“Like ways.”
I snorted. “I doubt it.”
“Why?” He asked with furrowed brows. “My daughter died.”
Sometimes I forgot. Since I hadn’t been working on The House of Nova Ray, I forgot more often. He suffered an immeasurable loss. Of course, he felt like ways. Of course, he felt like giving up.
“Sorr—
“Nothing for you to be sorry about,” he interrupted. “I’m listening to the song and I’m wondering… thinking… about you. Why did you get it? Why do you like it?”
I snatched my leg out of his lap and turned over on my back, eyes to the ceiling. “I need to get home?—“
“I was like you. Like…this. Dodging questions and shit. Running away from the truth. Hated when muthafuckas asked me how I was doing. Shit like that. You know what that do to a person? Long term?”
I turned my head to look over at him. “No, Crescent. I don’t know,” I annoyingly responded, completely uninterested in where the conversation was headed.
I told him I didn’t know what it did to a person, but I did. I knew very well. It created a façade. Made it hard to be you. Made it hard to be authentic. To live in your truth. Wearing masks, pretending everything was okay when they weren’t did more harm than good. It made you into a machine. It made you a fraud. Invalidated you. More than that, it hurt. It hurt a lot. Stuffing your feelings down… it hurt more every time. It made me feel as though my feelings were insignificant. Fucked up the trust I had with myself too.
I wondered if that’s what it did to him.
“It turns you into an emotionless piece of… meat,” Crescent said.
I didn’t expect that. That wasn’t what it did to me. It made me emotional. Made me feel everything…but express nothing. I guess that was kind of the same, huh?
“You feel,” I told him, turning over on my side, propping up on my elbow. “It’s impossible to be emotionless.”
He thought for a second and turned his mouth down into a grimace, agreeing with me.
“I guess you right. Shit turns you into a machine though. People think you can handle every fuckin’ thing because you wear shit so well. So, you carry the bulk of everything. And you do it with a smile and a head nod because shit, what else are you going to do? But on some real shit, you sufferin. Drowning for real. Just can’t express it because everybody used to you carrying the heavy shit. With ease. At least that’s what they think.”
He described me to a t. That’s what it was like. Next to momma, I was the matriarchy of the family. Daddy was daddy—the strong male. But I was the strong woman. Shit, sometimes I felt like they thought I was stronger than momma. They calledme for everything. Looked to me for advice. Wanted me to hold their hands and help them with this and that. That’s how it was, at least. Before I broke. Before they started to see that I wasn’t as strong as they thought. My sisters.
“Yeah,” was all I could say before I turned back over on my back. My eyes centered on the ceiling. The circled light fixture hanging from the ceiling was huge. Massive. The geometrical shapes surrounding it was beautiful.
I kept my eyes on the ceiling because he wanted me to talk about what he could see. It was crazy… him noticing something without knowing a damn thing.
He was quiet, just staring at me. Studying me while I studied the ceiling. Well… me staring… it wasn’t because I was held captive by the design. I was ruminating. Mentioning W.A.Y.S. did it for me. I thought about life without W.A.Y.S. About a life without Duke in it. Thought about what it would have been had I not had a crush on him all of those years ago. Thought about my babies. They wouldn’t exist. Wondered if that would have been so bad. Felt guilty about thinking that. I mean… if I hadn’t met him… if they hadn’t been born, they wouldn’t be subjected to the heart break they were going to experience behind Diary. They would be safe. Wouldn’t have to see the ugliness of mommy and daddy’s marriage. Would be free of the turmoil that ripping the marriage a part would bring. Shit like that… it fucks a kid up.
So, no. It wouldn’t have been bad if they didn’t exist. I sighed. Gulped. Fought back tears. But then I wouldn’t have the memories. Wouldn’t feel that immeasurable amount of love they pour into me every single day. My kids… they meant the absolute most to me. Hated how?—
The feeling of Crescent brushing his thumb across my cheek, catching a tear I didn’t know had fallen, snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned my head to face him.
Pulled my lips into my mouth.
Fought a battle I lost with tears that rushed through my ducts. Vengefully.
The pain in my chest doubled.
I should have left a long time ago.
“I’m not.”
“You’re not what?” He asked, steady catching tears.
“Okay.”
“I know,” Crescent said before grabbing me and laying me on top of him. He wrapped his arms around my body, pressed his lips against my forehead, and held me while I violently cried.
