I wave to Wes one last time as he climbs out of my car and closes the door. The sidewalk outside has people lingering, coming and going from classes, it makes me long for school, having readings and assignments to fill my time with. I linger in my car, a tic rippling through Wes as he walks away from me and toward Mack.
She bounds up to him, a smile spread across her face, her dark hair blowing in the wind. It's easy to see the connection they have, the way they look at one another. How Wes can't help but smile when her name is said, and when she looks at him. I watched it all the night we went out to the bar. The affection between the two, skirting around their desires, waiting for the other to make the move. But at the same time how easily they brushed up against one another, standing close, having moments of quiet intimacy right there in the middle of a crowded bar.
Mack tucks herself under Wes' arm, looking up at him as they start toward the building together. Wes looks calm and relaxed with his arm around her, his profile smiling at her.
I want to be able to love just as openly as everyone else. And the fact that I haven't been able to let myself haunts me. I don't want to go my whole life miserable, trying to hide parts of myself from everyone else. I want to have the freedom and the joy that most everyone else seems to have.
A car horn blares behind me, sending my heart hurtling and my hands scrambling for the shifter. I tell myself that I'm fine, they aren't mind readers, but even if they were it wouldn't matter. It's not a bad thing to be gay. That millions of people are living out and proud and the world isn't as archaic as I've known it to be.
I pull out of the campus parking lot feeling rattled and exposed and start the journey of weaving my way back through the city.
I still need socks.
I've already planned to not go to Target, not because I don't want to see James but because I don't want to see James with Dom.
It takes twenty minutes of stop and go traffic before I'm pulling into a new parking lot, dark clouds in the distance as a storm makes its way toward us. I find a spot that's not too far out, a cart corral beside it and pull in. A sigh blows from my lungs as I turn my car off and lean back into the chair, my nerves settled on the drive over.
Does everyone else live with this much fear? Or is it just me? Gerry comes to mind. I've never asked him too many personal questions, allowing everything to be at face value. But was he scared? Do the pros outweigh his fear? Was it worth it?
My curiosity surges, not that I think I'll ever ask him these questions, rather he'd have to give the answers up on his own but it's enough to make me pull out my phone and send him a text.
Me: drink tonight?
His response comes instantly scattered across a few messages and he names a bar. I wouldn't say I'm looking forward to it, but maybe Gerry will spill some insight that I just can't conjure up. And at the very least, maybe he'll leave me alone for a minute. Clutching my phone and keys in my hand, I reach for the door handle, the air growing stale in my car as it sits in the retreating sun. My eyes lift to movement, people passing by and instantly my body freezes. My thoughts halted in fear as my eyes meet my mom's. She's beside my dad, he's looking straight ahead, keys clutched in his hand probably searching for their car. My mom pushes a cart full of grocery bags, looking very much the same as she swims in a faded cardigan.
All the air has left my lungs as I sit rigid in my car. Frozen in fear but just behind that is shame. Shame that floods my entire body, old memories, that I wish I could say had faded with time but they haven't, fill my mind as I stare through the window in shock. Without words even passing between us I feel rejected and disgusting.
But then the moments over, she passes by, my dad never even realizing that I'm right here. I'm so close to him, the son that he so easily tossed aside. I'm right here. I watch her back as she makes her way down the aisle, eventually they both disappear behind other cars but I can't tear my eyes away.
What if she tells him? What if he comes to see for himself? Or what if she tells him and he can't be bothered? What if I'm still just a disgusting speck on their otherwise neat and tidy little life?
Why do I care so much?
I know the simple answer is because they're my parents. But I also know there's tons of people who don't care what their parents think or believe or want. Why can't I just not care? My life would be so much easier.
It's cold, the feeling of loneliness that seeps through my body as the dark storm clouds start to roll in. They steal all the warmth of the sun, gloomy and depressing just like my thoughts. Thoughts that drift through all my memories, my childhood ones before I knew that I wasn't normal, my preteen memories where I almost couldn't breathe when I was in the same room with Wes and my teenage memories where I fell in love with James. They all lead up to that moment sitting at the dining room table poking my food around nervously just for it to end. Simple as that. Two words and I no longer had a family or parents or a home. Two stupid, simple, harmless words.
I can't help but sit in my car, dissecting and mulling over every detail, every memory of my life, looking for anything, something, to help make this all easier.
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What's this? A double update? Why yes. Because this story is finished on my end and why the hell not.
