AuntConnie.
Hope you’re doingwell.
It’s all she’s written, and I can see our last exchange, when she wished me a Happy Birthday back in May, and my simpleThank youafter.
I haven’t spoken to her in years. She reaches out occasionally, makes sure to message me on birthdays and such. I’ll sometimes offer a friendly reply. A thank-you, like I did on my birthday—but even that much is trying on my soul, because I can’t think of her without thinking about whathedid.
It’s one of the great tragedies that’s come from his actions. I love her, and she’s a good person, but even though she cares, it’s been too much for me to bear having to face her again because I can’t do that without reflecting onhim.
Chills rush through my body, and it doesn’t take long before I feel as though a fever has overtaken me. My chest constricts, and I hop up and hurry to thebathroom.
I vomit, just to get it out, then curl up beside thetoilet.
I’mweak.
Defeated.
Fortunately, all my work with Troy reminds me that, intense as this experience seems, it’ll pass. And even though the initial reaction was bad, I can tell that all the work I’ve done in facing my past has made the moment that much easier tomanage.
My mantra is:I’ll get through this, as I alwaysdo.
It doesn’t still the disquiet within me. Nothing can do that, but it gives me hope that it will end and I’ll be able to think more clearly once the initial painsubsides.
When it finally does, I splash some water on my face and brush myteeth.
I don’t check the message again. I stay away from my phone, even at the risk of missing a phone call or a message from Jesse orTy.
Avoidance…that word plays across my thoughts. It’s not healthy, and I know firsthand how much damage it can do in my life, but I can’t deal with her in this moment. I’m not going to delay it, but I want to give myself enough time to feel like myself again before thinking of what to textback.
I miss you,Connie.
I miss her smile. Her laugh. Hercookies.
A shame to have made so much progress and then have moments like this reminding me of how many battles I’ve yet toconquer.
13
Jesse
As I enterEric’s condo, I call out, “Hey,babe!”
He doesn’t come hurrying out to see me the way he sometimes does, so I head into the master bedroom. The bathroom door is open, but I can’t hear the waterrunning.
Where the fuck is myman?
I turn to his office as the door opens. He wears a somberexpression.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, approaching, and without me needing to ask for permission, he hooks an arm around me and reels mein.
“What makes you think anything’swrong?”
“You think I don’t know you well enough to tell when something’s off? Maybe because you didn’t maul me at the door, attack me with kisses and a desire to get that big dick of yours in my ass. Talk to me. Did you have some homework for Troy that you workedon?”
“No, not that,” he saysquickly.
Whenever Eric keeps me at a distance, it’s painful. He can’t ever understand just how much. He tugs me closer to him and kisses the side of my face, but it doesn’t close the gap betweenus.
“Come on,” he says. “You want to finish that puzzle we’ve been workingon?”
