NOVEMBER 12, 2017
IT WAS FUNNY HOW TIME could smooth the edges of a broken relationship. Our brain had this way of taking the bad that happened and dulling it, as if there were never any sharp angles jabbing at our insides.
That thought came to me as I spotted Silas through the window of the yoga studio I was getting ready to leave. He was peering in, hands cupped around his face, scanning for what, I didn’t know.
It had been so long since I’d last seen him in person I’d almost forgotten the dimples on the sides of his face. Almost forgot I was still angry with him.
When his eyes stopped on mine, he pulled back, but didn’t leave.
“Yoga?” he said when I stepped out the front door a few moments later. Thick, heavy clouds hung over us, a brisk fall breeze moving us forward. I liked the chill November brought. Rain seemed to linger in the air.
“It clears my head,” I said as I zipped my jacket shut.
His hands slid into the pockets of his coat. “I heard you were coming here. Thought I’d stop by.”
My eyebrows pulled together as I stepped around a young woman walking her dog. “You’re here for me?”
He nodded.
A hot, prickly feeling filled my stomach. “Why?”
He shrugged, seeming uneasy.
He fell in step beside me, but it didn’t feel like old times. There was a toxicity lingering between us. One step too close in the wrong direction and we’d get burned.
“I saw that last piece you worked on with Pierre. Wow.” His tone was hesitant.
I clutched the strap to my bag closer to my chest. “Thanks.”
“You… uh… want to maybe grab a bite to eat and catch up?”
I stopped and studied him. Was that a trick question? A joke?
He chuckled nervously, eyes shifting. “I just want to talk, Hartley. Nothing serious.”
I wasn’t sure why I agreed. Maybe out of curiosity? Because I was a glutton for punishment?
We picked a food truck a block away from the studio, and then sat at a picnic table, staring across from one another. For the first few minutes, we didn’t speak. Just ate, watching each other cautiously, waiting, I thought, for the other to go first.
If he thought I was stubborn before, wait until he sees me now.
When his tacos were gone, he finally asked, “How are you?”
“Great,” I lied. “My offers are bigger than ever. I have a beautiful apartment. Wonderful friends. I even met a guy who wants to date me.”
Why? Why did we feel the need to lie about our lives in the presence of others? Why did we need to make our lives seem bigger and better than they were to compensate for the insecurities? It was the disease of humanity. Of social media. Because, truthfully, we were all floating in the same boat of misery and confusion, trying to steer ourselves through life.
But I didn’t want him to know that. He’d already taken so much from me… I couldn’t’ give him my dignity.
“That’s wonderful,” Silas said, though I didn’t think he believed me.
“How about you?” I asked, shifting the weight onto him.
“I’m okay. I haven’t had the luster for filming lately. Been kind of down.”
I felt like an asshole. A miserable, lying asshole. I wanted to feel justified in my anger toward him, but the weaker parts of me couldn’t.
“Why?”
He shrugged, the movement sad. “Karma, maybe?”
I didn’t disagree with that one. I was still trying to figure him out. Trying to sniff out his motive. If he came asking for forgiveness, he was asking the wrong person. I didn’t forgive. I collected pieces of others’ mistakes like artwork. Kept them in a gallery I could visit from time to time in my mind. A place where I was safe, because I had figured them out, and then cut them from my life.
“I was wrong, Hartley,” he said a moment later.
I found the perfect wall for this piece of art to go. I’d label it: a little too late.
I didn’t say anything. Just stared at him, knowing I was making him uncomfortable, but not caring. He would feel every inch of what he did, and then I would leave satisfied, clinging to the words I forgive you as my trophy.
“I had no business coming between you and Hudson. I see that now. I know what you and I had was nothing more than friendship. I was forcing the idea to be with me on you. I should have stepped down when he came back, but what I had with him was already so fragile… I didn’t want another reason to resent him.”
“Why did you resent him?” I asked, leaning forward on my elbows. I was a lioness ready to pounce. “Because he took care of you? Because he put his dreams on hold, so you could figure out yours?” I paused, a finger to my mouth in snide thought. “Oh, wait… it was because he was angry with you for wanting to chase your crazy, piece-of-shit father down into the woods when it was time for you to put your grown-up pants on and face the real world.
“You know what, Silas? I’ve had a lot of time to think since you put a wedge between us, and what I’ve come to realize is that you’re as selfish as your father. The world is supposed to stop and start when you decide. You have a spoiled mentality, still waiting for your big brother to bail you out. But what about him? Have you ever stopped and thought about his happiness? Have you ever thought about how quickly he’s sidelined his life, his emotions, so he could take care of yours? Just like everyone in your life has to?”
I stood up and grabbed my bag.
“I don’t know what you came here for, but if it’s forgiveness you’re seeking, you’re asking the wrong woman. I don’t blame me losing Hudson on you. I lost him on my own, when I ran from the first love I’d ever felt. I will carry that with me until my last breath. But I do blame you for ruining what you and I had. You were my best friend, and you threw it all away because you couldn’t put anyone else’s happiness above your own. Maybe Hudson and I could have worked it out. Maybe you could have seen that I was better off with him. We’ll never know. He’s moved on, and it’s time I did.” I leaned close to him. “From both of you. Have a nice life.”
He didn’t call after me when I turned and left. As I hung the painting I’d created in my mind of that last look in his eyes. Pain so sharp I wanted to cut myself with it, so I could bleed out this anger eating me alive. I stopped at the crosswalk and stared down at my shadow, glaring at me, my secrets and lies swirling in its inky darkness.
“Shut up,” I said to it, and then I crossed the street.