Tony S.

He probably wants to be independent. But most importantly, he doesn't want to accept being gay...

Damn this is harsh.

As I mentioned that it's based on my real life experience. Tommy may not have the proper closure but he has to move on keeping the memories of him and Brian with him forever. The ending might upset some of you guys but that's the reality. If I changed something, it'd have been a complete fiction and that's not what I wanted this story to be.

Tommy almost didn’t go. The invitation had sat unopened for days before he finally clicked on it, more out of habit than intention, and even then he had stared at the screen longer than necessary, as if the act of acknowledging it might pull him backward into something he had spent years learning how to live without. High school reunions belonged to people who carried their pasts lightly, who could revisit them without feeling the weight of everything that had been left unresolved. Thi

It had been three years by then. Long enough for the edges of memory to soften, though not enough for them to disappear. Tommy had learned how to live around it, how to let the past settle into something that no longer demanded constant attention. It existed the way certain things always do—quietly, persistently, woven into the shape of his thoughts without interrupting them. He knew Brian wanted to be “normal,” so he did not expect to hear Brian’s voice again. Which was why, when

Tommy did not follow him. For a few seconds after Brian walked away, he remained where he was, as if the ground beneath him had not quite decided whether to hold or give. The others lingered awkwardly, their earlier ease gone, replaced by the quiet discomfort of having witnessed something they were not meant to be part of. No one spoke. One of the boys shifted his weight, another cleared his throat like he might say something and then thought better of it. In the end, they did what people a

Brian did not come back all at once. By the time he returned, it was already the beginning of Grade 10, a year that was supposed to feel like a continuation of everything that had come before, not something fractured and rearranged. He had passed Grade 9 in absence, carried through by the assignments he completed from hospital beds and quiet rooms at home, work sent back and forth in careful exchanges that allowed him to remain part of something he was no longer physically present for. Even

Writing this story stirred up memories I'd buried a long time ago. In some ways, it messed me up more than I expected. But at the same time, it brought me a quiet sense of warmth. For the first time in years, I was able to revisit those memories—not just the pain, but also the happiness that came with them. I can only hope the readers enjoy it as much as I do.

By the end of their first term, the shift did not come all at once. If Tommy had been asked, later, to point to the exact moment when something began to feel wrong, he would not have been able to. It was not a single incident, not a dramatic collapse or a clear, undeniable change, but rather a series of small, almost forgettable details that gathered quietly at the edges of his awareness until they could no longer be ignored. At first, it was just absence. Brian missing a class he

Thank you, guys. At first I was hesitant whether I would post this story or just keep it in my archive. It's a short story but has a very deep meaning to me because the fundamental of the story is based on my real life experience from years ago. I've watched Your Name Engraved Herein on Netflix multiple times and it inspired me to write my own story and publish it. If you haven't watched this movie yet, I highly recommend it. Though a short ride this may be, I hope you're looking forward to it and enjoy it.

In 2001, at a Catholic boarding school defined by strict rules and quiet expectations, Tommy Harrington expects nothing more than to blend into the background. Everything changes when he meets Brian McFadden, a charismatic, fearless boy who pulls him into a friendship unlike anything he has ever known. As the years pass, their bond deepens through shared secrets, quiet moments, and unspoken feelings. In a world where some truths are too dangerous to name, Tommy and Brian must navigate the fragile space between friendship, love, and everything left unsaid.

There are some places that do not leave you, even when you have long since left them behind. For Tommy Harrington, St. Augustine’s Boarding School was one of those places that clung not just to memory, but to the quieter, more private corners of him that time had never quite managed to soften. Even years later, when everything else had blurred into something gentler and more forgiving, the school remained precise in its details: the scent of varnished wood rising faintly from the chapel pews, th

Thank you everyone for reading along. I hope you enjoyed the journey. While I originally wanted to continue the story, I feel that Kent’s chapter has naturally come to an end. He isn't a hundred percent well yet, but he is healing and growing more self-aware. My hope is that this story brings a deeper understanding of depression, PTSD, and grief. To anyone diagnosed with depression, or anyone learning how to care for a loved one struggling with it, I hope Kent's story brings you some comfort and helps you cope.

Dr. Ratchanon’s office looked exactly the same as it had the last time I sat in it, which felt almost absurd given how much had shifted inside me. The same neutral walls. The same low bookshelf. The same two chairs facing each other at a deliberate angle that discouraged confrontation and encouraged honesty. I lowered myself into the chair slowly. The jet lag had mostly faded, but my body still felt like it was recalibrating to humidity and routine. Or maybe it wasn’t jet lag at al

Bangkok met me the way it always did, without ceremony and without apology. The airport doors parted and the air folded around me—dense, humid, faintly sweet with jet fuel and street food and the metallic trace of rain waiting somewhere beyond the skyline. Traffic pulsed outside in familiar disorder, taxis inching forward, motorbikes threading between them with reckless grace. New Jersey had felt suspended in memory, like a photograph I had stepped back into for a necessary errand. Thi