33. Noah
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
NOAH
Idon’t have it in me to write a list right now, and that’s how I know I have hit rock bottom.
I have never been one to give up on anything in my life.
I can remember this as far back as my childhood, when I played Little League Baseball.
I was undoubtedly the worst player on the team, all gangly limbs and baby deer on new legs sort of balance.
I arguably spent more time on the bench than I did on the field, and by the end of the season I had effectively earned my place as the team's water boy handing out snacks when someone returned to the team pit.
All that said, it was never my decision to stop my baseball career before it ever got started, my parents just determined that their money could be more fruitful elsewhere, and I didn't have the heart to argue with them at the ripe old age of six.
It is not in my nature to give up on things even if they don't seem to have very promising endings.
I always try to see the good, to strive for the potential of something great or what could be, even when the road looks bleak or that it doesn't seem worth it.
I still try to give it a shot and I don't half ass it.
Even though there are many, many reasons why another person might throw in the towel and call it the end, I just can't quit her.
In all honesty, I don't think Georgie knows that her actions have such an effect on people, me specifically. I truly believe it all stems from her not knowing how to fight for herself anymore. And if she can't do that, then why would she think it's worth fighting for me?
Chronic illness plays a part everyday of her life, and Georgie’s mood feeds off her anxieties, her need to please people, her need to not let people see the hardships she faces as a weakness.
She has built a wall around her that is almost impenetrable, although I thought I was making some headway.
I will never stop trying to make headway.
It’s very hard to not give in to that little voice inside of my head that says, ‘why are you doing this when results could end in heartbreak’?
The thing is, I see the potential, and I see the worth and the value of Georgie, and I want to strive for that ending that I can see for us.
But right now, it's difficult to even picture that ending when there really isn't even an us here in the middle of it all.
Georgie is shutting down on me again. She's not letting me take the mental load when she needs a break, even though I am more than willing to take it. Sometimes, there are no words or ways to get someone to understand when they don’t want to be helped.
I am at a loss at how to get her to see that she isn't a burden, that I do feel like she is worth it.
I can only hope that she can see the efforts that I made in the past and the efforts that I make now to show her how much I care, to show her that I want these things with her.
All the good, the bad, all of it. I'm here for it, as long as she will let me be.
I try to respect the boundaries she sets, try to respect the space and allow her to breathe and allow her to be whatever she needs to be.
And when she's ready for me to be there for her, I will be.
But I also can't help but feel a slight bit of rejection from her, and maybe that fear of rejection stems from my issues with my parents, but it doesn't make it any less true.
The thing is, I am an all-in kind of guy, I always have been.
I think I have made that clear to Georgie.
And that may be the one thing that makes me question whether or not I want to keep fighting for this, because if she can't respect the one boundary I have when it comes to communication, then I don't know that I want to keep fighting a battle I am destined to lose.
One can only sit alone with their thoughts for so long before I need to find a distraction. The day fades to night, the rain pounding heavily outside my window. A perfect reflection of the turmoil I am feeling inside.
In an effort to feel closer to Georgie when she's so far away from me, I pick up one of our latest joint reads that we left at my house the last time we stayed here.
Georgie's copy sits atop mine on my nightstand, her ridiculously haphazard receipt of a bookmark sticking out between the pages.
It makes me smile, the ridiculousness of the bookmark.
It symbolises everything that makes me love Georgie so damn much.
She's chaotic in a calm way, and although I have no idea how that's even possible, she makes it look effortless. I can't help but be drawn in, a feeling that only grows when we're apart. It makes me long for her, yearning for something intangible. And it makes this all the more difficult.
I know Georgie, know that she doesn't like confrontation, but she's also headstrong and when cornered will fight back at every chance she gets.
If I push too far, she'll shut down completely, and it will be like starting all over again. But I know for my own heart and peace of mind, I simply can't keep walking on eggshells waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s like living my childhood all over again and I can’t afford another round of therapy sessions to process the trauma of it all.
Georgie doesn’t answer any of my calls or texts, her phone likely put aside or turned on silent when she gets like this. She avoids my calls for days, and the longer the silence drags on, the more anxious I become about the whole situation.
“Have you tried, oh I don’t know…. Telling her how you feel?” My extremely hormonal, very pregnant sister asks me during our daily video chat. The groan that escapes me as I flop back onto my bed echoes audibly through the rest of my apartment. Sienna sighs, “I’ll take that as a no, then.”
“How do I even say what I am feeling? I am not exactly known for my ability to express myself.”
“Yes, yes. Our parents did a number on us, I get it. But don’t you think all your problems would be solved if you did? What’s the worst thing that happens if you do?”
I ponder the thought for a moment before meeting Sienna’s earnest gaze through the screen, “The worst thing to happen is she decides she doesn’t want what I want or feel what I feel, and I am left alone, brokenhearted, rejected and…. I think that would probably ruin me.”
“Oh Noah…” her voice is soft, empathetic even as she realizes how quiet my words leave me, coming to the realization that this is it. Georgie is it for me, she has been for a while, and to think that she may not feel the same about me… it’s a whole new level of emotions I can’t even name.
