Chapter 11 #2
That’s kind of why I need to go home. It turns out that coming out to all the important people in my life after a lifetime of cowering in the closet has knocked my world off its axis and I need to learn how to put it right.
It’s taken me 27 years to realize I need some serious therapy and I need to go home to get it before I do something I really regret.
To be honest, I think the reason I was so angry with you when we ended things before was because I felt like I was only living half a life but you?
You were living 100% every minute of every day.
I’m still stuck there, half alive, and you remain the most alive person I’ve ever met.
I’m hoping that with help, I can start living a whole life – and if you want, there will be space for you in it.
I can’t give my whole heart to anyone when I’m not whole. I hope you understand .
Thanks for your patience with me, and Sara and this whole situation.
Thank you for your grace. You’re not just my ex, not just my frenemy, not just my tour mate.
You’re my hero. Please enjoy the rest of the tour, and don’t worry about me.
For the first time in a long time, I really believe I’m going to be fine.
Yours,
Max
I spent a dreary afternoon in a nondescript hotel room while everyone else packed up and said their goodbyes, poring over every word of the letter to make sure it was right. There was so much I wanted to say and I wasn’t sure I’d done my own feelings justice, but it was the best I could do.
There was one other thing I wanted to give him. Well, I wasn’t exactly sure about handing them over, but it seemed like the healthy thing to do.
In a tear in the velvet lining of my Fender guitar case, I’d hidden my memories of Sebastian. The polaroids were starting to fade but I’d have recognized them anywhere. I knew them all by heart.
Sebastian and I, arms flung round each other, sweaty and laughing after another raucous show.
Sebastian and I, heads bent together, discussing a chord progression we were both struggling with.
Sebastian and I, curled up in a bunk together, his head on my bare chest. Photo after photo, memory after memory of the people we’d been and the love we’d had for each other.
It shone out from every photo, so much so that it was almost difficult to look at them directly.
Sebastian still had the same knowing, half smile.
His eyes still glittered the same way. He was older and wiser and way, way richer, but in a lot of ways, he was the same cocky, charming son-of-a-bitch he’d always been.
I still loved him the same, anyway.
It pained me to put the photos in the envelope with my letter, to seal them safely away.
I knew it was the right move, though. I wasn’t leaving my memories behind – I was just giving them to the only person I trusted to protect them, to hold them as dear as I had.
I scrawled Sebastian’s name on the front, then snuck out into the empty hallway to scurry up to his room.
I slipped the envelope under his door with shaking fingers, even though I knew I wouldn’t get caught.
Burning Bright were at the venue, sound-checking and doing press.
It had been announced that we were leaving the tour and I hoped they wouldn’t get too many awkward questions about it.
The last thing I wanted was for Sebastian to have to explain our sudden departure when I hadn’t even explained it to him myself.
By the time I got back to my hotel room, Abbey and Sara were there.
Sara had cried when I told her we were going home, but the promise of getting her ukulele lessons back in LA had stemmed the flood of tears easily enough.
I was kind of pleased that she’d liked being on tour so much – it meant going back on tour again in the future was going to be a lot easier.
“Hey,” Abbey met me with a soft smile. “Sara and I are going to have a sleepover in Mira and Annabelle’s room tonight, if that’s ok?”
“A sleepover?”
“Yeah, you know – cookie dough, pink pjs, making friendship bracelets. I’d invite you but…”
Abbey let her gaze trip down from my vaguely unkempt hair to my three days’ worth of stubble. I tried not to squirm under the glare of her knowing look. It would’ve been a kindness to say my self-care routine had suffered greatly under the strain of arranging to leave the tour.
“I’m alright, you don’t need to…”
“I know,” she said, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “But take tonight to relax, ok? I dunno, have a bath. Shave. I miss seeing your stupid face. We’ve got a long flight home tomorrow.”
I didn’t know what to say in the face of her kindness.
It always knocked me a little off kilter, knowing that I’d somehow lucked out when it came to finding, making, keeping the best of friends.
