Track 18 I’ve Had Enough
“I’ve Had Enough”
BY THE TIME I got back to Newark Airport, I was an absolute mess.
On top of the nauseating guilt rolling in my belly, I was overcome with a gut-wrenching dread I wasn’t sure I could bear much longer.
I didn’t know how I’d face Jake when the time came, but I knew I had to tell him.
I had to tell him everything that had happened, from the very beginning.
And I’d have to tell him in person. He deserved the truth to be given to him with dignity.
I found a bar near my gate and ordered a glass of cabernet.
My leg bounced anxiously as the minutes pressed on into hours.
I chewed on my nail as I searched my mind relentlessly, struggling to find the words that would explain myself, explain what horrible things I had done.
The words that would tear my whole life to the ground, and break the loving man I was going home to.
When my flight to Austin was delayed, I didn’t know whether to consider it a saving grace, giving me more time to situate my mind, or a punishment, forcing me to remain in a perpetual state of fretful remorse.
I sent a text to Jake, letting him know I wouldn’t be getting in until after eleven P.M., which meant he would no longer be home.
He’d be in the air, beginning his travel for a work retreat turned snowboard adventure that was taking him from Colorado to Northern California over the next six days.
I decided time and space would be a saving grace after all.
I needed both to figure things out. My heart and my head were running in opposite directions, and I was too sick to my stomach with shame to listen to either of them.
I couldn’t sort things out around Jake any more than I could at Mom’s.
I needed to figure out my life, but once I walked through the door of my empty apartment, I couldn’t think at all.
I was hollow. Numb. Lost in my soul over what I had done.
To Jake. To E. To everything I wanted, now crashing and burning before my eyes, and all I could do was watch, knowing I was the one to strike the match.
I was fighting so hard to build the perfect life with the perfect man, but I was too broken and disheveled a person to keep it.
Too much of a mess to do anything but destroy it.
I should’ve known better. I should’ve suspected no spawn of my mother would achieve anything close to happiness. We were destined to be in shambles. Fated to live a life of bitter disarray as we dragged our own hearts through ruin.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t eat. The only thing that made the weight of it bearable was sleep, and even that wasn’t enough. But it was better.
So, I slept.
For two whole days, I opted for temporary death over living just to avoid the agony of my own making. It was all I could do. And it was where I would have stayed had my head not been banging me out of the death, I was trying to suppress myself into.
I slowly blinked my eyes open and looked for the time on the cable box. It was 8:12, and judging by the soft sun coming through the windows, it was evening already. I had officially slept through a third day.
I stretched my body out and rubbed my eyes as I came to.
The knocking banged again, and it took a moment for me to realize it was no longer in my head, but in my ears.
I looked around in a confused daze as I sat up on the couch.
I hadn’t ordered food. And Jake had a key. So, who could be knocking at my door?
The bangs sounded again, and after a brief thought of ignoring them altogether, I decided to get up. I walked to the bathroom, rinsed my mouth with Listerine, and patted my face dry as I listened to the knocking a fourth time.
I walked in what must have been slow motion as the bangs continued for a fifth and then a sixth time. I didn’t yell out. I didn’t announce my presence. I just swung open the door and felt my heart drop six stories when my eyes met E’s.
“What are you doing here?”
My face was expressionless, and my tone was flat. I had nothing left to give, and I didn’t care to try. I turned around and walked back to the living room, leaving the door open behind me.
“You don’t like hello’s, huh?” E closed the door behind him and followed my path. His tone was light but accusatory, like he was shielding his vulnerability with humor.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He lost some of his playfulness then. “I came to say happy birthday.”
I sat on the edge of the couch, crossing my arms across my chest. I had no right to be cold with him when it was I who’d disappeared, once again, but I was barely alive. I couldn’t have been warmer if I tried. And somehow, he understood. But he still wasn’t giving up.
“You could’ve called.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing,” the accusatory playfulness was back. “I went to call, but then I realized I don’t have your number.”
I chewed on my cheek.
“So, you decided to fly halfway across the country to say happy birthday because you don’t have my number?”
E shrugged and rocked on his heels. “Had nothing better to do.” He gave me that crooked grin of his, and I felt a tiny ember in my ashen heart ignite.
