I nod and do what I do best, giving him space. Traffic is a nightmare, but we finally get to the range and I rent a lane for an hour. I already know his preferred bat and grab him a helmet as I hand them to him. He steps in the cage and hits balls.
I wish I was more like Aiden. He called for help when he needed it, and this is the place he can get his emotions out.
Mine are bottled up and festering to the point of explosion. It’s only a matter of time before I explode with no outlet. Suffering alone has always seemed simpler than depending on the shoulders of others.
Aiden hits the balls, the chime of the bat hitting the ball a small comfort. He doesn’t talk, he doesn’t smile, he just swings and hits the shit out of each ball.
Eventually he tires out, a sheen of sweat covering his skin as he hits the button to turn off the machine and steps out of the cage.
“Better?” I ask.
“Yeah, can I stay at yours tonight?” he asks.
Aiden doesn’t ask much of me, ever. He doesn’t hold me accountable for my shitty words, judge me for my moods. Whatever he needs at this moment, it’s his.
“Yeah, man. Chinese sound good?”
He nods his head, and we stop at his house to collect some of his things. His large house where only he lives. While Aiden might smile, be kinder than me, I wonder if he feels just as lonely as I do.
Maybe we can help navigate this time of our lives together. I’ll just have to work on communicating, which sounds revolting, but I need a change.
10
WHAT I GOT
He doesn’t requestme again.
I’m at my desk feeling desperate and unnervingly pathetic as I look at my phone repeatedly to see if I get a notification.
There’s still a deep ache and tenderness in my thighs from nights ago. It was memorable for me and still lingering, but it wasn’t for him.
I’m really trying and failing to not be in my feelings about it.
Work keeps me busy as I monitor things for Aiden and do menial tasks. Maybe I should look through the profiles again and see if there’s someone else who interests me, or maybe this is a sign that I shouldn’t be doing this.
Seeking validation from some random man who made me come super hard is truly a new low. Daydreaming and worrying about what he thinks about me shouldn’t even be on my radar. Why did I think I could handle this?
My work email chimes, it’s from Zach Kemper. His father has passed.
The office goes quiet. I can hear Sharon and Ed softly crying, and I have to wipe a tear from my face. Even though I haven’tworked here as long as the others, he’s had an impact on everyone in this office.
I text Aiden to make sure he’s okay.
I’m so sorry, Aiden. Let me know if you need anything.
Aiden
Can you send everyone home early and just check in on my email?
Of course.
I write up an email and send it to everyone in the office, telling them to take the day and that funeral information will be sent out as soon as we have the details. Everyone is downtrodden and sad as they leave. I stay at the office and wonder what that type of loss feels like.
I do everything I can to make Aiden’s life easier before I head home.
There’s still no notification and my fragile ego has a hard time dealing with the rejection as I sit on the couch of my empty apartment.
Nothing like someone’s death makes you introspect on your own life. If I left this world tomorrow, what would I leave behind? Who would I leave behind? The thought just makes me sadder when I realize only a handful of people would care, and my imprint on the world is barely even a speck of dust.
