As I took a step back, I could see all the blood drain from Momo's face. I noticed a quiver in his lip, as his gaze darted across the floor, avoiding mine.

"I see," he finally replied, muttering under his breath.

With that, he walked back into the living room. I just stood there in the balcony, watching him make himself a cup of coffee. As he sat there on the dining table, sipping away – not even once did he look in my direction. I sighed, and turned around to face the street beneath me.

More than ever, I felt conflicted. I still wanted them both in my life. Both of them were important to me, but it seems that my attempts to reconcile these two conflicting worlds have failed miserably, and everything I tried in my power to bring them closer together only pushed them further apart.

A part of me regretted telling Momo that. He didn't need to know, first of all. And perhaps my phrasing too wasn't the best. Sure, I hadn't lied, but the way I have phrased it made it seem like Ferran moaned out Rafel's name yesterday. I was sure Momo believed that.

It was too late to try to correct or clarify anything now, I guess. A part of me even felt that Momo deserved it. Momo said nothing about it.

We never brought up the subject until a few weeks later. I had tried to simply forget our conversation on the balcony, to move on with my life. Yet, ironically I knew deep inside that I was in nothing but a state of everlasting limbo. Perhaps I needed someone, or something, to take me out of my misery.

I never even contacted Ferran in that period, and neither did he contact me. I couldn't tell whether he was swayed by Momo, or it was just his usual self, withdrawn from the world. It was difficult to tell. I couldn't help but feel like I was stuck in a purgatory of my own making.

It was a weekend, and I had just finished my exams. Momo and I decided to spend the day at the Palais Longchamp, just to unwind for a bit. We had just visited the natural history museum and we were just enjoying the grounds of the magnificent palace. I've always enjoyed the grand monument, with its ornate sculptures, colourful flower beds and magnificent fountain.

It was a rare moment that I got to spend together with the boy I love. We had been busy with our jobs and school. Momo was also rushing back and forth between my place, his dorm, and his old house. His grandmother had been getting worse. His aunt could barely leave the house anymore given his grandmother's frail state, and Momo and Hasan had to step in to help. Hasan had taken more days off from his gym too just to be there for his family.

As we walked up the stairs leading up to the colonnade, Momo brushed his hand against mine. I held his fingers in my palm for a brief moment, before finally letting go. Momo rarely ever showed affection in public, but we always managed to sneak in a few gestures here and there.

He was wearing a blue denim jacket over his black shirt, just perfect for the weather. Just when it wasn't too hot nor too cold. He told me how Hasan was happy for him that he was doing well at his internship, and that he was grateful for him helping take care of his grandmother. I only smiled.

"He told me he wanted to get me something," Momo said. "But I told him not too. It's fine."

The golden sun was shining through the colonnade, casting long shadows.

"It must be nice to be so loved by your brother," I said.

"Do you know how it is to be loved by a brother?" Momo replied.

He turned to look at me, a firm smile on his lips. I was about to mention Rafel, but I had a gut feeling that that would've been a wrong answer.

"A real brother," he continued. "A brother of your own flesh and blood."

"No," I muttered. "You already know I don't have one. Never did."

"It is a warm, familial love," he continued. "Pure. Unbreakable. No matter how far apart we are in time and distance. It is the kind of love that resonates from the day you were born and until the day you will die."

"Unfortunately something that I will never experience," I said, trying to dismiss the topic.

I didn't like where this was going.

"There is nothing perverted about it," Momo replied. "Nothing twisted, nothing sexual. And that is how it should be. That is how a brother's love is like."

I only smiled painfully. He was obviously talking about Ferran.

"You hardly hide your disdain for him nowadays," I said.

"I have no such feelings."

"Momo I know you too well," I continued. "I can tell."

"Surely it must've crossed your mind that his love for his brother is wrong," he replied.

"It's not my place to judge," I shot back. "You don't know what he's been through."

Momo only shook his head, before letting out a deep sigh.

"You're still defending him."

"Because Rafel entrusted him to me."

Momo tilted his head to the side.