He stared at me for a moment, waiting for the flicker of life to hit my eyes, and when it did, with a quick retreat, his smile fell. The lightness was gone, and the weight of the room started to sink into me.
He took a step closer but stopped short before the next. His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for something, maybe for me, but he didn’t dare.
“You don’t look like yourself,” he said quietly. Cautiously.
“Maybe I’m not. Maybe I lost myself a long time ago.”
“Well… maybe you can find yourself again.”
I huffed, looking away as I stuffed my hands into the front pocket of my sweatshirt. “Not likely.”
He bit his cheek as his gaze dropped to my feet and back up again.
“I came to give you this.” He handed me a flat square wrapped in brown paper and twine. And just for a second, I was sixteen again.
He placed his hands in his pockets and watched me.
Tattered strings of my broken heart found each other and began to mend.
My throat clenched, and my eyes prickled at the corners as tears I hadn’t been able to form before rushed to the surface.
My gaze stayed on the gift in my hand for a long time before it met his again.
I placed his gift on the top of the couch beside me, but I didn’t say a word.
His eyes took on a seriousness that tore through me like a drill.
“Why’d you leave?”
My voice was small in my measly excuse. “I live here–”
“You know what I meant.”
I paused. I tucked my lips in as I stared back at him. I couldn’t say what he wanted me to say. I couldn’t bear the words.
“Why’d you leave?” he repeated.
“I had to—”
“That’s a lie.” His voice was stern, and it sent a tiny prick of panic through my chest. E had never pressed me far.
He never pried or prodded. He’d let me lie to myself when I needed to, and let me hide when I wanted to.
But now, we’d come too far. Now, he was here to push my limit.
To force me to face the music I had fled from.
“No, it’s not!” I denied.
“Yes, it is.” He took a step toward me. His voice was calm. Steady and sure. “It’s bullshit, and you know it.”
I dropped my face to my hands and tried desperately to pull myself together.
“I can’t do this, E.”
“Do what?” He almost yelled.
I shook my head with welling eyes, and he stared at me, frustrated.
“What are you even doing, Syd? Do you even know?!” His shoulders rose, and his hands gestured before him. And the look on his face—the desperation in his eyes—it’s something that will haunt me forever.
“This is my life, E. This is the life I’m choosing.”
“Why are you choosing something you don’t want?”
“I do want this! I want to be happy and—”
“Safe?” I swallowed. “You think I can’t keep you safe?”
He closed the distance between us as he said it, the intensity in his eyes boring into mine like a knife. Tears brimmed in my eyes, but I didn’t blink, too stubborn to let them fall. I wanted to seem strong, to seem sure. But he saw right through it anyway. He always did.
“It’s not about that.”
“What’s it about then, huh? Tell me, because I don’t know what’s going on anymore! You love me, you hate me, you show up at my house in the middle of the night and have sex with me, and then you disappear on me. Tell me what’s going on, Sydney!”
I gritted my teeth. “Keep. Your voice. Down.”
“Why, afraid someone’s going to find out?”
“There’s nothing to find out!”
He scoffed and took a step back. “Oh, that’s a good one. Maybe I’ll write it down. Tell it to our kids one day.”
“Argh!” I rubbed my face, trying to gain control of my thoughts. “You’re insufferable.”
I turned and walked toward the kitchen, but he followed.
“Tell me what you want, Sydney. Stop lying to yourself and just say what you want.”
He was right behind me. My heart rate kicked up, and my breathing grew short. I could feel the swift panic picking up speed inside my chest.
“Tell me—”
“I don’t know!” I turned and faced him as I screamed. Tears fell remorselessly as I admitted the truest part of my soul out loud.
“I don’t know what I want…”
His expression softened. His voice was tender and full of remorse. He didn’t say anything for a moment. He just watched me, with tight lips, like he was disappointed I still didn’t see what he already knew.
“You do know, Syd.”
I held back a sob and stared into his eyes as they bounced between mine.
“You know exactly what you want. You’re on the wrong road, and you see all the signs, but you’re just… ignoring them.”
He let out a breath, and I held mine, waiting for his final blow. The one that would undoubtedly take me out.
He stepped back, just enough to break the heat between us. His voice was quieter—no longer angry or frustrated, just somber. True. Like mine never was.
“I hope it leads you somewhere good, Syd. I really do.”