to bed, Joe hugged me, or better said squeezed me in his arms.

• Thanks for being who you are William. It means a lot to me!

• You're welcome, I said with a smile, I start to understand why Chris and John considered you a friend!

He knew his way around the house, so I went to my bedroom and took a shower in the en-suite bathroom. After that I slipped between the sheets and fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

In the middle of the night I was woken by a loud scream. I wondered where it came from, but a second one made me realize it was from Joe's bedroom. I was a little worried and at the third scream I got up and went to his bedroom. Joe was sitting in his bed, bathed in sweat. I switched on his nightstand lamp and saw tears rolling down his cheeks. I sat next to him and wrapped my arms around his naked chest. He clung to me like a child to his mother after having a bad dream. It was strange to see such a hunk of a man being so emotional and crying so easily. I rocked him softly and assured him he was safe. The tears subsided and he apologized once more. When I tried to get up, he grabbed me forcefully asking me not to leave him. He was really scared. I didn't want to pressure him so I didn't ask anything. I felt sleepy and my eyelids got heavy. I had no choice as to slip between his sheets. I had my briefs on, but Joe was completely naked. I hoped I would fall asleep before my hands would have a mind of their own and caress Joe stunning body. Once we lay down, Joe rested his head on my chest and fell asleep as quickly as I did.

The following morning we were woken by the sunshine coming through the blinds. Joe and I had not moved at all. The only thing different was that Joe had a major morning wood pushing against my thigh. My own morning wood was still in my briefs, but about to pop out. I tried to get out of bed, but Joe grabbed me firmly and asked for five more minutes. I warned him that if I waited five more minutes, the bed would be wet. He let me go!

I went to my own bathroom and went through my morning routine. Once ready I slipped on my 501's and a T-shirt. I looked into Joe's room, but he was not in bed anymore. I heard the shower running. I told him I would meet him in the kitchen. Vivian was preparing breakfast when I came in. She had heard the screams as well during the night and asked if everything was ok. I reassured her.

• You know, she said, Joe has been in the military and went to Iraq. It must have been a traumatic experience for him, as I have always known him to scream in the middle of the night. Now, I didn't tell you anything here. If he wants, he'll open up to you and tell you himself.

I promised her secret was safe with me. Joe came in a few minutes later, kissed Vivian on her cheek and then came over to me and kissed me on my forehead. He whispered "Thank You" in my ear. Over breakfast he asked me if I could drive him to the cemetery. He wanted to pay his respects to Chris and John. I accepted although I didn't look forward to it. I just hate cemeteries.

Joe got, once again, emotional when he saw the new tombstone with both names on it. I was surprised to see that there were fresh flowers on the grave. I guessed friends had thought of bringing them. Joe had again tears in his eyes and as we left the cemetery, he apologized fro being so emotional.

• You really have to stop apologizing Joe, I said, there is no need for it and I understand the emotional charge that you have on your shoulders. It is not easy to arrive and discover that the friend you come to visit passed away.

• It is not only that, he said, come on, let's have a walk and I'll tell you.

I was surprised that Joe opened up to me so quickly. He volunteered the information although I hadn't asked for it.

• I was in the military and was sent to Iraq. Before leaving I thought we would go and give a good lesson to those SOB. The first lesson I learned was to be a lot more humble. Maybe we were better equipped, but the locals had something we didn't have: a strong conviction and even stronger believe in their religion. Those guys were fanatics. They believe in texts that have been written centuries ago and have not changed although the world around them changed. They were prepared to chase us away at all costs. My best mate was Chuck. We had been best friends since day one in the army. It took us almost a year to discover we were both gay and that we had very strong feelings towards each other. It was in Iraq that we talked about it for the first time. That night we were on duty and as everything was quiet, we started to talk and admit our feelings. It was that same night that for the first time we kissed. We kissed till the daylight came up. When our tour of duty was over, we were allowed to sleep. Before we went to sleep, we had a shower. We were alone in the showers and even though we were used to see each other naked, that morning we looked at each other in a different way. We were soon sporting hard-ons. We were very careful because we didn't want the rest of the guys know we were gay and beginning a love relationship. We wanted to touch each other, but didn't dare. It was not till the next time we were on night duty again that we touched in an intimate way. On our second tour of duty together, we made love for the first time. It was an exquisite experience and we shot our loads more than once. After that night we searched for moments to be alone. We never fucked. We only made love. Nobody ever saw our growing relationship. It was the army after all.

Joe took a deep breath as if the following part of his story was difficult to tell, but went on.

• The good thing was that we looked out for each other even more than before. We even volunteered for the night duty, as we knew we wouldn't be disturbed and we would have the showers to ourselves in the morning. Although we hated to be in Iraq with all the possible inconveniences, it was a happy time for us. Chuck and I had found love and we were already making plans for a life together once we were back home.

Joe breathed deeply and I could see his eyes got moist.

• We had received our orders and we were going to be shipped home after about a year in the desert. You can't imagine how happy we were and we had a countdown on our calendar. The night before we were going to be shipped back, the barracks were massively attacked. Grenades and other artillery were making us deaf. We were in full alert in no time. We were lucky to have more advanced technology and neutralized the enemy's action quite fast. Nonetheless, we were watching out carefully because we never knew when the next attack would be. We suddenly heard a deafening explosion very close to us. When I turned around to see if Chuck was ok, if could only see blood. His face had literally disappeared. He didn't move. I crawled over to where he as, but immediately realized he was dead. I fell on my knees next to him and was unable to move. I looked and tried to see his lovely face, but it wasn't there. The medics came over very quickly, but there was nothing they could do. They put him on stretcher and to the infirmary, but only to do the necessary paperwork and give the instruction to have his body repatriated. It was only hours later that they noticed my absence. Some of the medics had seen me next to Chuck's body and came back. I was still on my knees with a total absent look on my face. They picked me up although I was not wounded. The next day Chuck's coffin was on the same plane I was on to come back. There was an official funeral for him, but they didn't let me attend it. I was in hospital for various weeks before I came out of my stupor. When I came out of it I was still haunted by the image of faceless Chuck. Since then I have nightmares that exhaust me completely. You've seen the result last night.

All through his story I had held his hand. He lifted it and kissed my fingers.

• We don't know each other very much. I appreciate so much your being there for me. Once you slipped into bed with me, the nightmares didn't come back. You can't imagine what it means for me to be able to sleep more than two hours in a row. When Chris was sick, John often came into my bed and those times I had the same results: no nightmares. Once John noticed it, he came with me to bed, not waiting for my screams. It was Chris' idea to do so.

• If it helps, I said, I don't mind you share my bed as long as you are here.

Joe smiled at that remark, as he understood I was serious and insinuating something at the same time.

• I appreciate your offer, Joe said, but I have to find a way to get rid of those nightmares. It is horrible to not being able to sleep. It is equally horrible to know I depend on someone to sleep. It is as if I don't have my own life in my hands and drives me nuts! The doctors prescribed me sleeping pills, but the result was a real disaster. It gave me the sensation of seeing my nightmares with more lucidity.

• Listen Joe, let's agree that we share my bed so that at least you can enjoy your stay here. It will give you the opportunity to catch up on some very much needed sleep. If I snore too loud, you just kick me in the ribs. Ok?

• Ok, that's agreed, but don't hold it against me if my hands get a mind of their own. They could you know, as you are one sexy hunk of a guy.

• I think it is time you go and buy some glasses Joe, because if there is one sexy guy here, it is you.

All comments welcome at amahy1957@gmail.com