Abbey, Shep, Mira, Annabelle – they’d all been nothing but supportive, unfailingly kind.
I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve them but I knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Along with Sara, they were the one thing I was really sure of in this brave new world I’d found myself in.
I didn’t have the first clue what I was doing, and I was leaving behind the love of my life (again), but I had my family. I was gonna be fine.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, ducking my head so I could hide my eyes behind my admittedly kind of greasy hair. “I appreciate it. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” Abbey said, letting me go so she could roll her eyes convincingly. “We’re gonna talk a raise when we get home, rockstar.”
I laughed in spite of myself, the sound of it catching me off guard. Abbey grinned in response, popping her gum. I scooped Sara up into a tight hug, kissing her hair. She burrowed into my arms, warm and solid. My universe re-centered itself for a brief, wonderful moment.
“Have a good time, kiddo. Do what Abbey says, ok?”
“Ok daddy,” she nodded. “I’ll make a bracelet for you!”
“I’d really like that.”
I watched them go, a bit uneasy at the idea of spending the night alone even though I knew Abbey was right. I needed to get myself together, get a good night’s sleep so that I could go home and start being the person I wanted to be.
It seemed like a massive undertaking, overwhelming.
But I’d faced overwhelming odds before: I’d left my family home in Utah with a couple of hundred bucks and a battered guitar.
I’d been here before, on the precipice of a huge life change.
The chasm between who I was and who I wanted to be seemed daunting, but I just had to put one foot in front of the other.
Small steps: washing my hair. Shaving. Using the weird foaming facial cleanser Abbey swore by.
I could do those things. Going to therapy, admitting how traumatized I’d been by my religious upbringing, the pain I felt at not having a relationship with my parents, the self-doubt that’d led to me leaving Sebastian not once but twice?
Those were bigger, much scarier things. Couldn’t take the big steps if I hadn’t taken the small steps, right? I had to warm up to changing my life .
I’d just finished towel drying my hair and was settling down to watch a movie when there was a stern knock on the door. I glanced at the clock – it was 11:30pm – before rolling to my feet and padding across the room.
“Abbey, have you lost your key card?” I asked as I reached for the handle.
Sebastian Jacobs was standing in my doorway, looking as stunned to be there as I was to find him there.
He’d clearly just come from the show, his dark hair sweat-slicked away from his face.
His eyeliner was more than artfully smudged – those stage lights were hot – but he still looked more put together than I felt.
“Sebastian?”
“Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye?” He demanded, his voice shaking. I leaned forward, glancing up and down the deserted hotel hallway to make sure no one could hear the betrayal in his voice.
“You’d better come in,” I stepped back, holding the door open for him to slip inside.
He brushed by me, so close I could feel the heat coming off his skin.
He’d changed out of his stage clothes into a fading green tee shirt and light gray jeans.
I glanced down at my thinning checkered pyjama pants and white tee shirt, knowing it was ridiculous to feel underdressed in my own hotel room with midnight fast approaching, but it’s just a natural side effect of being around someone like Sebastian.
“What the hell, Max?” He said, whirling on me with molten eyes as soon as I’d closed the door behind him. “You were really just going to Dear John me?”
“I thought it was for the best,” I explained, trying to keep my voice steady. The last thing I wanted was to fight with him, to leave on bad terms. “With Myah here…I didn’t want to upset you.”
“So you thought writing me a really sweet letter and leaving me photographs of us together…photos from when we were together wasn’t going to upset me?”
I opened my mouth to fire off some smartass reply, but I clicked it shut almost immediately.
I needed a minute to parse through what he said, to try and understand what he meant.
I honestly couldn’t understand why what I’d done would be upsetting to him.
I thought my letter had been thoughtful, nice even.
“Why would it upset you?”
He glared at me instead of replying, crossing his arms across his chest. Sebastian was clearly angry, although I still wasn’t sure why.
I was willing to wait for him to explain, though.
I hadn’t really planned on hashing this out with him, but it was pretty hard to avoid the situation after it had come storming into my hotel room in $2000 boots.