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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Thomas
Thomas,
First, Iwant to thank you for giving me the space Ineed.
I’mnot okay just yet, and Ineed alittle more time.
Since we have alittle over amonth until the end of the semester, would it be possible to switch from in-person meetings to emails?
That way I’ll fulfill my obligations to the best of my abilities.
Ipromise to reach out again once my thoughts are in order.
Erin
When thenotification of anew email from Erin flashed on my phone, Iknew it couldn’tbe good. After months of dating, you didn’tcommunicate through emails, not for personal issues.
And Iwas right. It wasn’tgood. Not bad either.
It was fucking heartbreaking.
Iaccepted her request for time off. Totally legitimate, considering everything.
The indifference of it, same as my parents showed me, chilled the blood in my veins. Had she called me an aggressive piece of shit, thrown avase at me, punched me, Imight have actually been content about the whole thing.
But this, this bright yellowstay awaysign with its emptiness, it felt like winter hadn’tleft.
The loneliness, the disappointment, the dealing with rejection from the one person Itruly loved and cherished, it all crashed on me at once. Unlike my parents, though, with Erin Ihad it coming. Ilost control of the rage Ihad locked down. Igave arandom person the keys to the safe where Ihid my hurt, my pain, my unresolved issues and it blew up like astorm.
There were so many paths to choose when Ilooked back at last night. Many exit points between the first punch and the final. Icouldn’tundo what Idid, and instead Ioffered Oliver money to pay off my mistake, to foot the hospital bill and then some. He declined.
The damage Icaused Erin, Icouldn’tfix that with money. Isaw it in her eyes, how her fragile porcelain heart had smashed to the ground. Any violence, especially by aman who promised to love her, triggered her, cut her open, and Ihad zero excuses for doing it to her.
This morning Ibattled against the urge to go to Laura’shouse and get her, smother her with kisses, apologize profusely, and beg on my knees if Ihad to, for her to come home with me, had she only given me asign.
Then this email.
With asinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, Iput the phone on silent, left it on the coffee table, and trudged upstairs to paint, to escape.
Erin, my savior in more ways than one, stared at me from the painting she made of us in my home studio. Icraved to be held by her again, to bask in her warmth, and it wrecked me that Icouldn’t.
Faced with two choices, either take it off the wall or take my painting gear to another room, Ichose the latter. Even if it tore me apart to see her every day without having her here with me in person, the painting had to stay. Iglided my hand just above where her cheek was, careful not to smudge the charcoal, and took my painting gear to the other bedroom.
Hours passed as Iabsorbed myself in my work, standing in my makeshift studio and painting my heart out. The morning turned to afternoon, and the afternoon turned to night as Ipainted.
It took the third canvas and the light of the day disappearing for me to take astep back and analyze what Ihad painted.
The beginning of my story.
The ease with which it came out from under my fingers astounded me. Iadmired it through weary eyes, not fearing it. Nothing could scare me anymore once the thought of losing Erin hung over my head. It just was.
Ileft it for the day and returned to the living room, unlocked my phone, yet there were no messages from Erin, only from Zach. Icouldn’tbring myself to text and Ineeded the company, so Iasked him to come over. He agreed immediately and Icrashed on the couch, relieved not to drown alone in my woes.
I’dnever before realized the comforts of having another person around. Zach grew on me, my clients interested me, but Ididn’trely on them for my happiness. Ididn’treach out when life got tough.
Then Erin entered my world and embedded her smiles, laughter, and joy in every corner of my home. Without her presence, asense of emptiness plagued me, draining the life from the place.
