she’d have beer with me during dinner and movies. Occasionally she’d have something stronger. But she didn’t like feeling out of control. It was rare that she would allow herself to get anywhere past slightly buzzed. She wasn’t an alcoholic.
Was she?
Had I damaged her that badly? I couldn’t stand the thought. If I’d ever believed that me leaving would crush her so deeply that she’d hide herself in a bottle I’d have stayed. No matter what eventually happened, I’d have stayed and made sure that she knew all the way to the end that I loved her. Regardless of how little she loved me by that point.
If she was that far gone, was I making a mistake going to find her? Panic set in as I wondered if maybe she’d be better off if I just left her alone. Perhaps seeing me would only make her situation worse. She might go further off the edge that Colby swore she was standing on. I didn’t want to be the reason that Avery lost herself. I didn’t want to be what clouded her world.
“I didn’t….” I couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t get them to come out. A lump had formed in my throat, making me strain to breathe and unable to talk. Tears were forming in my eyes and I’d be damned if Colby would see me cry. She didn’t need any more ammunition against me. “I’m going to nap while I can.” I managed to get the words out and closed my eyes.
I was lying. I knew that. I was pretty sure that Colby knew that. It was a lie to avoid the situation. I needed to not hear any more of what she had to say. I needed to hide and avoid reality, even if it was just for a moment.
I needed to think. My fear was taking over. I wanted to leave. To run home. I wanted to avoid making the situation any worse. I was doing nothing but hurting her and I didn’t want to do it anymore. But I knew I needed her in my life. And that was what kept me there in that airport as her best friend told me of the damage I’d done in her life.
The irony was that I was turning her into everything I hated. I was making her become the person I despised the most. My mother.
That woman was the reason I was as fucked up as I was. She was the reason I couldn’t love the way I should be able to. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel it. It was that I didn’t understand it. I fucked it up. Because of her.
How does a man learn how to love and appreciate a woman when his own mother can’t stand him? No one understood what it was like to live with her constantly telling me how horrible I was. I didn’t give a fuck that she had a problem. I didn’t care that she wasn’t in control.
She’d spent what little time she’d chosen to be in my life telling me what a worthless and horrible person I was. She had meant it. She had believed it. How does a person get past that? Sure, I could tell myself not to let it get into my head. That she was wrong. That she was only trying to hurt me. Then someone else would do the same. Leave. Not like something about me and go. Most repeated words I’d heard since I was a child. It must be true, right?
She didn’t even regret it. She didn’t think she did anything wrong. She thought she was in the right.
She was a mother for God’s sake. She should have loved me regardless. Her love for me should have come above her own selfish desires. I shouldn’t have had to worry about whether or not I was good enough for the person that was supposed to love me unconditionally.
I shouldn’t have to hear the person that was supposed to be my shelter from the storm call me names and tell me she hated me. I shouldn’t have had to grow up believing that the words she spat at me in one of her rages were real. That I was who she said I was.
And I was the lucky one. I never felt it. The physical pain. Almost. But not quite. Kevin was the bearer of that burden. The hard part was deciding which of us took the worst part. Him, with the scars on his body; or me, with the
Was she?
Had I damaged her that badly? I couldn’t stand the thought. If I’d ever believed that me leaving would crush her so deeply that she’d hide herself in a bottle I’d have stayed. No matter what eventually happened, I’d have stayed and made sure that she knew all the way to the end that I loved her. Regardless of how little she loved me by that point.
If she was that far gone, was I making a mistake going to find her? Panic set in as I wondered if maybe she’d be better off if I just left her alone. Perhaps seeing me would only make her situation worse. She might go further off the edge that Colby swore she was standing on. I didn’t want to be the reason that Avery lost herself. I didn’t want to be what clouded her world.
“I didn’t….” I couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t get them to come out. A lump had formed in my throat, making me strain to breathe and unable to talk. Tears were forming in my eyes and I’d be damned if Colby would see me cry. She didn’t need any more ammunition against me. “I’m going to nap while I can.” I managed to get the words out and closed my eyes.
I was lying. I knew that. I was pretty sure that Colby knew that. It was a lie to avoid the situation. I needed to not hear any more of what she had to say. I needed to hide and avoid reality, even if it was just for a moment.
I needed to think. My fear was taking over. I wanted to leave. To run home. I wanted to avoid making the situation any worse. I was doing nothing but hurting her and I didn’t want to do it anymore. But I knew I needed her in my life. And that was what kept me there in that airport as her best friend told me of the damage I’d done in her life.
The irony was that I was turning her into everything I hated. I was making her become the person I despised the most. My mother.
That woman was the reason I was as fucked up as I was. She was the reason I couldn’t love the way I should be able to. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel it. It was that I didn’t understand it. I fucked it up. Because of her.
How does a man learn how to love and appreciate a woman when his own mother can’t stand him? No one understood what it was like to live with her constantly telling me how horrible I was. I didn’t give a fuck that she had a problem. I didn’t care that she wasn’t in control.
She’d spent what little time she’d chosen to be in my life telling me what a worthless and horrible person I was. She had meant it. She had believed it. How does a person get past that? Sure, I could tell myself not to let it get into my head. That she was wrong. That she was only trying to hurt me. Then someone else would do the same. Leave. Not like something about me and go. Most repeated words I’d heard since I was a child. It must be true, right?
She didn’t even regret it. She didn’t think she did anything wrong. She thought she was in the right.
She was a mother for God’s sake. She should have loved me regardless. Her love for me should have come above her own selfish desires. I shouldn’t have had to worry about whether or not I was good enough for the person that was supposed to love me unconditionally.
I shouldn’t have to hear the person that was supposed to be my shelter from the storm call me names and tell me she hated me. I shouldn’t have had to grow up believing that the words she spat at me in one of her rages were real. That I was who she said I was.
And I was the lucky one. I never felt it. The physical pain. Almost. But not quite. Kevin was the bearer of that burden. The hard part was deciding which of us took the worst part. Him, with the scars on his body; or me, with the
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