"Rafel. . ." he muttered his name with a sigh. "It feels like I'm living in a shadow of a dead man. He's always there, everywhere. Even though I'm right here, in front of you."

I tried to ignore him, taking a look at my surroundings instead. Beyond the colonnade, down the winding staircase was the lawn and fountain, with flowers dotting the garden in daffodil orange and iris purple. On the other side of the building lay the former zoological gardens, with arabesque pavilions reminiscent of the other side of the Mediterranean nestled within olive groves broken by winding stone paths. The birds were chirping as they roosted in the trees, barely drowning the distant hum of the traffic in the background.

Momo and I descended the staircase leading to the back of the building, walking through the former enclosures of the animals that used to be there. They were empty now, save for the colourful sculptures of animals reminding us of where they used to be. Momo and I said nothing to one another – that was until we walked past the former giraffe house and reached the wolf enclosure.

There was a sculpture of two wolves in the middle of the deserted domed iron cage. One had its neck craning towards the sky as if it were howling, while the other stood by its side, facing it with its snout. I wondered what it might've been like in this very cage a hundred years ago, when they still housed real wolves. Did they ever feel trapped within the bars, curious peering eyes tearing away at them through the gaps from all sides?

Momo stared at the sculptures, his hands shoved in his pockets. I thought nothing of it, until he spoke to me.

"When you told me you loved Rafel like a brother," he said, not even turning to look at me. "Did you mean it like how Ferran did?"

Now it was my turn to be dumbfounded. Momo finally turned his head.

"What- " I muttered. "What makes you even think that?"

Momo pursed his lips.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I guess it was always something that has been on my mind."

I only shook my head.

"I think you've gone on about this for more than enough today," I said, cutting him short.

Momo fell silent. He mumbled an apology under his breath.

That night as I lay with Momo in bed, I closed my eyes and brought myself back to the past; back to the days of country fields, dorm rooms and bicycle rides. Back when my only cares were my exams and how to get back on time with Rafel after we snuck out to our usual hangout spot at the cypress grove. Back to the time that seemed so far away now.

Rafel and I rarely talked about anything sexual. I guess that would be abnormal, given that we were hormonal teenage boys sharing our entire lives with one another. Because I truly saw him like a brother – the one brother I never had. Sure, he was conventionally attractive, with a muscular body, piercing eyes and a chiselled jaw but the attraction was never sexual.

If I were being honest, after I found out he was a virgin, I felt somewhat ashamed of myself. It motivated me to keep my sex life private from him – I didn't want him to know about me like that. He didn't need to know that I lost my virginity in the school bathroom with a swimmer from the school team.

A part of me was afraid that he would find out I liked boys too. I didn't know why – maybe it was because I wasn't happy with myself either. My tryst with the golden-haired boy from the swimming team truly made me realise that as fine as women were, men were equally, or perhaps even more attractive to me.

It was one of the small things that I regretted when it came to Rafel. That I never told him. Around him I've always felt ashamed – as if he might just let me go, disowning me and never wanting to have anything to do with me ever again.

It was Momo that has taught me that it was never about 'coming out'. You don't owe anyone access to your true self. It should be a choice of letting people in – be it just a trusted few, no one, or just about anyone. I loved Rafel, and I surely would've let him in. I just regret that I now I would never have the chance to. He should've been the first to know. And now he never will.

Looking back it all seemed so silly now – but I was just a lost boy struggling with my own sexuality and navigating through a world which had just seemed so alien to me. I never had anyone around me that I could trust to guide me, all alone in that boarding school in the countryside. I couldn't talk to Amélie, and I certainly couldn't talk to Rafel.

Sexuality wasn't just about sex – but especially when it came to love between two men it had always seemed to me so. The love between a man and a woman on the other hand, seemed as expansive as the sun-kissed vineyards stretching all the way to the snow-capped mountains. It never seemed to have any bounds. We seemed to have built our entire culture, our institutions around it. Marriage, raising children, images of a father returning from work to a loving wife, a hot meal and a beautiful son and daughter – that love seemed to encompass the world. But love between men was supposed to be fraternal, of brotherhood, of camaraderie – and anything beyond that was unexplored darkness. Perhaps we were just afraid of what could've been, of the possibilities that could exist.

