Chapter 5 #2
Maybe… I hesitate. Maybe she’s…not the only one I can’t stop thinking about.
He nods, seeming in no way surprised.
It’s so stupid , I continue. As if she’d even be interested in me.
“That’s a pretty big assumption you’ve made there,” he cautions me softly as the microwave whirrs.
I give him an uncertain look. So you know who I’m talking about?
He smiles faintly, without a trace of pity. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say it’s your pink-haired-after-hours-stone-tattoo lady from last week.”
I nod reluctantly. I know I can trust Eli with this, but I’m still not crazy about the idea of talking about it. I don’t get like this over women, you know that. All…preoccupied. Not since Callie.
He thinks about what I’ve said for a second, and then the microwave dings.
Handing me my mug, he takes his and considers his next sentence as he drinks.
“It’s been fifteen years, man,” he says, not unkindly.
“You paid your dues. More than. You mourned her long and hard. Callie would never expect you not to live your life. It’s OK to move forward, and to find someone new. You deserve that, at the very least.”
Let’s not go there , I say darkly.
He mulls it over and shakes his head. “OK. I don’t think having the same argument yet again is going to help you tonight.
” Eli has always insisted, forcefully and with absolute certainty, that I have nothing to feel guilty about regarding the Nolan High Prom, and I beg to motherfucking differ.
But he’s right, that old fight of ours is not something I have the energy for right now.
“All I will say is, it’s OK to like someone.
It’s OK to find someone attractive, you are allowed.
And if you decide it’s what you want to do, it’s OK to act on it.
It’s also OK not to,” he muses, “but I’m not sure that’s what you really want. ”
I bang my mug down on the floor and get up, starting to pace again. He lets me. He knows I need this sometimes, and that suppressing that urge leads to an even worse reaction.
It’s too much , I rant with my hands, my signs getting faster and more violent.
I need to get this fucking nonsense about her out of my head so I can go back to normal.
I don’t like this. It’s too much, and…shit, man…
I’m fucking useless to any woman. I’m a liability.
Just ask Callie. Ask Mrs O. Ask her unborn baby, OH WAIT, you can’t because they’re ALL DEAD -
“See that spice rack?” Eli jerks his thumb over his shoulder, where I have small bottles of herbs and spices all lined up on a small wooden shelf. “Tell me which ones you got.” I glare at him. “I might need to borrow them if I ever run out.”
I don’t want to do a fucking grounding technique. I don’t mean to sound so shitty, least of all to him, but my agitation is climbing sharply again. He’s trying to help, and he’s right to try this, because if it climbs too high…
“Humor me,” he says quietly. “Help me feel like I’m helping.”
I take a couple of long, deep breaths, clenching my jaw, still pissed off. Fine. Salt. Fajita mix. Taco seasoning. Oregano. My hands are getting steadier, making my speech clearer, and my breathing starts to return to normal. Red and black pepper…
Liaden was right about that stuff she made me buy. I put some on my grilled cheese that same night, and I’m a convert. It’s got a better kick, and I can’t imagine having a grilled cheese without it now…
I lean against the wall again. I’m sorry, man.
He shakes his head. “Nothin’ to be sorry for.” I know he means it, too. “Now, where were we…”
I was being a jackass.
“No, you were talking to me honestly about your fears. And I want to know more, if you’re OK with it, and if it won’t trigger anything for you to talk about it.”
I take a long sip of the still-warm cocoa while I gather my thoughts more calmly.
I’m not sure what to say, I admit. I just…
There’s no way I’m cut out for this. Dating, I mean.
Not that she even would… I shake my head impatiently.
I mean, for real, what am I gonna do? Ask her out?
Give me a motherfucking break. I’m sure the gorgeous, successful career woman would just love to give a pity date to the thirty four year old virgin who’s more mental illness than man.
I’ve got nothing good to offer her. If she even entertained the idea of me, she must have the worst self-esteem in the history of hot women.
I rake my hair out of my face. And let’s not forget there’s a very real possibility I could hurt her.
Look at Leo’s eyebrow. How can I risk her safety like that?
I just can’t. I couldn’t live with myself -
“What happened to Leo was an accident, and not your fault,” he interrupts, quietly but firmly, while I swallow down my rising bile agitatedly. “You didn’t intend to hurt him, and you’re in much better shape now than you were then.”
Not by much , I scoff. And it doesn’t even matter, because I can’t afford to take that chance. If I hurt her? A shiver runs down my spine. I’d never come back from that. I mean, imagine if there was a chance you could have hurt Em. Would you have risked that? Of course not.
He sighs, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes and finishing up his cocoa.
“I mean, the truth is, I could have,” he murmurs.
“She’d been through a whole lot when she first showed up.
I could easily have hurt her without meanin’ to, without knowing that something I’d said or done would upset her because of him .
And I still took that chance, because I knew the score goin’ in, and I made every effort to be careful.
Did I fuck up once or twice? Sure. But dude, I’m marrying her in a few months.
We’re good, because we talk about things, and we communicate so the other person can really get it.
Takes trust, but it’s possible, and it’s worth everything.
” He gives me one of his serious looks.
“It is possible, Cuz, and it’s possible for you . ”
My stomach dips, and I nearly start pacing again. Looking at my tattooed letters on my arm helps to ground me. I know what I fucking did. And nothing can erase any of it.
