Over the last seven years, boredom has never been a part of our relationship. Empathy has been a part, as has anger at times. But a hard-earned love for each other is finally the basis of it all. I can’t imagine my life now without Brandon in it.-Kevin Sessums, in a moving essay on how being a mentor to a teenager in NYC changed both of their lives.
The Family Center suggests spending alternate weekends with each other, for a total of six to 10 hours a month—though Brandon and I usually spend more time together than that. We’ve gone to museums and the movies, played basketball, and ridden miles and miles of bike trails. During the early years, I ate more fast food than I’d ever eaten before—until Brandon learned his new favorite word: brunch. Now he’d rather eat eggs Benedict than Egg McMuffin.
...We were having dinner the other night on the way to see Daniel Radcliffe in the play Equus when I asked Brandon’s permission to write this story. I was curious about what his favorite memory was of the seven years we had been spending time together. Would it be one of the Yankees or Knicks games we had attended? Would it be the time, in my role as a celebrity interviewer, I’d persuaded Mariah Carey to sing “Happy Birthday” to him on my tape recorder? Or when I introduced him to Marisa Tomei at my local flea market in Chelsea? How about the first time I took him on an airplane? The first time he beat me at bowling? His first horseback ride on Cape Cod, where he comes to visit me for a week each summer?
“I think it was the first time we played that board game Clue when I was a little kid, and I suddenly had an accident in my pants,” Brandon said. “You didn’t make fun of me. I had really bad diarrhea. And you took care of me. That’s it. You just took care of me.” He paused, knowing he had surprised me with that answer. “I tell you things I don’t tell nobody else,” he said softly. “I’d have a lot more pain inside me if you hadn’t been around.”
The entire piece is well worth your time. You can read it by clicking here.