by Perry Matlin
Nobody comes to the door, so I knock again, but again nobody hears me. I decide to walk around back and surprise him. A smile comes to life, as I walk along the side of the house. I can hear music playing in the room, as I reach the back fence. Unlatching it, I hurry inside. I walk right up to the back door. Reaching up, I knock on the back door. Nothing happens, so I knock again, louder. The music stops. I can hear voices inside, before the music starts again.
I tell myself I should turn around, leave and go home because right now I have a horrible feeling. I stand there, not sure of what to do. The song comes to an end, just as I’m turning to leave. I hear his voice. I know it’s him, so I knock again. When he doesn’t answer again, I reach for the fence to leave, but I hear a girl squeal. My back stiffens. I turn around. The music is playing again. I swallow the lump in my throat, as I take the steps back to the door. I knock on the door, more timidly now. I know what I’m about to find, but part of me can’t leave until I know for sure.
I open the door. I know I had no right to, and I know I’ll regret the choice for the rest of my life, but I open the door, nonetheless. Michael and a girl are on the bed. She’s sitting on top of him, and the first thing I see is that they’re both naked. She jumps off of him, reaching for the blanket to cover her chest up. I gasp, before meeting his eyes. They are wide with fear. I turn away and run from the room. I can hear someone following me, but I can’t stop until his fingers wrap around my wrist, and he pulls me around to face him.
“What are you doing here?” he demands, his voice breaking with some emotion. I can tell he’s sorry. I can tell he didn’t want me to find out, but I’m not going to play that game, not again.
“Why?” I scream, unable to keep my voice quiet. The girl finds us then. I recognize her immediately as a girl from my math class. Mia. She looks me up and down. She looks at my tears, Michael’s fingers holding my arm, and Michael’s shocked face, and she smiles nastily.
“I tried to tell you I didn’t want… you wouldn’t listen to me” he explains, his voice hollow. He doesn’t even believe his own excuses. He looks as if the words are costing him a great effort.
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore” he says then. His eyes are on fire, tears hover just beneath the surface, but his voice is firm.
“Just like that? After I forgave you?” I ask him, my voice defeated. He nods, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index fingers. Then he meets my gaze. I can see his apologies there. His useless apologies.
“Why don’t you take your drama queen antics and walk your ass home?” Mia interjects, putting her hand dominantly on Michael’s arm. I look at it, and a question occurs to me. I look at them together, and my stomach begins to flip. I feel my entire body trembling. I can feel the hysteria creeping in.
“Is she one of them?” I ask him simply, referencing the six people he cheated on me with. She looks at him, her eyes are question marks. He looks at me pleadingly and shakes his head ever so slightly. I lose it.
“So, this makes seven then?” he shakes his head again, and I gasp aloud.
“Look, I know you were gay for him or whatever, but he’s done catering to your dumbass fantasies, so run along, before I have to put you in your place” she says, and I look at her, my mouth full of acid, but then she says something else.
“Let’s go back in, before I have to take the trash out. I freeze. My throat constricts. Did she just say what I think she said?
“What did you just say to me?” I ask her, my voice low. I can feel myself slipping over the edge. I take a step toward them. She smiles at that.
“Stop being a little bitch and grow up dude. Or did you forget that you were a boy?” she demands, before leaving me alone in the front yard. She pulls him along, and I can see it in his retreating face. This was the end. This is it. This is what being broken to the core is. This is rock bottom.
When I make it home, I collapse onto my bed, and cry harder than I ever have before. I feel like something is destroyed within me. I feel like this is the end of me. I eventually fall asleep, crying the entire way through. When I wake up, tears are still streaming down my face. Did I cry through the entire night? Hurriedly getting ready for school, I grab my backpack and run from the house. It’s raining lightly, but I still choose to miss the bus. I run down my street, and I make my way to school. The rain finally stops, as I make it to the school parking lot.