“Not all at once. It’d take a lot of work, and I can’t lie and say it’s all gonna be tweetin’ birds for y’all.
But don’t get all beaten down by the bigger picture.
One day at a time. One moment at a time, if it comes to that.
Break it down into smaller chunks and deal with those, and forget about the what ifs.
‘Cos there are no what ifs. They don’t exist in reality.
All that does, is what actually happens .
The might-have-beens and the fears…they don’t do nothin’ ‘cept bring you down and steal your life.”
I close my eyes. He’s talking crazy from where I’m standing, but he’s also telling me what the deep recesses of my mind, where hope still seems to exist in stupid defiance of all the odds, so desperately wants to hear. What do you mean by ‘smaller chunks’?
He thinks for a moment, squinting up at the ceiling.
“I mean…relationships aren’t just the big moments.
Sure, there’s the first date, the first ‘I love you’, the first time you have sex, all of that stuff.
And yeah, they’re great, and they’re significant, but…
that’s not the sum total. For me, the best and most real moments are in the day to day.
” He smiles. “Tonight, me and Em, we cooked dinner together and talked about our day. We ate. We did some wedding stuff. Then she wanted to watch some Battlestar Galactica to unwind, even though it’s the least relaxing show ever, so that’s what we did.
Then she got sleepy, we went to bed, and she fell asleep first because she always does.
Just an ordinary evening, but it was great , because even for the most mundane shit, she was there, making everything better.
” His face lights up in a way that didn’t happen until Emily.
“And that’s what the rest of my life is gonna look like.
Well, minus the wedding prep, thank fuck . And I couldn’t be happier.”
I smile at the floor. He has more than earned his happiness, and I’m glad it’s finally his.
“And I nearly cheated myself out of it,” he continues with a meaningful look.
“I shut myself away from any possibility, just like you’re doing now.
Felt like one of life’s rejects. An infertile divorced guy?
Form an orderly queue, ladies.” He shakes his head.
“And now look where I am. So really, don’t count yourself out so hard. Because you’d be wrong.”
My smile grows, but the increasingly familiar sting of envy spreads through my gut. I want what he has, but, no matter what he says, it’s always gonna be off the table because I’m just not willing to risk hurting anyone .
Plus, I don’t deserve good things.
“Yeah, it’s going to be on hard mode in your case, but you don’t need to rush a damn thing.
Take it real slow. Have those smaller moments, one at a time, because that’s where life lives, what life is really all about.
One cup of coffee, one dinner, whatever.
Get to know her at your own pace, and if she’s the right person, she’ll be happy to keep pace with you.
And I want you to really listen to me now, Dean.
” Oh, shit, he’s got his ‘I mean it’ face on.
“You do have shit to offer. You’re a good person.
One of the best and strongest people I know.
And you’re kind, even after everything that happened to you.
You didn’t just sit back and become some kind of bitter, abusive asshole because of the hand you got dealt, and many others wouldn’t be able to say the same if they put on your shoes.
That all counts, and she’d be lucky to have you. ”
That fucker. He’s put a lump in my throat.
Eli always thinks the very best of me, and it feels great and so painful at the same time, because I know I’m always going to let him down.
He’s seen me cry before, has literally held me together while I sobbed until I could hardly breathe on more than one occasion, so it would be nothing new if I let these tears fall.
But for some reason I’m not willing for him to see that tonight.
So I gulp down the last of my cocoa and tense my jaw to keep myself in check.
“You can do this, if this is what you want, with her or anyone else you like,” he assures me again, hammering his point home because he knows it’s hard for me to listen when I’m stressed out.
Damn shame he’s so very wrong. But he’s calmed me down a lot. He always straightens my head out. I’m not exaggerating when I say I’d probably be dead by now if it wasn’t for Eli and all our late night talks, and his endless support.
It’d probably be very different to how it was with me and Callie, I say. I mean…last time I went on a date, I had to ask my dad if I could borrow his car, and he told me I had to finish my homework first.
He laughs quietly.
I offer him a tired smile in return. Thanks. Sorry to have disturbed your night. Again .
“Whatever, man, you know I’m good for it.”
I nod. Still, thanks all the same. I’m alright now.
“Yeah?” He gives me a searching look, nods when he’s satisfied I mean it, and heads to the door. “Alright, well, you know where I am if you need me again.”
I feel guilty when I remember I still haven’t told him he’s going to need a new best man. Especially after the past half hour.
I may be calmer and no longer pacing, but my brain is fried, and sleep is entirely out of the question now. Besides, Eli’s given it a lot of points to argue against, even though I’d be so unbelievably happy if he was right.
I decide to just lie on the couch, even if I’ll be awake all night.
Ordinarily I’d fire up a few episodes of one of my favorite sitcoms, the tried and true familiar ones so I could zone out, but the last thing I want right now is to watch a bunch of good looking people whine about the sort of problems I’d give anything to have.
I could go for a another run, which has helped in the past, but I drove myself pretty hard earlier and now I just can’t summon up the will to get my running shoes on.
So I make myself as comfortable as I can for my self-pity fest, and settle in with my thought trains for the night.
One moment at a time… The idea is too tempting.