A year had already passed. It was a cool day just like it had been a year before. Somehow the past year was different without him. Tom hadn't known him for very long, but things still seemed different with Kyle missing from each day.

It was cloudy, as if even the sky wanted to mourn that one year had passed since Kyle's death. The small bunch of flowers that Tom had brought with him juxtaposed the grey sky with their colours, full of life the way Kyle had been. Even so, he found them small and pathetic, but he had to bring something.

He looked at the letters carved into the stone. "Kyle Bishop." Kyle Bishop, who lived for Broadway. Kyle never knew that his very own show made it to that one place that always filled him with wonder. But even if it was after his death, Kyle's dream of getting his show to Broadway was fulfilled. And even though Kyle was gone now, Tom was proud of him. He had always been proud of that young man who was achieving such big things and who had such big dreams.

Tom placed the flowers gently on the ground in front of the stone. With tears in his eyes, he thought about the incredibly short time that he had been able to spend with Kyle. He thought about how cute Kyle was, how pure he was, how dedicated he was to his story, his dreams and his ideas. He reached into his shoulder bag and pulled out Kyle's Tony award, giving the top a little spin before holding it out towards Kyle's stone. Jimmy had accepted the award for Kyle, but since he was serving time, Tom had gotten permission to take the award to Kyle's grave himself.

"I know," Tom said. "It's late. But, look."

He paused, but his voice still became choked up as he tried to speak.

"Look, Kyle. You won!"

He stood there for a few moments before putting it away again. For a long while after that, he just stood there staring at Kyle's name carved in stone and remembering.

He thought about the night they spent together and how he felt that something was starting between the two of them. He thought about serenading Kyle on the piano early in the morning, singing a song that seemed so perfectly suited. He thought about how Kyle had come over to him and said that nobody had ever done that for him before. He remembered Kyle's kiss, and how warm and wonderful he felt in that moment. There were a few times that Kyle came to see him in his apartment, but that night still stuck out in Tom's memory the most.

And he remembered how he had never gotten a chance to say goodbye. Not for real. He had taken part in their tribute to him in front of the theatre, and had told others of Kyle's passing. He had been the one to find out from the police. But he never got to say goodbye.

After their night together, Kyle had left. Of course he left; he had things to do. And then he was gone forever. Tom never got to say more about how he felt, and the two of them never got to discover how much more they could ever love each other or discover each other together. They never got to have any more of those beautiful nights together. And they never would. Finally visiting his grave like this allowed Tom to do what he needed, even if it was painful.

Softly, he said the words.

"Goodbye, Kyle."