I put headphones in, and press play on my music. With all the sound drowned out, I walk right past the hallway where my friends always hang out. I’m not in the mood for any of them yet. I make my way down the dark hallway, and finally get to the cafeteria. I’m here early, so it’s still nearly empty. The smell of breakfast repulses me, as I sit in the very back corner. I pull the hood of my sweatshirt up and lean my head against the cool cement wall. I thought life was going so well. I thought I was happy. I thought I was loved. I thought my life was good.
Life can be very good. It can surprise you with every beautiful day, and it can put a permanent smile on your face when you think of all your blessings. It can be a warm encouraging hug, or the feeling of holding someone’s hand for the first time. I can tell you firsthand that life can be unimaginably amazing. I’ve felt it. I’ve known what it’s like to have sunshine for days. I used to have that. Or did I? The thought occurs to me then, was it too good to be true? It feels like a dream now it’s over. Sometimes, I wonder if it was all some lie that my mind convinced me was reality. Maybe I imagined it all, every kiss, every word, and every beautiful detail I can’t get out of my head now that it’s over. Maybe I’m crazy, and he was some elaborate hallucination. Created subconsciously just to break me completely when I least expected it. Maybe my mind made it all up as some twisted form of self-sabotage. I know better though. I know that no pain this strong could be imaginary. Nothing this hard could be fabricated. No brain could create this agony, this madness.
I look around the crowded cafeteria, as it fills with sleepy students. My music drowns out the noise, so I’m left alone, unnoticed in the corner off in my own shadowed nightmare. Tears slip down my cheek, as the lyrics claim me. The words are like the long, jagged claws of some half-forgotten monster from my past. It feels familiar, but distant. Like this feeling, this sadness has always been a part of me. It’s been buried deep within, smothered under my temporary happiness, long forgotten, but not dead. No, it wasn’t defeated, it was just resting for a while, biding its time. Waiting for the right moment to pounce, to drag me back into the shattered expanse of my broken heart.
I try to remember that I should be thankful for the time I was given. I got to be a part of something that was unmatched. Something, nobody could hold a candle to. We shined so bright, we were so big, so epic. Maybe that’s why it ended so badly. I’ve always read that the brightest stars have the shortest lives. They burn so bright that the gas inside them runs out faster than others. They cannot sustain the brightness. They fizzle out, long before those that are modest. Maybe we were too bright, too epic. We couldn’t sustain something so huge. I try to remember that I never deserved to be that happy in the first place, I try to make myself believe it. I do believe it, but it doesn’t help the gaping hole in my chest. The song fades away, just as the bell rings. I struggle to my feet, and stumble toward the door.
Like I said, life can be really good, but in some ways, I wish it hadn’t been so good. Before all of this, I was fine. I wasn’t falling apart, and I wasn’t missing someone more than I thought possible. I wasn’t looking back at every conversation, searching for the moment when it faded, when the love I knew he had; died. I wasn’t analyzing his eyes across every beautifully tragic memory. I try to remember the exact moment when his lips felt different, when his face changed, when he changed. Now that I’m here, thinking it through, I feel like a fool. I would have died for him, I would have done anything for a love like that, but he didn’t give a damn thing. I continue to cry, as I make my way to class.
A cra
zy thought crosses my mind then, I wouldn’t change a single thing. I found a love that was really something. Just because it ended, and it ended badly doesn’t lessen that fact. I found a genuine, life-changing love in my life. I won’t regret that just because life changed its mind, just because he changed his mind. Life has a way of correcting itself. It’s like people are only allowed to have so much happiness, before life comes back around, and asks for a refund. Life can be beautiful, happy, loving, complicated, messy, passionate, awe-inducing, inspiring, but most of all life can be sad. It can be darker than the darkest minute of the night. It can be darker than the darkest pair of eyes. Darker than the farthest point in the universe, where not a spark of life has ever lived. Life can be good, but also it can be really really bad.
