Track 16 Keep Your Head to the Sky
“Keep Your Head to the Sky”
THE SPRING SEMESTER ended that June, in a blur. I passed my finals, though I had no idea what they were. I got a job I didn’t care for, just to pay the bills. And I found a room to rent with another girl from school, which I rarely stayed in.
I was operating on autopilot in every aspect of my life because, try as I might to ignore it, E was getting married.
Things with Jake were steady as always, but I couldn’t escape the pull he felt to take things further. He was starting to lose patience with my diversions and lack of answers, and I couldn’t blame him, but it didn’t make the conversations any easier.
Still, our time together remained easy. Effortless and enjoyable. The way I thought things should be.
One night after dinner, he twirled me around in his kitchen as we danced to the smooth jazz playing in the background from his old-school stereo.
It was sweet and soft, and it made my heart smile.
We danced and swayed, and I lay my head on his chest with a warmth in my soul, thinking, maybe this could be enough.
He brought his lips to my shoulder and kissed gently. “Move in with me,” he whispered, and the warmth was gone.
“Jake,” I sighed, pulling away from his chest while remaining in his strong arms. “I can’t.”
“You can,” he said with a small, downward smile. “But you don’t want to.”
His eyes weren’t filled with sadness or rejection, just… acceptance. Like he knew I’d deny him before he asked, but chose to ask anyway.
“No, I don’t want to,” I started. “I just think that’s a big step, and we have one year left of school.
We shouldn’t be worried about splitting bills or grocery shopping when we have so much to focus on.
” It was a poor excuse, shameful even. It teetered on the line of lie and truth, and he usually let me keep it. But tonight, he wouldn’t.
“Sydney,” he took a deep breath as he released me. “What’s really going on?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He leaned back against the counter onto his hands, his shoulders relaxed, feet crossed at the ankles. “I’m not trying to press you, I just… I’m starting to not get it, and I hate that I don’t, but… maybe if you could explain it to me, I could understand.”
“Understand what?” I crossed my arms in front of me, holding my ribs together to keep the truth in.
“Understand why you don’t want to move in.
I mean, you say it’s about wanting to focus on school, but you’re here every day, and it hasn’t taken your focus off anything.
You say the thing about grocery shopping, and it literally makes no sense because we grocery shop every week together.
If anything, it would be easier because we’d be shopping for one place instead of two.
” His voice wavered, and I could hear the frustration seeping out.
It was clear I wasn’t the only one trying to hide their feelings.
“I just…” He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. And I want to. Please, explain it to me.”
I looked away from his beautiful hazel-green eyes, full of love and charm and confusion. I didn’t want to lie looking into them.
“I just think… When people move in together, things get complicated. And what we have is so simple, and easy, and nice. I don’t want to ruin it with unnecessary pressure we don’t need.”
He was quiet after that. His fingers drummed lightly on the edge of the counter. His jaw was tight, and his eyes cast down, like he was watching a thought form.
“But that’s just it,” he said, voice softer now, the fragile pieces of him coming to light.
“It’s only simple because you won’t let it be anything else.” My heart ached, and my breath caught in my chest.
“You keep us at arm’s length,” he continued, looking up at me again.
“You give me just enough to feel close, but never close enough to feel… I don’t know…
more. And I try not to push. I try to be patient, because I know you’ve been through things I don’t fully understand, and I never want to be someone who makes you feel cornered.
” He pushed himself off the counter and took a slow step toward me.
“But I love you, Sydney. I love you, and I want a life with you. A real one. Not just you sleeping over and leaving in the morning. Not just pretending we’re playing house when we both know we already have a home.
I just want to know if that’s something you want.
Or if this—” he motioned to the space between us, “—is as far as it ever goes.”
My eyes stung as I tried to hold back tears I didn’t want to release.
My heart pounded in my chest with every word, every syllable he spoke, because he wasn’t wrong.
Not about any of it. I had drawn the line.
I had built the wall. And he had loved me anyway—softly, gently, without any pressure at all.
