If you’re just now joining us, I’m telling a story… About a boy. If you want to catch up before jumping in, start here first.
It’s an understatement to say that I went on auto pilot over the next few days.
I still hadn’t cried. Not about any of it.
I hadn’t yelled, or broken down, or engorged myself on Ben & Jerry’s.
Not a single pint.
I was just going through the motions.
Living my life and pretending all was well.
Even though in reality, nothing was well at all.
He kept his promise; I didn’t hear from him again. I had no idea what the two of them had discussed that night. No concept of what was going on between them now. No hints at all into what he may have been thinking as the days passed by.
I was in the dark. Completely.
Dee invited me to still join she and her husband camping and four wheeling that weekend, after the boy apparently instead made plans to go fishing with his dad.
I thought about it for a minute, but in the end declined.
I convinced myself it would be better if I stayed home, knowing simply that I wasn’t in the mood to be social.
When Friday night rolled around though, Lindsey was having none of it. She and her husband, along with her sister and brother in law and a few other friends, were all heading to her parent's house on a lake about an hour outside of town.
She convinced me to come along, even if only for one day. With promises that it would be a mellow night involving nothing more than a campfire and boat rides and all the food I could manage to eat.
After having spent a solid two hours sitting in bed by myself staring at the television (over what had been meant to be a fun and exciting holiday weekend with him), I didn’t take a whole lot of convincing.
I threw a bag together and headed out that way.
Once I arrived, Lindsey clued me in to the fact that one of the boy’s best friends had called her husband shortly before I got there announcing that he and the boy were out on the lake and planning on stopping in to say “hi”.
Playing the role of my hero, her husband had apparently told his friend that Lindsey had already invited me up for the weekend, and that it was probably best if the two of them kept their distance.
Again, this is one of those situations where it got convoluted for me. Technically, Lindsey was my friend and had been before I ever met the boy. But it just so happened that her brother in law was one of those core friends I already mentioned he had been close with since childhood.
In fact, at that BBQ that now seemed to be so long ago, I had actually known to look for her brother in law before I ever even met him. I hadn’t mentioned our mutual tie at that time, simply because Lindsey and I hadn’t yet decided how to explain our internet friendship, but I had known from my conversations with her who he was and that he would be in attendance.
I had known all about his perfect little boy, even before he whipped out his phone to start showing me pictures.
The ties between us all definitely made it difficult for me to know where I did and did not belong if he and I weren't a couple. The truth is, I never would have agreed to come at all if I thought for even a second he himself may have wanted to be there. But the last I had heard, he was going fishing with his dad.
The last I knew… he was talking to her.
So when I heard instead that he was hopping parties around the lake with his buddy, I didn’t know what to think.
But suddenly, as much as I had been trying to avoid thinking about him… he was on my mind.
I did my best to play along that night. To slap a smile on my face and drink my beer and join in on all the fun to be had.
The truth is, all I was thinking about was him. Wondering what had been going on between the two of them. What had been said. Where his head was at.
Going over and over everything in my mind as the numbness faded, and the sadness started to set in.
I smiled and laughed and told stories along with everyone else. I played with the baby, and ate, and even found myself jumping in the lake and being dragged around on the tube.
But it was all an act.
I was grateful for somewhere to be. For a distraction to be had.
But there was no combatting the emptiness that was weighing so heavily on my heart.
So, the next night as everyone at the house prepared to attend a wedding for someone who I didn’t know, I packed up and headed home. They had offered to let me stay while they were gone, or to come back the next day when they returned, but… I just really needed some time to myself.
Some time to think.
To process.
And to have my Ben & Jerry’s.
Lindsey called Monday to check in on how I was doing, and attempted to entice me one last time into coming back out; if only for a few hours.
I declined, but told I was doing better. That I would be back to myself in no time, I was sure.
Which is when she took a deep breath, before telling me that the boy had shown up at the house the night before.
He hadn’t called anyone first. Hadn’t checked to see if they would be there. Hadn’t announced his visit in any way, until he was walking down to the campfire where everyone sat.
This wasn’t entirely bizarre. He had been to the house plenty of times on weekends such as this in the past. There had always been an open invite, and technically he hadn’t been the one who was told two nights before that I was there.
It could be argued that his showing up was completely innocent. That it had nothing to do with me at all.
But Lindsey was pretty sure he had arrived thinking I was there. Hoping to see me.
Maybe even to talk to me.
He hadn’t said much while sitting around the campfire, and had only stayed for a few hours. It didn’t sound like he ever mentioned my name.
