by Hayden Hunt
“I had a friend in dentistry,” his father said as he sat down on the other side of the table. “Always seemed like a good field to work in, easy hours.”
“Oh, yeah, the hours are usually great. Though I do have to stay behind after hours to get a lot of office work done, which isn’t super fun,” I said. “But floral work, I always found that very interesting!”
We continued to make small talk for another twenty minutes or so. I thought that the more I talked with them, the more comfortable I would become being around them.
But the opposite happened. The longer I was here, the weirder I began to feel. Being around Oliver and his family was just plain weird.
I’d never seen a family dynamic like this. Even before my parents kicked me out, they were never like this. They were never enthusiastic about me. They didn’t show genuine concern for me. But Oliver’s mom wanted to know every little detail about me and I knew why… To confirm I was good enough for her baby boy.
Which I wasn’t. I had never thought that way before, but I was thinking it now. What was I doing here? How could I be sitting with this perfect little family?
I was so dysfunctional. But they talked with so much ease. They were all so happy to spend time together. Me and my parents never even ate at the dinner table.
I was suddenly so aware of just how fucked up in the head I was. I tried to deny it, but in the past few months since I’d known Oliver, hearing him talk about his parents had actually made me jealous. They sounded so great and I’d never had that.
But I couldn’t deny my jealousy now. I wanted this. My life would be so different if I had grown up with this. I would actually have had my identity figured out by now, the way Oliver had.
And I didn’t. I was still a stranger to myself. I kept telling myself that I didn’t care, that I had the relationship and that was enough. But it wasn’t fucking enough. How fucking stupid I’d been to think that.
Who I was mattered. I needed to figure that out. I was still in the honeymoon stage of this relationship and here I was, ignoring myself for him. I was using him as a crutch for my unhappiness and it didn’t really solve anything. I was acting childish. Like a kid in love for the first time… because I was a kid in love for the first time.
I was also an adult, though. And I hadn’t been acting like one at all. My entire life had become wrapped around perfect Oliver. Because he was so perfect and he made me so happy. But I wasn’t fucking perfect. I was a disaster! I was no good for him. Why was he even wasting all his time with me?
And what was the end result here? We fell in love forever, got married, and I became part of this family? As nice as it would be to finally have a decent family, I knew that wasn’t right. I didn’t belong here. I would be a black sheep here.
I was going to ruin things for him. Oliver could have had any guy he wanted. He could go find a decent, well-adjusted guy. He didn’t need to be wasting all his time on me like this. I wasn’t going to be the man to finish his perfect, happy little family. I’d find a way to fuck this up, I knew I would.
I was having a god damn existential crisis all the while, trying to make small talk with his parents about kinds of flowers. I could feel my panic beginning to show—his parents were giving each other strange looks back and forth and I knew why.
My answers had become short. I was barely listening as my mind was racing. I wanted to leave, but I knew I couldn’t. Could I? I mean, technically I could. Especially if I didn’t want to be with Oliver anymore…
And I did. On one hand, I really did because he made me so happy. But he made me happy because he was a good, well-adjusted person and I wasn’t. If I had any sense, I’d walk away from him right now so he could go and find the life he deserved. A life that wouldn’t be with me.
I needed time to figure this out, though. I needed to act rationally. Just hours ago, I wanted to do anything to keep Oliver and now I was thinking of letting him go? This couldn’t be a decision I made on impulse. I had to get through this dinner and then have this existential crisis privately.
Unfortunately, existential crises didn’t always wait for the timing to be convenient, and this one sure wasn’t going to either.
“So, when will Oliver be meeting your family?” Sherry questioned, thinking it to be an innocent question.
“Mom!” Oliver snapped, giving her a look.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I say something?”
This was enough. I couldn’t control my panic anymore. What was I doing here? They were going to find out what a dysfunctional fraud I was. I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t be here anymore. I needed to fucking go.
“I’m sorry, I’m feeling kind of sick, I think I need to go home.”
“Oh, okay,” his mother said, stunned. Oliver looked over at me worriedly.
“Well, maybe we can do this again some other time,” Gene said.
“Yeah, that would be great,” I lied as I made my way to the door and tried to keep my composure.
“Yes, another time!” his mother said. “Feel better, dear!”
“Thank you,” I said as I hurriedly went out the door and tried to rush back to my apartment. I hadn’t even said bye to Oliver, but it was too late to go back now.
Apparently I didn’t need to, though, because Oliver caught up with me in the hallway.
“Babe, what’s going on? Are you okay?” he asked, running to me as I was nearly at my apartment door.
“No, I’m not okay,” I said honestly, standing in front of my door.
“Well, is there anything I can do to help? I can tell my parents they need to go home and I can come over and take care of you.”
“No, don’t do that,” I insisted. “Spend time with your parents.”
“But if you’re unwell, it’s really no problem. I mean, they’ll understand.”
“Stop it!” I finally snapped. “Stop being so nice, stop being so fucking perfect!”