But now he was asking. And I didn’t know how to answer. Not truthfully. Not without hurting him.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. It was all I could say because it was all that was true. I loved Jake, and I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t be someone I wasn’t ready to be.
Jake gave me the faintest smile—one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then stop running from me.”
The words rushed through me, pricking every inch of my body on their way out.
Their weight lingered in the air with a heaviness.
Because wasn’t that true of me? Wasn’t I always running?
Wasn’t that what E had asked of me so many years ago?
And I didn’t listen. I kept running. And look where that brought us—to the corner of another woman pregnant with his baby, and married.
E moved on with his life because I gave him no other choice. And now here I was, pushing away the only man who chose to stay beside me, who chose to give me stability. Choose to bring me peace in my chaos. Yet, I was still running from him.
I wasn’t one hundred percent sure what to do. All I knew was I didn’t want to lose Jake, and it was starting to feel like he might be slipping through the cracks my broken heart had created. So I figured, seventy percent sure was close enough.
“You’re right,” I said, letting go of my ribs. “I have been running.”
Jake’s face gave way to shock and excitement all at once. Like he was surprised I’d finally offered an answer. Something tangible that made sense.
“And it’s not because of you. It’s because of me. And a list of mistakes I’m afraid to make, so I don’t end up like my mother. But you’re not a mistake, Jake.” I closed the distance between us and took his face in my hands. “You’re the one thing I’ve actually done right.”
He smiled then, small and relieved. My heart swelled knowing I was able to give him that.
“I’ll move in with you,” I said.
His smile widened, and my heart nearly soared. “Yeah?” His hands came to my waist, and he squeezed me gently.
“Yeah.”
I smiled into his lips as they came down on mine.
He swept me up and carried me to his room, where he made the sweetest, most passionate love to me, and I relished knowing it was me who made him feel so valued.
For once, it felt like I had done something right, and though it didn’t burn like the flame I was used to, I was warmed enough to think, this will be enough.
Three days later, I was fully moved into Jake’s place.
His loft was spacious and bright, with large windows along the south side of the living room and a modern kitchen with high, unfinished ceilings throughout.
It was much better than my tiny dorm or the closet of a room I was renting, but more than that, it was something that felt like home.
Jake had turned the second bedroom into a study space early on, so when I’d come over, I’d have a place to escape if his friends were there to watch the game.
When I agreed to move in, he immediately moved all his clothes to his closet, giving me full rein of the walk-in closet in the master—something I didn’t need but was predestined to fill.
Our first month together was heaven-sent.
There was music and cooking and lots and lots of sex.
Over the couch. On the couch. In the shower.
On the counter. Over the counter. Right in the kitchen, in the middle of cooking dinner…
My favorite, though, was against the living room window during the Fourth of July fireworks.
He’d take me everywhere and anywhere, and I loved every minute of it.
It was the fiery passion I had yearned for, and it filled my desire so well, I almost forgot E had gotten married at all.
Almost.
I could never fully forget. But one thing was certain—it didn’t sting as badly anymore.
Something had healed inside me with that move.
It was like giving in to Jake was the antidote to the poisonous pain I was holding onto from E.
I started to feel silly for having held onto it so long.
I started to notice the terrible pattern of my addictive behavior.
I was happy to be rid of it. Happy to be free from the vicious cycle of agony and suffering I had been in for so many years.
I was happy to no longer feel loss, but gain, so much so that I wasn’t even scared to be alone when Jake left for his golfing trip in San Antonio.
I felt strong and grounded. Like nothing could take me down now that I’d found my legs to stand on. But like a toddler taking its first steps, I wobbled at the first sign of instability.
Jake had been gone for two days when E’s call came through.
My heart stopped beating, and my body went cold as I watched his name pop up on my screen. The taunting decline or accept buttons glowed while my phone vibrated with life. I sat there for forty seconds and watched as it rang and rang and rang, until finally, it stopped, and I could breathe again.