ODAAT: Volume 2, Chapter 4

 

A Memory

I think it's been almost a month since Jared came to town. He's come and gone a few times, but always ends up coming back. I don't know if I'm the one he wants to spend time with, but I'm not complaining. I think, personally, he's just spanning the time until Frankie gets here. I think Jared wants to be here when he gets home.

“He told me about the upcoming tour. It's kicking off in April, I believe.” I announce, looking over at Jared. We're sitting in the living room with the fireplace crackling in the background. We were watching movies, but grew tired of staring at the screen. Now we're drinking wine and talking about life.

“I'd like to come to some of the shows, if I'd be welcome.” He hints. I laugh, nodding my head.

“I'm sure that can be arranged.” I offer. He's quiet for a minute, looking down at the couch.

“I'm sorry about the, well,” He pauses and I watch him bite the corner of his mouth. The way he pulls his bottom lip with his teeth is sexy and he doesn't even know it. It's just a distracted habit of his.

“Don't mention it.” I dismiss, not caring to drag up skeletons from the past. He nods, taking a sip of the wine. It leaves a stain on his bottom lip that I have to pretend not to notice.

“How long is he going to be in New York for anyway?” He mumbles under his breath. I don't know if he's trying to change the subject, or just generally disappointed. I shrug.

“He doesn't know. He's up to his elbows in paperwork, he said. If he had his way, he'd be home already, I'm sure.” I answer loosely. I don't really have the answer, after all.

“You're not worried? He should be home by now, right?” He questions. I laugh, shaking my head.

“No, Jay. The insecurities are all yours, remember? I trust him.” I assure, smiling. He looks up and smirks.

“You trusted me too.” He reminds me. I shrug. I know how his insecurities work. I've been around them enough to understand when he's questioning something. But I'm not questioning anything. I'm here with Jared and nothing is happening between us. I'm showing that I can trust myself. I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone. I'm just trying to prove it to myself. I know, my morals fluctuate. I know I'm not the most trustworthy. But he is. He was committed to this relationship, even when he was with Blake. While Blake thought they had a future, he was planning his future with me. Physically, he was loyal to Blake. Emotionally, he was anything but. It's not like he could have told Blake that he was in love with someone who wouldn't give him the time of day. I'd only even see him if we were with other people. I would never be alone with him. Not until I knew Hunter was done with our relationship. I only entertained Frankie when I found out Jared was back with Kathleen.

“You know, come to think of it, we never broke up.” He observes, directing my attention back to him.

“You're right. We just sort of, went our separate ways.” I agree, trying not to think about it too much. He's right. No harsh words, no argument. We didn't even discuss it. For all he knew, I was coming off that tour and we were going to work things out. It wasn't until that final show, when that question changed the game we were playing. Took us off the game board and threw everyone for a whirl. Myself included. That was when we both actually knew it was over. When I said yes. It's taken us a month of being around each other to finally approach the subject of our past.

“I think it was a wake up call for me.” He declares, sipping his wine. I nod, looking over at him.

“I knew I had to stop being so passive, letting everything just fall apart. I had to be more aggressive and learn to fight for what I want in my life.” He continues rambling. I don't know if he's referring to the time we've been apart, or just the fact that I was gone, or just in general. I don't bother asking, either. As much as it gives him closure to speak of the past, it makes my skin crawl. I don't see him as who he was. He's not the same person. He's not the person I met in New York and fell in love with. He's not the man I traded my world for. He's not the boyfriend I lived with who dismissed my existence. He's not the silence that lingered, echoing through that house. He's not the man I left behind without a single thought or flicker of remorse. Because he's not Hunter anymore. Hunter is nothing but a memory. I'd like to keep it that way, if at all possible.

“You're making it sound like you haven't given up.” I observe, looking up at him. He puts down the glass of wine in his hand and stands up. He walks over to the sliding doors that lead onto the balcony off the living room. He opens them wide, like he's turning the doors into a metaphor. He's looking up at the night sky, lit up from cities beyond our eyes. The stars seem to be shining brighter tonight than I've seen them shine in years. Maybe because tonight is special. Maybe because I'm finally looking at them as I follow him onto the balcony. The air is crisp, but the weather is getting warmer since it's the end of February. I look from Jared to the couple curled up on the chaise lounge.

Crystal and Charlie have been out here for over an hour. They're half-asleep, curled up underneath a brown and beige blanket. It's something that Charlie's mother made him for Christmas. Crystal loves it. Right now, she's pointing out constellations with a wave of her finger. Charlie is laughing and listening to her tell stories about how each of them were formed. She knows so much about things that aren't worth knowing. But, he seems to like it. The way she seems to like how he has an opinion about everything, even if he has no business doing so.

It's funny how we see the traits in the people we love, versus the same traits in the people we don't. I might find Charlie annoying and pretentious, if he wasn't making Crystal so happy. I might find Crystal annoying and manipulative if she didn't always put a smile on every face. I might find Jared dismissive and self-involved, like I once saw Hunter. But I don't. Why? I thought I loved Hunter, but I didn't. I was in love with the idea more than the person. I saw him in the light of the savior he once was to me. When he stopped being that, he stopped being anything. I never saw that I fell out of love. I never would have, if it weren't for something shaking up the snow globe my life had settled into. I might have never seen the snow was little pieces of Styrofoam. It wasn't real. At best, it was a stage. My life had become a performance. Pretending I was fine when I wasn't. Hiding my real feelings and screaming inside my head and heart. Lying to myself about where Hunter was always going when the truth was right in front of my eyes. Acting like everything was fine when we were out together. Every aspect of my life was about giving the outside world a show. A performance.

Go figure, when Frankie turned my life into a literal performance, everything felt real. The spotlights gave me anxiety, made me shake and quake in my shoes. But it made me feel and I began to realize that feeling anything is better than feeling nothing. Then anxiety became excitement. The make up artists painting my face into colors turned me into something I no longer recognized. Yet, somehow it felt like taking off the mask. Writing became a way to let out the demons I had been trying to hide, even though it's all about the reception of the words. I cared so much less when I finally had a reason to start caring. Because when I had a reason to, I had no desire. I stopped caring about the reception and started doing what I wanted to do with my own life.

He showed me what it meant to be alive. Then he took off.

I wondered why until right this second, standing on the balcony with the three people I've been the closest to in my entire life. When Frankie finally gets here, he won't be an answer for me. He won't be my life line. He'll be an addition to the life I made without him. I won't attribute him with fixing the mess I had made of myself. Sure, he bought this house. But, it was more for Crystal than it was for me. Crystal doesn't have a savings account with all the money she has ever made. I do. I could afford to buy a house if I wanted to. I didn't need his money. I didn't need his help. He didn't get me the job that pays the bills and buys our food. He didn't help me to make new friends and build a life for myself. He didn't get Crystal a boyfriend, or give her a new direction with her writing. He didn't fix our messes. He gave us the means to fix them ourselves. He showed me reality, then left me to figure it out for myself. He didn't want to be my savior.