Chapter 35
Mistake
The buzz of my phone causes me to open my eyes blearily. Looking around, I see that morning light is spilling onto the carpet in front of my window. I also notice that his stupid headband is lying on my desk. I sit up. Quietly, I listen for any hint that Antonio is awake. I don’t want to deal with him right now. It’s been a rough few days. I think everyone has noticed that I’ve been down, but nobody says anything. I’m sure they’ve all noticed that I’ve been out of my room more than ever. I may not want to speak to anyone, but I’m terrified to be alone right now. I’ve been having nightmares every night. Ever since that day outside his house.
I quietly dress, before finally checking the notification I got. I have three texts and a missed call. The call is from Michael’s home phone, and the texts are from three different people. Josh texted me to tell me he’s home for spring break if I want to hang out, Lisa texted me to see how the new phone is working, and Vicky texted me to check on me again. I throw the phone aside and look around my room once more. The memories are everywhere. Michael is present all throughout my room, he’s everywhere. A wave of sadness hits me so strongly then, and the tears begin. I throw myself backward onto my pillow and shove my face into it. I scream into the pillow, until my stomach hurts, I keep screaming into it, until I can hardly catch my breath from crying so hard.
Several minutes later, I sit up again. My eyes feel stiff. I know I look like hell right now, but none of it matters. I don’t matter. To him, I no longer mean a damn thing. The thought echoes through my empty chest, and something seems to snap within me. Then resolve strikes. I jump to my feet and snatch the stupid green headband up. I throw it on my bed, before turning to the rest of it. I grab the stuffed animals he gave me, the stupid seal figurine, every single piece of clothing he left here. I take down every reminder, every single dagger. The endless blades he used to pin me down. The tiny little knives he used to utterly destroy me. I take everything the boy I love gave to me, and I throw it into a shoebox. It hurts too much to see him in every corner of my room, to have him waiting to sink yet another knife into my back.
I leave my room behind after that, leaving all the memories beneath my bed. Hopefully that will make it easier to breathe in my room. I hurry through the hall, hoping nobody wakes up before I can escape. Luckily, I get out without being caught. I decide I’ll go over and see Josh. Maybe he’ll make me feel better. Maybe, he’ll take my mind off of it. I quickly walk down my street, attempting to make it out of the neighborhood, before anyone sees me. It’s only about eight o’clock in the morning, so maybe I’ll get lucky. With one last glance, I make it to the trees. Racing into the cover of the woods, I hurry away from my house.
I put my headphones in, and press play on my iPod, as the trees begin to thin around me. Before the first song is over, I’m on the street parallel with mine. I know the way from here, so I turn the music up to top volume, and take off running. It’s a warm day out, so before making it halfway I’m pouring down with sweat. It’s sticky, humid, and gross outside. Summer is coming. My phone goes off again, and I look down to see Michael’s number calling. I quickly hit the ignore button, before I give in. I never want to talk to him again. He calls again. Each time my phone rings, I grow weaker, and weaker. When he calls a seventh time, I turn my phone completely off.
I make it to the end of Josh’s street, and a weak smile crosses my face. I’m sweaty and gross, but I feel okay. I can still feel the ache of my broken heart, but I’m functioning right now. Making my way down his street, I turn the music off. I look around briefly, before strolling up the driveway, and ringing the doorbell.
“You came!” he says excitedly, pulling me into a gross, sweaty hug. He realizes it because he pulls away taking in my appearance. I look down at my sweat-stained shirt, as he allows me entrance. It’s weird to be here. Last time we were in here alone together, we were still together. I smile at the memories of being with him.
“Vicky told me what happened with what’s-his-face” he explains, a look of pure sorrow on his face. I realize the difference between Josh and Michael then. Josh is mature. He wants me to be happy. Even though he didn’t like Michael, he would never be happy that our relationship fell apart.
“Yeah, it sucks. You were right about him” I tell him. Josh doesn’t smile, he doesn’t look triumphant. He looks sad, sincere, and worried. All the things a good person, a good man would feel. I look him up and down then. He looks so different from when we were together last summer. He looks older, cuter.
