The Labyrinth

The paper felt heavy in Andrew’s hands as he sat backstage. The red velvet curtain sat in front of him, as he heard the silent shuffle of the crowd beyond it. His stomach turned over in constant circles as he smelled the aroma of old pine wood and new paint. 

Nancy, the old teacher who acted as the stage manager, gave the signal to notify him that he was going on next. He could feel chills run down his body, even though the theatre must have been ninety degrees. He could feel his throat close up and tighten. His legs bounced, and his fingers rubbed rhythmically over the smooth page of paper. 

It was funny that one page was all it took for him to write all he had been feeling for the past few months. It took one page to sum up what had happened to him, and to what had happened to Nathan, his best friend who stood through it all with him. Andrew smiled in that moment because he knew Nathan would be in the crowd, watching him. 

Nathan was always the funny guy, the popular one. They had met in elementary school, and ever since that day they were inseparable. In middle school they learned about South American history and Nathan fell in love with the Venezuelan revolutionary, Simon Bolivar.

His passion for history continued through high school, and made him an incredible student. He became captain of the debate team junior year and got accepted to UC Berkeley.  It was so fitting for him to be going there, to the school he had dreamed of attending since freshman year. Nathan was always the performer, the one who gladly spoke in front of a crowd.

It took him years to get Andrew to open up about his poetry, and when reading it he immediately told him to perform it at their high school’s poetry night. Andrew couldn’t push himself to do it, he was too shy. Too easily plagued by stage fright.

A month ago when the poem applications opened up however, he submitted his. There were just so many emotions that had built up and needed a way to be released. He never thought that his submission would be accepted and would place him in the backstage of his high school’s theatre.

He heard the audience applauding the previous performer, signaling his entrance. Andrew’s legs felt like lead walking onto the stage, but he knew Nathan would’ve wanted him to read the poem that he had written. The poem Andrew had written for him.

So, looking over the darkened faces of hundreds of people, Andrew studied the poem that he had written for his best friend. 

“Ever since you were young you thought you walked this Labyrinth alone,

Never realizing that you had touched people along the way.

We walked with you through thick and thin,

Pretty soon we became your kin.

But along the endless navigating and searching for the end you got lost,

And you didn’t know you could find your way back again.

Soon the Labyrinth walls became prison brick and mortar,

And soon all you wanted to do was give up and quit the Labyrinth all together.

You stood there like a mime behind an invisible wall,

Through all the internal silent shouting and noiseless yelling, 

You didn’t think there was any help you could call.

But we were there,

I was there.

I want to break down your mime made wall with all my nerve and sinew.

Rip apart any lie that you told yourself which made you feel small.

I want to scream.

NO PLEASE! 

DON’T LEAVE THE LABYRINTH! 

STAY HERE!

WE LOVE YOU! 

I LOVE YOU MY FRIEND, MY BROTHER! 

STAY!

STAY WITH ME!

LET ME HELP YOU!

THIS LABYRINTH ISN’T SO BAD!

WE CAN TEAR DOWN THE BRICK AND MORTAR AND GROW FERNS IN ITS PLACE!

So stay.

Stay in the Labyrinth.

Please, I beg you.

My Friend.

My Brother.

Together we can explore all the corners and turns this labyrinth has to offer.

We can memorize every fond moment.

And along the way we will always find a reason to stay.

So stay with me and we can call this Labyrinth our home,

Together we can drive out the winter and let the sun shine throughout.

So please.

My friend.

My Brother.

Stay.

Stay.”

Tears came to Andrew’s eyes when he finished. He thought of how Nathan had kept his depression secret for so long, that no one knew until it was too late. Andrew thought about how alone Nathan must have felt.

His best friend who texted him late one night and said.

“I’m sorry, I just feel so alone in this place. I must escape this labyrinth.”

Nathan had the same last words as Simon Bolivar. Andrew could still remember how it felt driving to his house and seeing the ambulances outside. He could still remember how it rained at Nathan’s funeral, as if the world was mourning his loss. 

It was Nathan who was the performer and always told Andrew to break out of his shell. So it was for Nathan that Andrew wrote his poem, and it was for Nathan that Andrew performed it in front of the school’s poetry night.

And as he looked upon the crowd, his nerves and fears shed away. Andrew looked upon the hundreds of faces in the crowd and in them saw Nathan. In the faces of all those who loved and missed his friend, he saw him. 

Nathan was there in that audience, he was a part of the audience. Each of them carrying the love and kindness that Nathan showed everyone he came to know. Andrew knew that he wasn’t the only one who missed him, and he knew that Nathan lived on in the memories of so many people. In that way he could live forever.

So there, on the stage, Andrew said to the greatest friend he ever had.

“Wherever you are on the other side of the Labyrinth Nathan. I see you, I love you, and I miss you so much.”