Always “we’ll talk” to you later. Not “I’ll.” Not you. Just some mysterious “we.” As if that somehow distances yourself further.
I hung up, looked at the phone, and sighed. The call was a disappointment. Sure, he didn’t yell at me, but nothing had changed.
Except, I realized slowly—not necessarily happily or even hopefully, but I could at least recognize it—one thing had.
I’d taken the effort to really emotionally connect.
Not just tried to in a subconscious manner, such as recreating the scene with bad boys. I hadn’t fled from the scene like I had with Sonny. I’d really, honestly, genuinely tried.
It’s not like that made me feelgood.I still had some distance with my father. Maybe things would change down the road, but age had not mellowed out my father, at least not yet.
But this really had to count for something. Holy hell, this had to count for something.
I put the phone down and gave a weary smile. I supposed tonight hadn’t been a total waste. Maybe I could see Sonny and try and have a real conversation with him again.
Maybe, when I saw him, this time, I wouldn’t run from him, whether literally or emotionally. Maybe I’d finally have the courage to overcome my past and insecurities and get something special.
Maybe I could stop the chase of the bad and settle for the presence of the good.
