Is that cruel? In doing so, am I actually acting as the truest version of myself by so selfishly keeping him bound to me through deception?
My head hurts. Debating the morality of wanting Rowan is making my brain explode.
And wanting him isn’t the only issue. It’s the amount in which I do, and the pain and fear that follow it.
Why does wanting him feel like the first right thing I’ve ever done, and simultaneously the only thing I’ve ever feared doing?
Like standing at the edge of a building, I teeter between the safety of what's behind me: Rowan’s arms wrapped so tightly around my body—and the terror of what’s below: the inevitability of losing him.
I am so new to this game, to the way of emotion, that I’m unsure if this is how I’m supposed to react or deal with my feelings. And who do I ask? Do I go back to therapy?
As if there is a force of nature looking over my shoulder, here to help whenever it can, my phone rings from beside me. Carrie, my sister.
She will do.
“Hello?” I answer, and Carrie’s voice rings loudly through the receiver.
“Eli, I need to rant,” she immediately rushes.
I laugh at her drained voice and her barely repressed groan. “Perfect, because I do too.”
“Great! Me first. So, I was just at Mom and Dad’s house, and Jess came by.”
“Oh lord,” I sigh.
“Shh, just listen. Anyway, I was there to get some of my winter coats, and she started asking me about work at the school, and I…”
I listen to my sister drone on and on about the meaningless fight her and our eldest sister got into. One that can only be possible through the heightening of useless emotions I do not possess.
“Have you considered not giving a fuck? Like, she pissed you off, but that just means you’re giving her the power to control your emotions,” I advise after a good amount of complaining.
Carrie is quiet for a moment, and I can hear it when she hums softly in apprehension.“Yes, that’s true. Okay, Eli. You’re right, thank you. You always have such a level head, I wish I were detached or whatever.”
“Wow. Thanks, asshole.” I roll my eyes, and if I could feel it, I’d be offended. I think.
Carrie just laughs in response, then says, “Well, what is it that you needed to rant about? I’m all ears.”
Clearing my throat, I take a moment to figure outhowto tell her. I’m kind of nervous, or as nervous as I can be, to show her such a new side of myself.
“I slept with this guy last night,” I start, and she gasps.
“You’re not a virgin?!”
“You’re not funny. Shut up and listen.” With another laugh, Carrie falls silent. “But the thing about this guy is… the moment I first saw him, I felt.”
“Felt…?”
“No, Carrie, Ifelt. Like, overwhelming emotion. Good and bad and lustful and so much that I wanted to sob.”
“Oh my god,” she whispers, and I can hear the shock in her voice.
“I know. And I saw him a few more times before last night, and it never went away. I… I’m not sure why I feel like this, or what it means. But then last night—fuck, Carrie. I cried the whole time.”
“What?!"she shouts."You didn’t even cry when our dog died! Or when you lost your virginity!”
“I know!” I groan, falling onto my back on the small couch. “I know. But I just… I felt himeverywhere, and he kept saying such sweet things to me. He cried, too, by the way. We both cried so much. And even now, I want to see him again so badly.”
Carrie is quiet for another moment, and I stare at the ceiling while I let her process. Her baby brother, who has always beenemotionless and detached, just told her he cried like a baby over some man, so she’s probably very confused.