His eyes widened in confusion. “Gabe, I…”
“No, okay, I get it. Of course they’ll understand. Because, like you, your parents are perfect angels. Why wouldn’t they understand?! They’re caring about everything, right?”
“So… Is that what this is about? You don’t like my parents?” He looked hurt.
“No! You’re missing the point entirely. Your parents are fucking fantastic! They’re perfect. And you’re perfect. You’ve got the perfect life.”
“I’m sorry…” he said softly. “I’m just really not following.”
“It’s all perfect for you, except me. I’m going to be the blemish on your life. You’ve got this happy little family and… I don’t fit in.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Of course you do! You know how seriously I feel about you. I’ve never had a boyfriend over to meet my family before!”
“And I think you picked the wrong boy. Seriously, Oliver, how am I supposed to fit in with them? I don’t know what a happy family is like. I’m not equipped to become a part of one.”
“Look, you’re really freaking out for no reason. This is fine! It’s no big deal. You’re making mountains out of mole hills.”
“No,” I said seriously. “I’m really not.”
“So what are you saying, Gabe? That because you had shitty parents, you’re permanently damaged?”
“Yeah. Pretty much. At least too damaged to be with someone as good as you.” Saying it out loud stung, but it was what I really believed.
“You’re a fantastic guy! You do so much for me. You’re a total sweetheart and—”
I cut him off. “You want kids one day,” I said, citing a conversation we had a few weeks ago.
“Yeah,” he acknowledged “You know that I do. What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m not going to be that guy, Oliver. I can’t raise kids. I’ve never known what a good father is like. I don’t know how to be a role model to children. I can’t do this!”
“What the hell are you saying?” He finally snapped. “Are you breaki
ng up with me? Because my parents are too nice?”
I sighed. “You don’t get it. But how could you? You didn’t have the life I had. I didn’t have those parents. You had your whole childhood and all your teenage years to figure yourself out. I haven’t had that and now I’m an adult who has no idea who the fuck he really is. I need to do what you’ve done. I have to figure myself out.”
“So you are breaking up with me!” He had finally realized.
I couldn’t believe the words came out of my mouth, but I muttered, “Yes.”
Tears filled his eyes as he turned and left without a word.
Seeing him hurt like that genuinely ached. I wanted to take it all back. I wanted to tell him to come here and never mind, I’d figure this out with him, I was fine. We could be together.
But I didn’t know if that was true. I didn’t know anything right now. I’d done the one thing I told myself not to do, which was make a decision on impulse. But I had now and I didn’t know if there was any going back from what I did.
This only intensified my panic attack. My heart was pounding, and my skin felt hot to the touch. I rushed into my apartment, unsure of what to do.
What the hell had I just done? Did I just ruin the one good thing I had going for me? What the fuck was going on in my life? I felt like a fucking mess.
Suddenly, I felt like I wasn’t breathing. I knew that I was; there was air getting into my lungs, but it felt like I was suffocating somehow. And my skin was just getting hotter and hotter. I felt my legs began to tremble and I didn’t know what to do.
Now I actually was feeling sick and ironically would have loved Oliver to come over here and help me, but obviously that ship had sailed. I needed to take care of myself.
I decided what I needed was a cold shower. I felt that if I could get my temperature back down, I’d be okay. I’d start feeling better again.
To my surprise, it actually worked. Once my skin was cooling down, my heart rate felt like it was calming and I wasn’t so out of breath.
Okay, I told myself, so this is fine. I can handle this. I can figure this out.
But, for now, I was going to do the exact opposite of figuring things out. I was scared that if I thought about my life too much again, I’d panic. And I did not need to go through that again tonight.
I didn’t want to keep up my avoidant behavior either, though. I thought to call my therapist, but I had lost her personal number, since I’d never called it before. And obviously it was outside of office hours right now.
But that was fine. I’d figure this out next time I saw her. I didn’t need to fix my entire life right this minute. I didn’t even need to think about my entire life right this minute. I’d just keep doing the avoiding thing for at least one more night.
I did pretty successfully avoid things for another hour or so, but then my phone started ringing. I avoided it at first, knowing there was only one person it could be. But I didn’t want to talk to Oliver right now. I was ashamed, humiliated, confused, and anxious, and I needed some time to myself.
He kept calling every few minutes, though. It got so annoying that I actually picked up my phone and started rejecting his calls before the phone could ring several times.
But he wouldn’t fucking stop! My anxiety and embarrassment was starting to dissipate and in its place, I felt anger. I was pissed that he couldn’t allow me this time to myself to figure shit out.
On the last call, I’d had enough. I grabbed my phone, slid open the call without even looking, and let loose.
“Leave me the fuck alone now. I’m not going to talk to you, not now! Can you please just give me a fucking break?!”
I waited only a second for his response, ready to hang up as soon as he gave me a bullshit excuse for blowing up my phone and not allowing me even a second of privacy.
“Wow. You know, I knew your work had been slipping, but I never thought you would take it this far,” I heard a voice say, and it wasn’t Oliver’s.
