29. Noah
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
NOAH
Reasons I Have Royally Fucked Things Up
The moment she said she needed time for herself, I knew.
I knew I'd done exactly what I had always told myself I would never do again.
I knew I had overstepped, overwhelmed her, overstayed my welcome in her life, and had cared too much about making her see all the reasons why I was worth keeping.
I was always positive and optimistic, even in times when the last thing she needed was a pep talk.
And yet there I was, trying to show her how she deserved to be treated and taken care of, how I wanted to do all that for her because I cared, because I am so fucking in love with her that the very idea of not being with her makes me feel physically ill.
The last time I felt like this was the day I walked into her apartment and saw her in pain for the first time.
I saw her in her barest moment, a moment she'd told me she'd often get through alone.
I knew that I wanted to show her that she didn't have to be alone, that even when she wasn't perfect, she was beautiful, and that nothing she could do would change my opinion.
I found her charming, enchanting, a breath of fresh air.
She challenged me in the best ways, and she made me want to be better.
She was so strong-willed, determined to face her battles alone.
She was resilient and feisty and everything that I wanted, everything that I still want if she'll let me.
I know I come on strong. It's just because I care so much, too much, about others and their feelings and how I can try to make their day better.
Sometimes I don't realize I overdo it until it's already done, until the person pushes me away, and I am left with a broken heart and too much time on my hands to think of all the ways I fucked it up.
My mom likes to say I am in love with the idea of love.
Part of me wanted to point out that maybe Sienna and I both searched for love in everyone we met because our parents were far too busy advancing their careers to care about showing us what that really looked like.
But I never said anything, never told anyone that aside from Sienna, and only really think about it in moments like this, where it's glaringly obvious.
The thing is with Georgie, I entered her space, entered her life like a pest she couldn't keep out.
I trained a foster dog to take care of her.
I researched far too much, made her feel like I was trying to heal her or fix her when she was far from broken.
She was perfect to me, is perfect to me in every single thing.
It made me fall quicker, headfirst and without hesitation.
I think what hurt the most was seeing the pain glinting in her eyes as she asked for space.
I know, in my mind, that she was probably coming from a place of defence today.
I know she went to the doctors, could tell she'd been trying to hide something from me, and while I hadn't pressed the issue, I am sure her HS is flaring again.
She became shut off about it lately, tried to keep spots covered, hidden from me, shying away when I touched a bandaged spot and looked at her in a silent 'how are you feeling.
' She'd give me a tight-lipped smile and carry on as if she wasn't hiding possibly one of the hardest things to go through.
And she was choosing to go through it alone when all I wanted was to show her that I was there for her in any way I could be.
But if what she needed was space, I could give it.
She would talk to me about what was going on when she was ready.
I was sure of that. I just had to be patient.
But something I’ve come to realize is when you spend so much time with another person, you forget how lonely it feels to go back to an empty apartment.
There's no tippy, tappy sounds of claws across the floor tiles, Birdie is not waiting in the doorway for us to get out of bed.
There's no chorus of relatively on key musical numbers echoing through the place while she takes a shower and sings at the top of her lungs.
There's no one to cook a meal for, to watch her eyes light up as you've crafted something tasty that you know has none of the trigger foods that will wipe the smile away and cause her pain. Sitting on your couch alone is not as comfortable as curling up on the floor under a blanket fort you made at 4am just to make her laugh. Watching movies and shows is not as fun when there’s no side commentary, no discussions mid-episode about fan theories and conspiracies.
You become a unit; you forget how to be a person without the other by your side.
I focus on something other than the overwhelming feeling of something missing.
I ignore the way my heart yearns to reach out to her.
She asked for space, and I promised her that.
I can't text her first. If she messages me, I know that I can answer her because she came to me first. I try to not think, focusing on making more of the paper decor Franny taught me to make.
Never did I ever imagine that I would be making tissue paper flowers and glowy lanterns, but here I am, and here they are strewn across my house in a terribly organized assembly line.
Fold, fold, fold, glue, don't think of Georgie, fold, fold, fold, glue. Repeat until the end of time.
This feels a lot like the first time she shut me out.
She didn't want me to see her hurting, she didn't want me to know what she was going through.
Then, I was able to get her to understand that I wanted to be there, and I wanted to show her that I cared.
Now, she knows all this, and she still chose to ask me to leave.
I feel like a schoolboy with a crush. The scent of strawberries and sunshine are still ingrained in my mind, and I have to keep telling myself that if I worry about it any further, I'll never get sleep, and I'll never be able to function tomorrow.
And damn it, I have a baby sprinkle to put on.
I am determined to show Sienna she chose right in making me—her only brother—plan this big day for her.
I take my natural sleep aid to help me feel sleepy, these were a lifesaver when I was pulling triple midnights followed by day shifts at my old job.
In the time it takes me to fall asleep, I think about my life and how it's changed so drastically.
I lost my job, got a new job, found a person who is everything I could ever want and more, learned a new skill in yarn dying and even crocheting small items. Although I didn't become a doctor or lawyer or something big and hot shot like my parents wanted me to be, I did have passion and a love for people; caring for them was and always will be my number one priority.
While I don't remember falling asleep, the sound of my alarm echoes out and I pat the other side of the bed, searching for Georgie.
When I blink to get my eyes to adjust to the light streaming into the window, I realize I'm not at Georgie's, and then I remember everything in a wave that makes me close my eyes and wish for more sleep.
Instead, I throw myself out of bed for a shower and a start to my day for a baby sprinkle party that I have to make perfect.
This Sprinkle, thanks to Franny's expertise, is exactly what Sienna imagined and then some. It looks like something from a Pinterest board, all soft creams and baby pinks and gold accents highlighted by the freshly manicured grass of my parents’ backyard.
Sienna and Ricardo have far too many friends to fit in my apartment, and I wanted a nice area where everyone could gather to celebrate them and their little bean without feeling overcrowded.
The backyard had been my parents’ way of contributing.
They didn't bother to offer planning or putting money into the party itself.
Instead, they would reap the glory of the party that I spent all my time on and made sure that everything was perfect for my sister.
She deserves to see that someone in her family cares.
My midday is spent stringing fairy lights around the canopy of a pop-up tent I rented from a local party place, and then the streamers and tissue paper decor that I'd been making for days got added.
The soft pink and cream and gold lit up the vibrant green backyard like something out of a catalogue.
If I didn't already love my job, I would go into business with Franny in a party planning business.
The silence of the backyard is peaceful, the breeze blowing through the grass, trees and rippling the water.
I can remember a time when I came out here to avoid our parents’ fights, yelling at each other from across the house instead of talking in the middle like civil adults.
They got past that rough period, and they're still hopelessly in love with each other.
Back then however, I swore to myself that in the future, if I was feeling anything other than pure happiness in my relationship, I would sit down with the person and tell them how I felt, and listen to how they were feeling.
We'd work through it like the adults that we were, and we wouldn't make everything as messy as it had been for my parents.