The Tragedy that was Kyrith Alvin

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He left everything to me. In his will, his properties, 50% of his company shares, his car, his house - his fucking laptop and clothes.
He left it all to me.
The only thing he left in the name of his parents was the house they lived in and a small restaurant he helped them open because his mother wanted to have some fun.
He left everything to me.
His house keys, his bank account details, his swiss account, his trust fund.
There was no mention of Vidal's whereabouts in the will.
But, for Vidal, according to his will, it was a trust fund that will mature itself out at 18 and be in his hands, leaving the kid a million served to him on a platter with a little yacht and an estate the size of a castle.
He made sure Vidal won't need anything and nor will I - except we both needed him and we didn't have him.

I had almost burned the will and then crumpled it and then straightened it and then read it over and over.
I didn't know if I was angry, sad or just lost. Kyrith left me the richest but the poorest man on earth and I had no idea what to do anymore.
I wondered why our fates were so horribly written. What was God upto? Pissed off at us? Was he pissed off at something else and took it out on us?
God...I loved that man more than the air I breathed, and the moment I knew it was more than my hero complex for him in school - I felt my world shake.
Men don't really fall in love with other men and manage to live a good life in our world. But you know what has more trouble living an easy life?
An interracial couple.
Kyrith's mother, Rose, was not racist. I was glad when he brought me home with him for a study session, and Rose just laughed at my worried face.
"I am not a racist bitch."
I had visibly calmed and sagged at her words. She'd prepared me a meal, talked with me and then left me with Kyrith to work in his room.
She really wasn't racist. But she was a homophobe, a devout one.
So when she found Kyrith and me naked, in his bed in his apartment he rented near college - yeah, that shit didn't go well.
She went ballistic, hit Kyrith with a pan and slapped me twice. She screamed and yelled and cried and I stood like a drowned rat.
Her words of us being sinners and going to hell and never getting forgiven turned to me being the perpetrator and a lecherous person, a gold digger and a hostile human to be around - the Rose that wasn't racist said some pretty racist shit to me that day, and I realised that trying to change and walk away from some horrors of the society was easy - but to not have it impact you at all was impossible.
She dragged her son away and cursed me, and then a week later I had some goons rough me up.
Kyrith didn't know, I think, anyway.
He left college and joined another institution, in a different city, stopped coming by after that, but we were in contact. The kind that hurt because I couldn't touch him and I craved his touch the most.
And then Rose won and our love lost and Kyrith was nothing more than a tragedy I kept trying to survive and fail.
Sometimes, I wish I hadn't tried at all, because failing was horrible.

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