You Can't Unring a Bell

Do everything, regret nothing.

I adopted this as my motto as a freshman in college. First year at Penn State University, and I wasn't shy about trying new things. Jumping at any opportunity to push myself past my limit. Taking life by the horns and living for the moment. Sophomore year, I decided to have it tattooed on my body for a constant reminder.

Since then, I have tried to live my life with no regrets. Acknowledging every single action, decision, or word has a consequence . Everything I have done has lead me to this exact moment, whether consciously or subconsciously.

Unfortunately, this epiphany came a little too late.

There is one moment I wish I could re-live. A decision that haunts me to this day. Not even the understanding of free choice and personal autonomy could provide comfort. I bear no hesitation in wishing I had taken a different path.

Allow me to tell you a story.

Meet Clyde - 18 years old, senior in high school. He's the homeschooled kid of the group, but far from the known stereotype. He had an advantage being homeschooled, he was able to enroll into a few college classes his junior year of high school. This allowed him to make "secular" friends. Alcohol, drugs, sex, cursing - everything he was taught and conditioned not to do, Clyde had done.

Senior year, he had to live a double life. There was College Clyde, who everyone loved and wanted to be around. He was able to do whatever he wanted, and ultimately, be his authentic self - a lover and admirer of all genders. But at home there was Catholic Clyde, who, at the insistence of his very religious parents, was a youth leader for middle schoolers, a straight shooter, and believer, just like his family.

The lives of College Clyde could never cross paths with Catholic Clyde, at least until he moved away for university. Despite his father being employed by the university he went to, his parents knew nothing about his other life. He knew under no circumstance could one life bleed over into the other. Clyde was a master at keeping the two lives separate.

Until Sam walked into his life.

Meet Sam - 13 years old, 8th grade. He's the life of the party - intelligent, funny, reliable, wise beyond his age. His smile could light up any room, and the twinkle in his eye made everyone want to talk to him. Sam was the pitcher on his middle school baseball team. Everyone loved him.

The youth group Clyde was a leader in had a lot of middle schoolers. At the start of the year, the routine was clear. The meetings would start with all of them in a big room with there would be a main topic. From there, the students would be separated into small groups of ten per leader. Sam was assigned to Clyde's group.

Clyde didn't really interact with Sam and didn't know much about him. All he knew was that Sam's parents were friends with his. However, Sam always gave an interesting perspective on the topic, and at times, challenged Catholic Clyde to the point where College Clyde felt comfortable to respond. Intrigued by his student, Clyde not only looked forward to seeing Sam every week, but also attending and being present.

For weeks, Clyde and Sam challenged each other. Until Sam began to retreat. He started speaking less and less. The spark and light that emanated from this young man faded away. Noticing this slow transition, Clyde would make sure to give extra attention to Sam by checking in with him after every session. "Sam, I'm here if you ever need to talk. I promise, I won't judge," Clyde would say to his young student. Week after week, Sam would reassure Clyde with a simple nod and smile.

A few months before the end of the year, Clyde's parents allowed him to spend more and more time with his friends, thanks to his older brother's persuasion. With this new freedom, College Clyde even took the leap into dating. Of course one of the benefits was double dates with his brother, which also meant more time outside of the house. College Clyde was out more than Catholic Clyde. While they both equally cared for Sam, College Clyde had a hold over his thoughts. Distracted by a new person in his life, middle school youth group was last priority. Clyde may have been there physically every week, but mentally he was always elsewhere.

"Hey, Clyde, do you think we can talk afterwards?" Sam asked at the beginning of the small group. Clyde's normal answer would've been "yes," but that night he had a double date to a movie premiere. It was a rare chance to be out late with parental permission, one he wasn't going miss out on. "I'm sorry, buddy. Can we talk next week?" Clyde responded.

"Oh, yeah, sure."

Even though his brother and their dates were waiting on him, Clyde made sure to do his weekly check in with Sam, which always ended with, "I'll see you next week?" Like clockwork, Sam smiled and nodded.

Except next week never came.

Sam hadn't been to youth group for a couple weeks, and Clyde didn't want to think too much into it. Kids missed meetings all the time. It wasn't something that never happened. But his gut told him this time it was different.

Clyde's worst fears were confirmed. Sam had taken his life.

Deep in denial, Clyde refused to go to Sam's funeral. He even went as far as refusing accept Sam's death. Through the encouragement from two unlikely sources, Clyde decided to attend, where he learned Sam left a note. In this note, he apologized to his family for being gay, and while he knew they loved him, Sam believed life would be better without him.

He would've been 27 this year. While I've finally begun to forgive myself, I will never forget him.