Sometimes someone kicks you in the guts even though you’re already on the ground. Slowly, the sheet floats down. So slowly that I’m on my knees before it lands. It was already a low blow when David stood in the club at 10 p.m., gave me the envelope, and then left without a word. The letter is worse.
Hey Lou,
The nickname alone is enough to fill my eyes with tears. My vision blurs andI take a deep breath to calm myself down a little.
Hey Lou,
I’m sorry I’m writing to you. I’ll keep it short, okay? You don’t have to read it if you don’t feel like it.
Ever since I first saw you, I’ve seen my future with you by my side. Always your hand in mine, always your lips on mine, always your smile. And I’ve always hoped that one day I’d be strong enough to go to my father, despite all the consequences, and tell him who I am and who you are to me. Who I’ve loved since I understood what love means.
But I’m not. I’m a coward, I’m scared shitless, and there are moments when I don’t even know what I’m scared of. But I can’t do anything about it, I’m paralyzed.
I don’t deserve you. I can understand why you left, and it was the right decision, even though it tears me to pieces. I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it right this time. I wanted to, so badly.
You won’t see me again, but I wish with all my heart that you find the love of your life. Someone who does better than me, someone who loves you more than anything, who looks at you like you hung the moon, someone who hangs on your every word when you speak, just so they don’t miss a thing. Someone who walks through the city holding your hand, who kisses you in the middle of the market square as if there were no tomorrow. Someone who makes you happy.
I’m sorry that I can’t be that someone for you. So very sorry.
I love you,
David
I think Iscreamed, I’m still screaming. Paul’s voice calls my name from somewhere far away. For a week I pulled myself together, for a week I managed to convince myself that it was the right decision to leave, for a week I functioned. Not anymore. All the dams are breaking with a force threatening to drown me.
“Hey, shit, you have to breathe. Take a deep breath.” I feel Paul’s hand drawing small circles on my back.
Why should I breathe? I could suffocate right here and now, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so fucking much then. David is letting me go, forever. He’s setting me free. But I don’t want him to let me go, I want him to fight for me, for us. For what has been between us for eight years and just won’t go away. You can’t set someone free who doesn’t want to be set free. Bullshit. My whole body is shaking as Paul pulls me up off the floor and lies down with me on the bed.
***
I hear voices. Soft whispers from the kitchen. Why the hell do we have visitors? I don’t want to see anyone, I don’t want to talk to anyone, I want...
Shit, my bedroom door creaks and light finds its way through the small crack. The door closes again, and I hear footsteps coming toward my bed.
“Hey, Lou.”
Tears well up in my eyes again. “Can you please not call me that?”
“But I’ve always called you that.” Jannis’s deep voice vibrates in the room.
“I know, but so does he.”
Silence. The mattress dips in next to me and a large handfinds my shoulder. Fuck, why is everyone in this family so damn tall and I’m so damn short? “I’m so sorry, Louis. This is all my fault. I was so sure he’d go through with it this time. I don’t get it, he loves you, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he loves me.” And that actually makes it even worse. I know how much David loves me, I don’t question that, but he’s so damn scared of his father. Ever since I’ve known David, he’s been trying everything to impress this man. Top performance in handball, good grades in school, all that for a little attention. For a nod of approval. Love was and is always unconditional in our home. For each of us. Not for David. Always being strong, always being perfect, always living up to the image his father wants to see in him. Attention and recognition in exchange for performance and conformity.
“So what’s his problem?” Exactly that, but I can’t say that to Jannis, can I? I turn around and look at my brother.
“If you really screwed up, how would Papa and Paps react?”
Jannis raises his eyebrows questioningly. “Really? You’re asking me that? I’m by far the least difficult of the three of us. I have no idea. Ask Luca.”
“Hey! That’s unfair!” comes from the corner next to the door. Ah, Luca is here too, and I have to smile. My first smile in a week, and I love my brothers for it.
“Luca, how would Papa and Paps react?”
“Papa would close his eyes for a moment, take a deep breath, and then say something like, ‘Can you think BEFORE you smear shaving cream all over your teacher’s car next time? A new paint job is really expensive, and he doesn’t deserve that.’ Paps would run around in circles, ranting frantically and loudly, muttering ‘Don’t panic. We’ll figure it out. We’ll find a solution.’ Then they would hug me and tell me that they love me and that I shouldn’t worry.”