But in a culture where the love between men is seen as being abnormal, I suppose it was expected the only place where such sexuality and desire can be expressed is through sex. As nice and pleasurable as sex was – it wasn't all there it was to sexuality.

Of course the love between men, a love beyond fraternal, has always been there. It had been there from the time of the ancient past, and it would still be there by the time everyone I know has reduced to nothing to dust and bone. Humans are dynamic creatures; our values and beliefs change and vary over the vast expanse of time, but what remains the same is our capacity to work with what we had. People like me have existed, and will always do. They experienced the same joys and sorrows of love that I did. Perhaps they too had to search their souls to find out who they truly were and what really mattered. And I found comfort that maybe somewhere else in a faraway time, be it in the distant past or the near future another lonely boy didn't need to feel ashamed that he liked other boys. I just wish it had been me.

Rafel's passing was the catalyst for the soul-searching that took me from the mountains and foothills of my hometown, to the limestone cliffs of Marseille. It was thanks to that, that I was finally comfortable being myself, for liking men. That I was able to understand that there was nothing wrong with me.

I just wished I had found that courage to be myself back when he was still alive. I was afraid that I'd lose him if he knew, and yet I still lost him anyway.

"I'm going to see Ferran today," I told Momo that morning as we ate breakfast. "It's been a while, and I need to talk to him."

Momo put down his mug of coffee. The clink of the glass against the table told me all I needed to know.

"I see," he muttered.

"You don't like me going there, I know," I replied. "But I have to."

Momo only sighed. He looked defeated.

"Why are you so against it?" I asked.

He looked at me with those large hazel eyes of his, a sad smile on his lips.

"I'm just tired, Mateu." He muttered. "I'm tired, from everything. You're not the only one with problems. Between you, my grandmother, and work. . . I have no energy left, so I'm not going to argue with you anymore."

I only kept silent as I toyed around with the scrambled eggs on my plate.

"I know a sinking ship when I see one," he said. "I just don't want to see you drown when you don't deserve it."

"Then what about us then?" I snapped back. "Do you think we're a sinking ship too?"

"Mateu please don't-"

"We've been arguing back and forth ever since we returned from the trip," I pushed. "Every time I see your face, every time I hear your voice – we're always fighting. When is this going to end?"

Momo just buried his face in his palms. He was silent for a while, but then he began to sob.

I immediately regretted my words. When he looked up at me, his eyes were red and full of tears.

"I'm sorry if I've been cranky," he muttered. "But my grandmother doesn't have long left. I go there and watch her grow weaker every day and slip away from me with absolutely nothing I can do. And you've never even asked!"

"Momo I'm sorry," I blurted.

"It's always about Ferran. Or Rafel. Or pondering about your past." He said. "But you've been so self-absorbed that you never even noticed that I'm suffering. Sometimes I feel like you don't even care."

He was right. I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt hit me as I listened to his words. Because it was nothing but the truth – I had been so busy, lost in my own thoughts, worrying about my own problems that I failed to see the poor boy in front of me. He'd do anything for me, he proved that. Even if It took him trying to get Ferran to leave me for my own sake. Yet I have failed him. But there was still time, I hoped.

"Of course I care about you Momo," I muttered, reaching out to hold his hand across the table. "When are you going back there again?"

"Later this afternoon," he said.

"I'll come with you," I offered.

He looked up at me with his glassy eyes. His lips still quivering, the corners of his mouth curved up into a slight smile.

"I want to be there for you when you need me," I continued. "The last thing I ever wanted is to let you down."

"That's really nice of you," he muttered. "Please, I'd love it if you came. It's been a while since you did. . . And my grandmother really likes you. She asked me the other day when my friend was coming to see her again, she'll be so happy to see you. You don't know how much this means to me."

"I just have to settle some important matters first and I'll come back immediately."

Momo pulled his hand away as he let out a deep sigh. The smile and excitement that had been there just a few moments earlier had all but vanished into thin air.

"Of course," Momo said sadly, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Anything for the most beautiful boy in the world."