and her little body shakes in indignation now, instead of sadness, I feel relieved. I’m glad I’ve pissed her off and launched her out of her melancholy. That, I could not help with; this, I could.
“We just established you wouldn’t like that.”
She nearly screeches at me. “You ass. You had no right. You are just as—”
“Tina,” I stand up and my voice is softer. Quiet. She’ll have to stop yelling to hear me. She does. “I called your dad because I didn’t want you upstairs, with some random guy. I could tell you I wanted to protect you, but that’s a lie. If I wanted to do that, I’d have come in there myself and taken on the prick. I wanted you to stop what you were doing. So I called him.”
She slides to her feet and shakes her head. “But why? I can’t understand why you would care so much. Is it really some archaic thing if I’m a girl? I mean, you can do it, but I can’t?”
“No. It’s because you’re the girl in question.”
“What does that even mean?”
I stare into her eyes. We are now eye-to-eye, and almost toe-to-toe. But not touching. The air thickens between us. “It means,” I say, my breath falling over her face, “I want more for you than I do for any other girl. Or even myself.”
She shakes her head. “You are such a coward. You think taking on guys who are older and bigger than you makes you brave, but it doesn’t. You’re really nothing but a coward. Say it! Say the real reason.” She whispers the last part. Her eyes close, and tears fall down her cheeks again. “Please, just say it.”
I am. I’m a coward. I can’t tell her what I really want because I don’t know how to be what people consider “normal.” I don’t know how to give her love. She deserves love. I might feel it, and even long to share it with her. I could probably tell her. But showing her how I feel? How? I can’t touch her. I can’t stand for her to touch me, as we just established, so how can I tell her the truth? My truth? It makes my heart hurt. Like someone is punching me. Why can’t I just say, “I want you. I care about you. I love you?” I want to so badly, and the selfish part of me whispers just do it. Make her settle for me. Make her deal with it… with me, as I am. But I also know the sex for her would be like I’ve already had it in the past. And I don’t want to do it like that with her. Mechanical. Cold. Using only the parts that need to have contact, and working to get off as quickly as possible. There is really nothing more than that with them.
I lie instead. “You are my family. I have to protect you. I won’t apologize for doing that. I’d do it for you and your sisters all over again, no matter how old any of you get.”
Her eyes pop open. I am hiding behind our collective family unit. I try to remove all the feelings and intimacy of us, Max and Christina, from my purpose. There is an “us” that no one fully comprehends, or how close we are. Only we know, despite how often we deny or downplay it. She bites her lip and shakes her head. “You’re a real prick sometimes.”
I am that too. I don’t argue. She turns from me and sits down again, this time on the chair to my desk. A place where she is safely away and not so close to me. I long for her closeness. I anticipate it. I want it. Yet when it gets too real, like it might actually happen, or it does happen, I hate it. I dread her proximity and want her far away from me. How can that be love?
I don’t understand it myself. How can I expect anyone else to?
I clear my throat, trying to dilute the weirdness that seems to have engulfed us. “So, this stuff with your parents. Shit. I’m sorry, Tina.”
She spins on the office chair and stares up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe it. All those stupid times I was mad at her for being so moody, or kinda checking out on all of us. I thought… well, I don’t know what I thought. I mean, I think I thought it was like depression or something. But
“We just established you wouldn’t like that.”
She nearly screeches at me. “You ass. You had no right. You are just as—”
“Tina,” I stand up and my voice is softer. Quiet. She’ll have to stop yelling to hear me. She does. “I called your dad because I didn’t want you upstairs, with some random guy. I could tell you I wanted to protect you, but that’s a lie. If I wanted to do that, I’d have come in there myself and taken on the prick. I wanted you to stop what you were doing. So I called him.”
She slides to her feet and shakes her head. “But why? I can’t understand why you would care so much. Is it really some archaic thing if I’m a girl? I mean, you can do it, but I can’t?”
“No. It’s because you’re the girl in question.”
“What does that even mean?”
I stare into her eyes. We are now eye-to-eye, and almost toe-to-toe. But not touching. The air thickens between us. “It means,” I say, my breath falling over her face, “I want more for you than I do for any other girl. Or even myself.”
She shakes her head. “You are such a coward. You think taking on guys who are older and bigger than you makes you brave, but it doesn’t. You’re really nothing but a coward. Say it! Say the real reason.” She whispers the last part. Her eyes close, and tears fall down her cheeks again. “Please, just say it.”
I am. I’m a coward. I can’t tell her what I really want because I don’t know how to be what people consider “normal.” I don’t know how to give her love. She deserves love. I might feel it, and even long to share it with her. I could probably tell her. But showing her how I feel? How? I can’t touch her. I can’t stand for her to touch me, as we just established, so how can I tell her the truth? My truth? It makes my heart hurt. Like someone is punching me. Why can’t I just say, “I want you. I care about you. I love you?” I want to so badly, and the selfish part of me whispers just do it. Make her settle for me. Make her deal with it… with me, as I am. But I also know the sex for her would be like I’ve already had it in the past. And I don’t want to do it like that with her. Mechanical. Cold. Using only the parts that need to have contact, and working to get off as quickly as possible. There is really nothing more than that with them.
I lie instead. “You are my family. I have to protect you. I won’t apologize for doing that. I’d do it for you and your sisters all over again, no matter how old any of you get.”
Her eyes pop open. I am hiding behind our collective family unit. I try to remove all the feelings and intimacy of us, Max and Christina, from my purpose. There is an “us” that no one fully comprehends, or how close we are. Only we know, despite how often we deny or downplay it. She bites her lip and shakes her head. “You’re a real prick sometimes.”
I am that too. I don’t argue. She turns from me and sits down again, this time on the chair to my desk. A place where she is safely away and not so close to me. I long for her closeness. I anticipate it. I want it. Yet when it gets too real, like it might actually happen, or it does happen, I hate it. I dread her proximity and want her far away from me. How can that be love?
I don’t understand it myself. How can I expect anyone else to?
I clear my throat, trying to dilute the weirdness that seems to have engulfed us. “So, this stuff with your parents. Shit. I’m sorry, Tina.”
She spins on the office chair and stares up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe it. All those stupid times I was mad at her for being so moody, or kinda checking out on all of us. I thought… well, I don’t know what I thought. I mean, I think I thought it was like depression or something. But
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