“Eric, please. I need to do this myway.”
It’s killing me, but he’sright.
“You’ve always had everything so together and known who you are. You’ve been living your life like this since you were a kid, and I don’t have a fucking clue who I’ve really been all these years.” Tearing up, he glances around the room, his mouth hanging open like the right words are there, but it’s killinghim.
I rub my thumb up and down the side of the bottle in my hand. It’s the only thing that can soothe this agitation that nags atme.
Oh, please,Ty.
“You know how you were with Mom, but then you started datingguys?”
Now I’m reallythrown.
He adds, “It must run in thefamily.”
The tears finally escape his eyes and stream down his face. He turns away like he can’t face me for it, like it’s that hard for him to dealwith.
The blood drains from myface.
Not because of what he’s shared, but because I feel like such a horrible father. Shouldn’t I have known? Shouldn’t I have sensed something? I figured if there had been any impulses, that would have come up much sooner, and in some ways I’m disappointed in myself. I have so many questions, but mostly, I’m just wrecked that he’s struggling so much to share this withme.
I keep quiet as he wipes his eyes, his lips twitching like he needs to goon.
“I think I might be bi,” he says. “Abisexual.”
I take in his admission, more than anything appreciating that he’s revealed something so deeply personal tome.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. I love you, whoever you love. I can’t imagine you think I’m going to say anything negative about it. Did you really feel you couldn’t tell methis?”
“Not because I thought you’d disapprove. It was kind of hard for me to figure out why I couldn’t make myself tell you, but I was thinking, you always have your shit together. Everything organized and planned and figured out. Here I am, out on a limb with getting certified, planning to shift careers, and then this… It makes me feel like a totalfuckup.”
“You think I’m not afuckup?”
“What the hell do you ever have a hard timewith?”
I push to my feet and make my way to the love seat. “Oh, Ty, if you had any idea,” I say, planting down beside him. “You’ve apparently put me on a pedestal that isn’t warranted. I’m about as big of a fuckup as you can probably imagine. Look at all that’s happening with me and Jesse. My life isn’t all sorted out and together. Not evenclose.”
“Are you kidding me? Since the beginning, you guys have known you both wanted each other. I’m sorting through somuch.”
The impulse rises within me…something I should say, but something that I’m not sure I should either. But sharing means giving Ty some relief over protecting myself, and in this moment, that’s what’s mostimportant.
“Did you know Jesse and I are in therapy pretty much every other week?” I askhim.
“What? Are you guysokay?”
I didn’t realize that was where his thoughts would go, so I hastily reply, “Oh, not about us, though in some ways yes, I guess it is. When I was in high school, I ran away from my dad and went to my aunt and uncle’s, expecting to find friends who would support and encourage me. And what I found…” I hesitate, but I’ve come too far to back out now. “My uncle was a predator. And in what surely was less than ten minutes, he changed my entire life. I became this closed-off, guarded man, trying to survive, but questioning anyone and everyone in mylife.
“For a long time, I convinced myself I was fine, and then I met Jesse, and I discovered all these walls I kept up to protect myself and push othersaway.”
Ty’s listening so tentatively, like now he’s showing the same respect for me that I showed for him when he was sharing histruth.
“Ty, when I found out about you, I was scared as fuck, but I also wanted to be a good father. I wanted to be there for you and to be the things my own dad wasn’t for me, but those walls I created…so fucking long ago…they stood in my way. And they made me doubt myself and my ability to be there for you the way you needed someone. I remember going to your games in high school. There was one game in particular where you made all these touchdowns and your teammates picked you up and cheered for you. They were fucking shouting your name, ‘Ty, Ty,Ty.’
“I couldn’t have been prouder of you, and I tried so hard to let you see that, let you feel that after the game. And my fucking horror came when you asked me, ‘How’d I do?’ And I thought I said all the right things, and I patted you on the back and tried to be what you needed, but in your eyes I could see…disappointment. It wasn’t enough. And I was horrified because I realized I couldn’t be what youneeded.”
I take a breath, rubbing my hand against the side of the beer bottle I still haven’t taken a sip from. “That’s when I started spending more time in San Diego again. Because I thought you’d be better off without me, but now I know how selfish that was of me. I kept you at a distance, and there was no way you couldn’t have felt that, especially as a kid. I know what it’s like, because my dad wasn’t there for me. I should have fought harder, but it wasn’t until recently that I even grasped how much it shook me to my core, and I’m sorry for that. I’m so sorry for not trying harder or figuring it out sooner…because I really do love being your father, and I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit atit.”
Seeing him wiping either side of his face with the back of his hand, trying to remove his tears, gets me goingtoo.