Or hers either for that matter.
But given who he had been with Friday night, and the reason that had been given for why they shouldn’t come… it was also reasonable to assume he knew I had been there.
And that he thought maybe I still was.
Spending the entire weekend with my friend, rather than just a single night.
I got off the phone with her and thought about this. All the questions whirling up inside of me again.
Had they talked?
Had they seen each other?
Had they… never mind. I didn’t want to know the answer to that question.
But, was he missing me? Had he really shown up in hopes of seeing me?
And if he had, did that mean he had made a decision?
I didn’t have to contemplate these questions for long. Because a little before 6 that night, he texted me a picture.
Or rather, a picture of a picture.
It was the one I had taken. The one he had asked me for after Memorial Day.
He had blown it up to poster size and framed it. Hung it on the wall in his bedroom.
A prominent spot for something I knew would always serve, on some level, as a reminder of me.
Underneath the shot, he had written “Nice pic, huh?”
It had been 6 days since we had last spoken, and seeing his name on my phone I realized I had been holding my breath all that time.
Finally able to exhale, I responded before my brain could catch up with my heart. “Not too shabby. Whoever took it must be pretty awesome.”
He called me almost as soon as I hit send. As if he had been testing the waters. To see if I would even be welcoming of the contact.
Our conversation was awkward though. Stunted. He didn’t sound like himself. And the words weren’t flowing on either of our ends like I knew they could.
Like I knew they should.
He gave me the briefest of rundowns on what had happened between the two of them. That night, the night he had clicked over from me to her, she had expressed to him all the same sentiments she had already unloaded upon Dee. He had listened, before telling her that he was pretty sure he would never be able to trust her again. That it would never be like it had been. That there would be no going back.
They had talked. Caught up on each other’s lives. Exchanged small talk and pleasantries that just 6 months before would have been absurdly cold and out of place between husband and wife.
I think they talked for a while. I even think they talked more than a few nights in a row.
He said he had maintained his position that he wasn’t sure he could ever trust her again, but that in the end he had agree to meet her for lunch and discuss everything in person.
They had decided to meet on Friday afternoon. And then, only a few hours before they were set to get lunch, she texted him to say she was sorry but she realized she still didn’t know what she wanted, and that it was probably best if they didn’t meet face to face after all.
He hadn’t chosen me. He hadn’t chosen at all. He wasn’t calling now because he had realized I was the one, so much as he had realized I was the default.
The one left.
For the first time, I felt like the consolation prize.
He didn't say that to me, of course. Or anything of the sort. In fact, he didn't mention anything about "us" at all. It was just how I felt. Knowing that in the end, no choice had been made.
At least, not on his part.
I didn’t blame him for that necessarily, and I wasn’t bitter. I understood that technically, he hadn’t even been given a chance to choose. That she had taken the choice away from him yet again.
And to some extent, I knew that this was my fault. I had encouraged him to hear her out. To give her a chance. And in one fell swoop, she had taken him out at the kneecaps once more. Checking to see if the door was open, before swiftly slamming it in his face.
I know there are two sides to every story, and that if I ever had a chance to get hers it would probably paint a different picture than the one I already have. There is still a very big part of me that feels for her, in so many ways I can’t even really explain. I don't think she ever meant to hurt the boy. I don't believe that was ever her intention.
But in that moment, I hated her. Hated her for what she had done to him, and most of all; hated her for what she had done to us.
Because even now, I could feel the strain between us. The distance. The cold tension I couldn’t determine a point of origination for.
And the walls that had been erected seemingly over night on both sides.
I had thought this call was exactly what I was waiting for. I had thought it would leave us both blissed out and planning our futures together.
Instead, it was simply leaving me numb again.
Which is why when he asked if I would meet him for lunch the next day, I hesitated.
Unsure of whether or not seeing each other could fix this.
Knowing only that after all that had happened between us the last time we had been face to face, I was counting on our next meeting to be a happy one.
I needed for it to be.
And this felt like already, it was shaping up to be anything but.
I could hear the hurt in his voice though. The pain and frustration and… damage.
And I couldn’t say “no”.
No matter how much my head was telling me I should.
The heart always wins.
So, we made plans to meet the next day.
And then I got off the phone.
Not entirely sure who it was I had just spoken to.
But fairly positive that my boy, had gone into hiding.
And that I too was starting to retreat.
Behind a wall I wasn’t sure either of us would be able to scale.
ADSPACE
