I like to be in control of everything, including my conversations. All I could do while Zeke talked was listen and hate that I couldn’t touch him.
“We had a long conversation that ended up in a bitter tone. If I had my doubts that we were over, well, he made sure I understood.”
“How do you feel about it?”
I rub my legs a couple of times, wiping my clammy hands. “When he left my office, I felt defeated. The first question that popped into my head was, what’s the point of finding myself when he rejected me? I might as well live my life the way I’ve been doing it if I’m never going to be with him.”
Dante arches an eyebrow. “Is this why you’re doing it? For him and not yourself?”
I move my gaze to my hands as I analyze his questions. Then, when I look up at him I and sigh heavily. “That’s exactly what I asked myself as I was driving here. Then I remember when we told Zeke he should go to rehab for himself and no one else. I feel like the work we’ve been doing for almost eight months has been a waste. I haven’t focused on who matters the most, me. I need to take this seriously, or it’ll be useless.”
“So, you found a roadblock, but you also discovered a detour that might take you where you want to go.”
“Did I?” I frown.
“You finally figured out why you’re here. If you had cancer, why would you go through treatment?”
“To save myself,” I respond immediately.
“It’s about the same. You should be here for yourself. Everyone around you will benefit in the long run, but the idea is to be here for you. I’ll ask what I’ve been asking you since the first session. Why are you here?”
“To find me under the debris of lies and deceptions I’ve constructed since I left Texas,” I state. “I want to be truthful to myself, become someone I’m proud of and not a man I fabricated to please everyone around me.”
He nods.
“But Zeke…” I don’t finish the sentence. What can I say?
I guess we’re not meant to be together. The love I have for him isn’t the same I felt for him when we were teenagers. We’ve grown apart. If I don’t know him or myself, he doesn’t know me either. It’s over. I’m just attached to an idea—a dream.
We’re an idea of something magical that used to happened at midnight.
Now, we’re nothing.
“We’re over.” I pause and look at him. “Aren’t we?”
He shrugs. “You know the answer, but you don’t like it.”
“I don’t want to shove him in a box and forget about him,” I say out loud. “He’s important to me.”
“As I told you when we started these sessions, your first therapist didn’t explain to you what compartmentalizing means. Yes, you file things away in imaginary boxes. It’s a temporary fix while you start dealing with each individual problem. Think of it as a day at work. You don’t do everything on your to-do list at the same time. Instead, you prioritize and tend to them in order of importance. You don’t just file them away and forget them forever.”
“So, I file him away, and we’ll come to it when I’m ready.”
He nods. “It might be less of a problem and more of a memory you want to cherish.”
I want to tell him that he’s wrong. I don’t see Zeke as a problem at all. He’s the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t know him anymore, but I want to get to know who he is and for him to discover who I am because I can be a person worth loving. My therapist is right though, that’s a million steps ahead of where I am at today. First, I have to become the best version of myself. A man who I can be proud to be.
The following morning when I arrive at work, Hannah is waiting for me in my office.
“Should I be scared?”
She grins. “There’s this guy—”
“I’m not ready to date,” I interrupt her. “As I told you a couple of months ago when you wanted to introduce me to some philosophy professor, I’m working on myself first.”
She laughs, waves her hand as if to say that’s old news.
“There’s this guy in my advanced creative writing class who is studying journalism, and I’d like to offer him an internship,” she pauses, giving me that Hannah smirk that says, I’m enjoying making you squirm. “But I’m pleased to see that you’re sharing more about yourself and your dating life.”
“I don’t have a dating life.”
“In my personal opinion”—her voice turns serious as she straightens her posture—“you should start putting yourself out there. Live a little. I have a few friends that might be just right for you.”
“You keep wanting to introduce me to people,” I complain. “I’m not ready.”
“It was just one time, but you explained how you’re in a bad place,” she states, blinking a couple of times. “Until you’re ready, I won’t line up anyone outside your door. I’ll wait for your signal.”
Sit down because it might never happen, I don’t say.
I shake my head and start reading the essay that’s inside the folder. “I like his voice. How old is he?”
“Twenty-three. He started school at almost twenty. He went backpacking through Asia and Europe. His father is Japanese, his mother is Peruvian,” she continues. “He thinks on another level. He’s an old soul. He could be a good addition to this place.”
“You should hire him or offer him the internship,” I encourage her, then ask, “Are you and Alex setting a wedding date now that Zeke is back?”
She shakes her head. “I need Rocco with me too.”
The problem is that I don’t want him back in our lives.
I love him like a brother. He is, in fact, the brother who I never want to see again. The biggest asshole in the family. He’s so fucking annoying that I want him to stay away from all of us, mainly Zeke. Listen, I get it. He had a hard childhood. However, he’s too old to use that as an excuse to go through life using others.
I don’t think anyone sees him the way I do. I’m all for helping him, but has anyone ever realized that he has never done anything for us—or himself? He takes and takes and takes away. I’m not asking him to give anything to me, but can he care about anyone else? At least himself?
“I know you and he have never gotten along,” she states. “Is there a reason?”
“The guy lives in his own reality. I have a hard time understanding him or justifying why he behaves the way he does,” I explain to her. “At this point, I’d rather avoid him.”
“But Z and you are okay?”
Well, that’s a loaded question. This is a great example of how we, as humans, see what we want to see. We believe what our hearts want to believe. Hannah has ignored the few signs that could’ve told her the real story. She wanted this little family to remain in one piece since everything else around her was crumbling.
“Zeke and I had a big falling out a few years back. We pretend that we get along, but we don’t talk to each other unless we have to.”
Her brows knit together. “I had no idea.”