Page 112 of Abundance of Obsession

“I can’t do that, and I don’t want to. Despite the years, we’re both still trapped in that house. It lives within us; it haunts us. Don’t tell me that’s not true. And there’s something I never told you—” His gaze meets mine. “I love you. No matter how much we talk about my mistakes and sins, nothing will change that. I love you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. That entire time… Every day was the same, blending into one colossal failure. Week after week, I didn’t sleep, afraid of what might happen. For both of us, I didn’t want her next suicide attempt to succeed. And there were several. I didn’t eat, didn’t drink, didn’t sleep. In a constant state of alert. I tried with all my might to keep your mother alive, but I failed in that as well. You and her, I let you both down.”

As he speaks, I stand before a glass wall, staring ahead with a blank gaze. The impact of his words on me, the inner return to those cursed days—that is what I don’t want to show him.

The flood of memories is too much. Once again, I feel like a child whom no one loves. Isn’t worthy of love… And then Zoe comes to mind.

It’s not true that I’m not worthy of love. It’s not true that I’m incapable of loving.

I’m a complete idiot!

If I were in his shoes, would I have done the same? No, definitely not. I would never in my life forget my son. But…

Now, at this point in my life, I’m able to understand the crazy love he had for my mom.

For weeks, she slipped little by little through his fingers until she freed herself from what was dragging her down.

“Why didn’t any of the medications work for her? Why couldn’t you save her?” I ask.

“I don’t know, Eli. No one knows. One treatment after another. We couldn’t do anything. Perhaps her will to die was too strong.”

I spin around and glare at him. “Are you telling me she chose death over her family? Over her own child?”

“Not at all. Your mom was ill. She wasn’t able to think clearly. Not because she didn’t want to—she couldn’t. She was so deep in it she saw only darkness. Only sadness and darkness. On her better days, she told me she didn’t want to be there, that it was just happening. She wanted it to end. She was never alone, but she was always lonely.”

“Maybe if back then, I’d—”

My father jumps up from the couch but doesn’t approach me. With sadness in his eyes, he understands what I’m trying to tell him. “No, Eli. There was nothing you could have done. This illness… It’s the pain of the soul. People sometimes say someone commits suicide because they see no other way out. But I think with depression, it’s so that the pain stops growing.”

I lower my eyes to the floor and sigh. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice my father slowly walking toward me, but I don’t have the strength to stop him.

“Know this, son: your mother loved you more than anything and anyone else. You were her universe and the best part of her. It was hard for her to see you in this state while she couldn’t do anything about it. She didn’t let you close to her not because she didn’t love you, but because she couldn’t love you the way you deserved.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as his arms pull me close and hold me tight. “Even though I made a mistake, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. You’re my son and I love you. Not like she did. Differently, in my way. But that’s the fact. And I’m so sorry for everything.”

My arms finally wrap around his trembling body of their own accord. I have a lump in my throat, and no words can pass through it.

For a brief moment, I’m a child, and he’s giving me what I dreamed of so many years ago. We stand like this for a minute, maybe two.

I clear my throat and say, “If you think I’ve already forgiven you, you’re deeply mistaken.”

My father steps away from me, and I get the impression he’s doing it reluctantly. “I know. Like I said, I don’t expect it. I don’t deserve it. Maybe someday. For now, I’d just like to be a part of your life, if you’ll let me.”

Seeing my indecision, he just shakes his head sadly. But then he gets a shot of new hope because he asks, “Maybe in a few days, we could meet up for coffee or something.”

“Or something,” I reply evasively with a weak smile.

Maybe we’ll patch things up someday. Time will tell.

A moment of silence falls, and things get awkward. For a moment, neither of us knows what else to say.

“So, have you started dating again?”

“Yeah. Liz is the first woman since your mom died who’s held my interest for over five minutes.”

“Are you in love?”

“I don’t know, honestly. We’re friends, and whether I still have enough heart left to love someone, we’ll see. Are you? In love, I mean.”

My gaze wanders to the hallway where the bedroom is. Behind its door, a woman lies in bed. Jet-black hair tousled on the pillow, pink lips parted…