here. Am I leading her on? Am I letting her believe
in something that isn’t really there?
Then I see her joking around with my brothers
and complimenting my mom for the beautiful
curtains. She seems comfortable, at peace, almost
happy. And my heart closes up in one bite,
obstructing my breathing once again.
What am I doing?
“Hey, everything alright, son?” Carl asks me,
coming close. “She’s a really nice girl, Patrick.”
I nod and give him my best fake smile.
“I’d like to see her again,” he adds and with
that, I find the courage to meet his glance. “Don’t
fuck this up, please,” he adds because he knows
me. I’m anything but a model of integrity, even if
my mother obstinately sees something in me that
isn’t there.
Because this is who I am, who I’ve always
been. I was born like this. Unable to let anyone
into my heart and incapable of taking care of
someone else. Unable to feel anything like a
sincere and true emotion that goes beyond my own
physical needs.
I am a man with a stone heart that could only
smash and destroy a girl like her, who is so sweet
and in need of love.
A love that I’ll never be able to give her.
And when she turns towards me, smiling and
grateful for this warmth of a family that I
unconsciously let her be a part of, I can feel myself