His dirty-blond hair is longer, curling at the ends to give him what looks like a perfectly tousled head of hair. His brown eyes are the same, but they look more angled. His face is the real difference. Perfect, clean-shaven Josh is gone. In his place is rugged Josh. He has thick facial hair, framing his thin face. It works well for him.
“You look good Josh” I tell him simply, motioning at his facial hair and grown out look. He chuckles under his breath, running a hand through his hair. It looks so rehearsed, so staged that I burst into laughter. I don’t forget about the pain, or the anger bubbling just below the surface, but he looks so much like a model.
I notice then, that he has something sprawled out on the table. I look more closely at it and see with shock that Josh was in the process of smoking weed when I knocked on the door. I realize then that the acrid smell of marijuana is thick in the air. I scrunch my nose briefly, before turning my gaze to him questioningly. The whole time we dated, and I stayed over here, there was no hint to him smoking pot.
“Oh, it’s not a big thing. My roommate smokes it, and I kinda tried it once, and ended up liking it. I don’t do it too often, but I got some before I came home” he explains. I look at him, shocked. Josh was always so squeaky clean.
Four hours later, we’re sitting on the couch, the TV on some crap reality show. I’m sitting close to Josh, his arm wrapped around me, and my head leaned on his chest. This feels weird. We haven’t been this close for almost a year. I remember how much we used to do this exact thing. It definitely feels different than when I was with Michael. Josh is older, smoother, more experienced. I close my eyes then, taking in the show. It’s some cooking competition show, and the producer is super mean, as the contestants cook these crazy dishes. I take in his scent, closing my eyes. I keep trying to forget about Michael, and enjoy the moment, but it won’t go away.
Part of me wants to take his hand. I know it would be easy, familiar. It would feel as comfortable as home. I know it would work; it would be good. Josh would be so good for me. I know all of this, but something keeps me from reaching out to him. We’ve had our chance. We broke up because of his living arrangements during college. He wants to see other people while he’s gone. Wouldn’t that just be the same thing with Michael? I don’t think I’m the kind of person who could do this. I could never be with two people at the same time. How could you love someone like that? If you truly love someone, then you wouldn’t be able to fall in love with someone else.
The doorbell rings then. I sit up, looking at the door. Then I remember that I’ve never had to hide with Josh. I relax, as he makes his way to the door. I’m looking at the screen, when they come back in. I look up, and my heart s
kips a beat. Jesse is standing in front of me. His black button-down shirt open, revealing a white t-shirt underneath. His hair is perfectly slicked back as usual. I flash him a smile, and scoot over to allow him a spot on the couch. Josh looks at me and gives me a single wink behind Jesse’s back. Then he grabs his keys off the bar and turns to me.
“I’m heading to get some beer. Do you guys want anything?” he says, looking between Jesse and me. I shake my head, as Jesse sits down beside me. He reaches down, and I think he’s reaching for my hand, but then he pulls his wallet out, and tosses Josh money. Josh catches it easily.
“I’ll take a 2-Liter of Dr. Pepper, and a Slim-Jim” he says, turning to smile at me.
“Did you want anything Lucas?” he offers, but I shake my head. Josh takes the money and heads out the door, leaving us alone. Jesse leans back and looks up at the TV.
“What are you guys watching?” he asks. I shrug, before tossing him the remote. He smirks at me and begins flipping through the channels.
He comes to a stop on some car show. He mutes the TV, and turns to face me, turning his whole body to look at me. His smile is the brightest sun. It blazes like a million stars. I smile at him nervously, when he doesn’t speak.
“How have you been since we hung out?” he asks me finally. I nod my head, as if to say good. The lie sticks in my throat. I feel like I can be real with him. I don’t think I need to pretend. I feel safe with him.
“Well, I forgave him. I forgave him, and he left me two days later for a different person. Not even the same ones he cheated with before” I explain, and he does a double-take. I see a hint of steel flash in his blue eyes. It makes him more attractive if nothing else. Jesse nods solemnly. I remember thinking the same thing last time as well. Anger looks good on him.