There’s a break in my voice when I say quietly, “What do I do?”
“I mean, I think you already know what you want to do, it’s whether or not you have the courage to do it.”
“I know.” I agree with her, mostly to fill the silence in the room again and also partly because she is right.
I have to know, one way or another. I can’t keep wallowing in my apartment, or at work, or in every moment of every day.
Not knowing is worse than the potential heartache that knowing might bring.
At least, if she breaks my heart, I may stand a chance to recover, to be half the person I was before she made me feel whole again.
“I guess I should figure out what to say.”
“Well, to start, you should write ‘I love you’ in big fat letters across your forehead. That should open up the conversation nicely. Then follow with, ‘hey… we suck at communication, we should work on that’.”
I push up from my bed, knocking the books off my nightstand in the process and glower at her through the lens, “Pregnancy has made you mean.”
“If anything, it’s given me a backbone. An aching one, but a backbone no less. You should have seen me with Mom yesterday, she-”
Sienna continues to tell me about her most recent encounter with our mother, but if I am honest I am only half listening.
Picking up the haphazard stack of books that’s fallen, Georgie’s copy of our joint read has landed precariously open and face down.
When I inspect it for potential damage, I notice something has fallen out from where it was tucked in the back of the book.
Odd, I have never seen these before. Although part of me wonders if maybe it’s just another scrap piece of paper placed there as a potential bookmark, something calls to me to open the creased pages.
The first page is dated almost two years ago, and Georgie’s handwriting details a day with her ex, Brandon.
Realizing it’s a journal entry of some sort, I feel like I am invading Georgie’s privacy in ways I don’t think I can take back.
I didn’t even know Georgie journaled to begin with, but maybe that was something she wanted to keep to herself, and understandably so.
Because once I start, I cannot stop reading about how Brandon made her feel like she was a burden, how he hated to be a caregiver when she needed him most, and how he took and took everything she had to give and then some, until she felt like she was nothing.
My hands shake as I read Georgie’s inner monologue, trying to justify all the wrongs, ending her journal entry with ‘if this is what love feels like, I would rather be alone’.
The next page is a list, dated shortly after the previous one, a list she’s written called ‘here’s what I know about love’, listing 5 points about why her love life is a mess, likely related to Brandon and all that he’s done to her confidence in herself.
It breaks my heart into pieces.
“Noah?” Sienna has realized I am in fact not paying attention, and I hold up the papers for her to see.
“I just found these in her book…. I think she meant to throw them away or something, but I couldn’t help it. I read and-”
“Hey, you didn’t know what it was... So what does the next one say? Mama needs details.”
“Sienna,” The tone of my voice is a mix of admonishment and also one of curiosity.
“Come on! I am bored and unbearably pregnant and I need new entertainment. You’re telling me you don’t want to know what comes next?”
I hate that she’s right. I can’t help it, once I’ve started I can’t stop reading, it’s a glimpse into Georgie’s mind I never would have known about and it makes so much sense, I have to know.
I read the last page.
“Holy. Shit.”
“What? What is it?” Sienna’s camera shakes in excitement. She’s holding on to my every word. “Tell me!”
“It’s the answer I’ve been looking for.” I admit, hands shaking and heart pounding and mind endlessly spiralling.
“And?”
Mind made up, I throw myself out of the bed and quickly pull on my shoes, “I need to go.”
“Go? Where?”
“I am going to get my girl,” I say with a smile.
“Hell yeah! Grand gesture the shit out of her. Oh, I am so proud! I could-”
“Sienna,” I warn.
“Right! You gotta go. I’ll see myself out, call me as soon as you’re done proclaiming your love for her—”
I hang up the phone and grab my keys. With one last glance at the pages in my hands, her written words repeat in my mind like a song that won’t leave. I shove the pages into my sweater pocket, man on a mission to tell her exactly how I feel.
There’s no going back. I am in love with her, full stop. And I think… no, I know she loves me back. I can only hope I am not too late.
August 4, 2024
Falling in love is like falling asleep with a book on your chest. One minute you’re lost in the pages, lost in the meaning of a line, lost in the world you’ve hidden away in.
Your eyes blink blearily, your heart slows to a steady thrum, and your breathing evens out.
Limbs grow heavy. The book slides from your grasp, laying there on your chest wide open and waiting for you to return to the world that you left without even trying.
The thing is, you don’t even realize it’s happening until it’s already happened, until the next time you open your eyes.
Everything around you comes into view, and yet you feel like you’re seeing it all through brand new eyes for the first time.
Everything is clearer, sharper, and more in focus.
The little things you never noticed become the most obvious things.
The little freckle below his bottom lip that you kiss just because you can.
The way his brow furrows slightly and his eyes get that focused gaze when he’s concentrating.
The dip at the small of his back that is so soft and warm in the glow of the morning sun coming through the window.
The way his pants hang off his hips just right.
His hair splayed on the pillow in soft tufts.
The way his hands feel like sunlight on your skin.
The way he takes you into his arms and doesn’t let go.
It’s effortless and terrifying at the same time. You can’t remember how you got to this moment, but you couldn’t be happier to wake up because you know he’s there. Falling in love is just like that.