15. Michael
It was disappointment more than anything else, but I needed a second to think. I walked into the bathroom and shut the door, washing my hand and my dick off. Sarah was so perfect for me, except that one thing that made us different. I wanted adventure. She wanted to settle.
I stared at myself in the mirror and realized just how much I wanted both her and this new job. It just sounded like she wasn”t interested in moving at all, which meant I”d have to choose. The problem with that was, if things didn”t work out between me and her, I’d be left without the job of my dreams. And if things did work out between us, I’d have to stay here in Savannah and give up what I really wanted as far as my career went.
When I heard the hotel door shut, I rushed out only to find her gone, along with all of her belongings. I slumped onto the bed and picked up my phone. She left me a text saying she had a family emergency at home and needed to go, but I knew the real emergency was that I’d snapped and upset her, though this wasn’t directed at her. I just hadn’t handled it well.
So, I dressed slowly and made my way out and down to the front desk where I checked out. They felt sorry for my having been stood up, so they gave me fifty percent off my night’s stay, but it didn’t make me feel better. I wanted my dream of traveling and living in other countries, but I wanted Sarah too, equally as much. The problem was that I gave up that promotion before on account of her, and that hadn’t worked out. Though, Tammy would have told me that it wasn’t just because of her, but more so my lack of self-confidence.
Then I got in my car and drove. I didn’t head home. Instead, I got on the highway driving south and realized that by muscle memory, I was headed toward my mother’s. It was a couple-hour drive, but it gave me time to think. And boy, did I think. I thought of life with Sarah abroad, finding places to use our skills to help others and change the world. I thought of life with Sarah here in Savannah and a different sort of pleasure I could have. But I’d always be stir crazy.
There was something missing in my life, something that would give me value and purpose. In my opinion, it was my desire to travel and see new places, help new people. And how could I live my whole life without having that visceral need met? I didn’t want to walk through life feeling half-empty or like a zombie. And I knew Sarah didn’t want to, either.
It took a few hours to get to Mom’s house, and it was late. I felt bad surprising her like this, but I was here now, and tired. After the emotion of the evening and the long drive, I didn’t want to turn around and go home. So, I parked in her drive and ambled up to her door, knocking softly.
She opened with a surprised look on her face, rollers in her hair, and her night robe on already. “Michael, what are you doing here? It’s so late.” She stepped back so I could walk in, and I passed by her into the warmth of her living room. Nothing was out of place or had changed since the last time I was here. Same floral sofa and chairs, same wooden coffee table arranged to make the television the focal point of the room.
“Just had a late night and thought I’d stop by. I didn’t wake you, did I?” I slid my jacket off and dropped it across the back of the chair and sat on the end of the couch.
“No, dear, though I was going to bed after this show ended.” She shut and locked the door and joined me on the couch. Her hand rested on my knee, and the look in her eye told me she knew something was wrong.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and buried my face in my hands. When life got heavy, I had no real friends to turn to. I had coworkers, but none of them were close enough that I’d trust them with this sort of issue. Mom, however, knew just about everything, though I left out certain details that might concern her when necessary.
“I’m just torn up. I think I’m in love with this woman, but I have this amazing job opportunity.” I rubbed my face, feeling sorry for myself. Mom placed her hand on my back and smoothed it across my shirt in a small circle.
“Have you told her?” she asked, a very wise question too.
“Not yet, but I did sort of ask her if she’d be willing to move away from here someday. She doesn’t want to. She has a little girl who is attached to her parents.” Sighing deeply, I leaned back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. The textured plaster made designs that looked like flowers, and I focused on one in particular and tried to decipher what sort of flower it looked like as a means to distract myself from the frustration.
“I see,” Mom said, folding her hands in her lap neatly. “So if you take the job, she won’t go with you.”
“Exactly.” Her saying the words out loud only made it hurt more because even though she meant it like a question, it was more of a finality. A pronouncement of my fate. “And I just want to rest and forget how I’m feeling right now.”
Mom rose silently and left the room. When she came back, she had a pillow and a blanket. She tossed them onto my lap then ruffled my hair.
“Sleep well, Michael. I’ll have breakfast at seven.”
She withdrew, leaving me in solitude as the lights flipped off and I kicked off my shoes. Nothing would make me feel better or relieve the pressure I was under. I wasn’t battling Sarah or the job, or even my desire to see the world. I was battling my insecurity that I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough for myself, and thus how could I ever be enough for London, or California, or Toronto, or the woman I loved? And how would I ever convince Sarah to follow my dreams if I couldn’t even do it for myself?