My heart sank. It was my boss.
“Oh my god, Sir—”
“I was calling to let you know that I needed you to come in tomorrow. You made a pretty large error on some paperwork that needs to be rectified immediately. But evidently, you need a fucking break.”
“No! You don’t understand. I thought you were someone else, so—”
“I see. So you’ve been ignoring my calls but you were willing to answer when you believed it to be someone else.”
“Sir, please.”
“Don’t worry about coming in tomorrow, or any time this week. I’m sorry to do this because you’ve been such a good employee in the past, but you have been really pushing it lately. Calling in, leaving early, and now this big mistake. And the way you just snapped at me? I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re ready for a work environment at this point in your life.”
“I’m so very sorry. Please, I’ll do better and—”
“I’m sorry, Gabriel, my decision is final. Your last check will be mailed to you next Friday as regularly scheduled.”
The phone clicked.
How the hell had this happened? How did I manage to just screw up everything good in my life? First my relationship, now my job?
And I knew that my boss meant it, too. He was such a serious guy; he always had been. Once he made his mind up about someone, that was it. Obviously, he had recently changed his mind about me.
Fuck, this was all so fucked. I had no boyfriend, I had no job, I obviously had no friends or family. I had royally screwed myself now and there was nothing I could do.
So much for avoiding a panic attack.
8
Oliver
Never before had I been devastated by a break up. I hadn’t even been bothered by one, honestly.
And I was devastated now.
I’d been acting like a fucking crazy person. I called Gabe all the time, though he never picked up. I knocked on his door, though he never came to it.
He didn’t completely ignore me, though. The next day, he left me a note on my apartment door. It didn’t say much, just that he was sorry for how the night ended and he needed some time to think.
But how could I do that? I knew I should be respectful of that. I knew I should just give him the time he was asking for. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to be without him.
Especially like this. This felt like such a big misunderstanding.
I didn’t even really understand what happened. We were getting along so well. Our relationship was near perfect. We never fought about a thing. Every night I spent with him was complete bliss.
We had only been with one another a matter of months. So, realistically, I knew it wasn’t the strongest of relationships. But it felt like it for me. In my mind, this relationship was serious.
I felt a little stupid admitting that to myself, but the truth was, I actually thought that this was it for me. That this was the last relationship I’d have. I really could see myself marrying Gabe one day. Maybe even having kids with him.
But somehow, he had some crazy idea that he wasn’t good enough for me?! He was everything I could ever want! He was it for me.
I got this idea in my head that if I was only able to tell him this, things would be fixed. He simply didn’t understand.
I didn’t care what his home life was like. It didn’t affect who he was to me now. He was nothing like his dysfunctional parents. He was a good guy. He was a good man to me and that was all that matters.
I guess I did understand the fear, though I couldn’t relate to it. I obviously didn’t have the same fears as him. But would I, in his situation? If my parents were complete shit?
I might. I probably would have been concerned about what kind of partner and eventually parent I would be if I never had any decent role models. In a way, it was a legitimate fear. We become what we’ve learned.
But that didn’t mean you let that fear rule your life! If you were concerned about what you were going to turn out to be, you did everyt
hing you could to control it. If you didn’t think you could fit into a functional family? That was something for therapy! That was something that could be controlled.
He should have known this. Even more, he should have known that if he had worries, I was there for him. I could help him work through his fears. But instead, he just ran away from me. Wouldn’t even allow me to speak my piece.
I couldn’t stand being home alone anymore. Every time I was, all I could think about was how Gabe was just on the other side of that wall. So close to me, but also so fucking far away.
Which was the position I was in now.
I was curled up on the couch, doing nothing but thinking of Gabe. I tried to do my best to stay distracted, but nothing worked. Going out with friends wasn’t the same, seeing my parents wasn’t the same. Nobody could distract me from my thoughts of Gabe.
I couldn’t even expect them to. Nothing compared to him. And it would be one thing to try to move on, but I didn’t feel like I could. I didn’t have any closure. I didn’t even really feel like we were broken up.
Again, I knew that if I could just talk to him I could fix everything. At least, that was what I told myself. I may just have been saying this to myself because I didn’t want to let him go.
Of course I didn’t. It was like a light had been sucked out of my life. Living without him had been hell.
My heart leapt every time I could hear his door open and shut next to me, or when I heard the clanging of dishes in his apartment. It was like I got a lump in my throat every time I was reminded of his existence, which was daily. I’d cried more in the last few weeks than I ever had in my life.
The worst part was the way it felt like the happiness had been sucked out of all the other areas of my life, too. I no longer wanted to hang out with friends. I didn’t care about going to work. All my arrangements lately were half-assed and contrived.
I didn’t know how to go on like this anymore. How did people do this? How did they just break up with someone who meant the fucking world to them and move on?
I had no idea because, while I had plenty of break ups before, it was nothing like this. It wasn’t with someone I loved this much. All I wanted to do was go back to a time when I was happy with him.