Once we’d ordered and the waitress had brought our drinks and salads, I sat there wondering if I was ever going to be able to fall completely in love with him. I could keep this charade up for quite a while, but the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. I knew the longer this lasted, the more it would hurt when I told him the truth. I simply didn’t have the heart to love him, but I couldn’t hurt him either. Of course, none of that mattered tonight anyway. This was the night of Micah’s Senior Prom and it was going to be perfect.
And it was. We danced to several songs, watched as two of his friends were crowned King and Queen, and took traditional prom photos.
After having a snack and a few more dances, we decided that it was time to leave. We found Micah’s friends to tell them all goodbye and headed out into the warm spring evening.
“This wind feels good on my face,” I told Micah. “With all those people dancing, it got so hot in there.” I was sure glad I’d worn flats and not heels. “Where to now?”
We were already to the car, where Micah leaned me up against the door. With a gleam in his eye he said, “I’ll tell you, but it’ll cost ya.”
I felt little flutterings in my stomach. “Really? Okay, what’s my fee?” We were both smiling.
Micah grabbed my other hand in his so that we were palm to palm and pressed himself further into me.
“It’s…” kiss “not…” kiss “much…” kiss. With that, he kissed me deeply, turning the flutterings into full-fledged butterflies. I found it so easy to kiss him, to love him, even though I wasn’t in love with him. Again, I felt bad for leading him on when I was dying inside for someone else.
Once the kiss was over I said, “Well?”
“I thought we’d go downtown and just walk around. We can find some cool spots to take pictures by the river. You know, just hang out together. How’s that sound?”
“That sounds really nice, Micah.”
It was only about 30 minutes before we both started to show signs of fatigue. The excitement of the day, not to mention all of the dancing, had taken its toll, and we were exhausted.
As we sat on a wooden bench looking over the water I said, “As much as I don’t want tonight to end, I’m getting very tired.”
Micah sighed. “Me too. I guess I’d better get you home so we can both get some sleep.”
Micah and I stayed together for the rest of my junior year, even as I continued to struggle with thoughts of Brendan.
Deep down I knew that I was using Micah to fight my fear of being alone, but the day-to-day relationship that we were building was important to me. I did love him, but Micah’s actions and words were a constant reminder that his feelings for me were much stronger than mine.
I also realized Micah was not maturing as quickly as I was. I blew it off at first; after all, girls naturally matured faster. It could have just been my brain looking for another excuse to focus on Brendan. I was already being so unfair to Micah that giving it my all was the least I could do.
I was by Micah’s side for his graduation party, where we had a great time, laughing with his family. When the party was over and the cleanup was finished, Micah and I went to his room to relax and watch some TV.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted,” I said with a sigh as I flopped down onto Micah’s bed.
“Yes, I am, too, but I can’t wait to spend my graduation money!”
I could understand how Micah felt. Getting his own money, and a lot of it, was something special for a teenager. Most of our friends had thought for months about how they would spend their graduation funds. Of course, if they were going to college, their parents usually made them save it. But Micah did not have any imminent plans, so his money was “meant to be spent” as he liked to say.
He sat on the bed next to me and leaned down for a kiss. “Thanks for all of your help today. I don’t think that I would have made it through the day without you.”
“Sure you would have,” I smiled. “It wouldn’t have been as much fun, but you would have survived.”
“Aren’t you just full of yourself this evening?” Micah shifted his weight on the bed so that we were side by side. “In all seriousness, I’m glad that you were able to come today. I love showing you off.” It had been a long time since I’d felt the warmth of a blush run through my cheeks. “Do you know how much I love you?”
Of all the questions that he could have asked me… what was I supposed to do now? I could have lied and acted like I didn’t know what was going on. Then again, I could – oh, who was I kidding? Either way I went about it, a lie was going to be involved. I knew he loved me but I still couldn’t bring myself to tell him the honest truth about the way I felt.
“Yes, Micah, I know, and I love you too. You’ve been so good to me since we started dating. I wasn’t sure that I would be okay, but you’ve made me believe in myself again. It’s been hard for me to come up with a way to thank you, but I think I’ve figured it out.”
Giving our relationship my all meant giving him all of me, I decided in that moment. Not that I didn’t understand what having sex outside marriage meant to my faith; I did. But after being with Brendan, even though we hadn’t slept together, I felt like I had already fallen from grace. If having sex with Micah was a sin, at least I was committing it for a good reason.
I rolled over on to my side and began to kiss him. It was only a matter of seconds before Micah was kissing me back. The excitement between us grew, and I was glad that his bedroom door was shut.
“Micah,” I whispered, “I want you to be my first. It’s how I want to thank you.”
With difficulty, he forced himself to stop kissing my neck to ask, “Are you sure?”
Rather than respond with words, I let my fingers to do the talking. I unbuttoned his shirt while his lips returned to mine with fervor, and we allowed the passion to take over.
Suddenly I didn’t have any more questions. There was just the two of us. There was just me, giving a priceless gift to the man who loved me above all others.
As Micah and I lay unclothed on his bed in each other’s arms later, I tried to reconcile the thoughts that had led to my decision. It wasn’t that I regretted it--I didn’t in the least--but I also thought about my true motives. I told myself that I was doing it for Micah, to give him something that I had never given to Brendan.
Was that really it, though? Was that the true reason? What if I had made that choice to spite Brendan? To make him jealous somehow? I knew I would never see him again, but having sex with someone else helped me feel like I had something to hold over his head. Something that might make him think twice about leaving me in the first place.
I heard Micah’s breathing slow and then turn to light snores next to me. I smiled to myself, realizing how content he must be at that moment. His motives were true and honorable, both attributes I was sure Brendan had never possessed. So what was it I kept searching for? I could think of no way to justify my relationship, or my feelings, when it came to Brendan. Yet I missed him and still loved him.
Once I was sure that Micah was sound asleep, I slipped out from under him and got dressed. The house was quiet (a sign his mom and brother had gone out), and I didn’t want to wake Micah by turning on the television, so after writing him a short note, I went for a walk.
I thought about how everyone always told me, “Sex changes things.” When you know that things are about to change anyway, what does it matter? I had given myself to Micah as a gift and did not expect anything in return; besides, I figured he had nothing else to give.
When I got back to his house, Micah was awake and having some leftover cake. I sat down across from him at the kitchen table and leaned across for a kiss.
“Did you have a nice walk?” he asked, feeding me a bite.
“Yes, I did. It’s such a beautiful day, and you were so peaceful. I just couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”
“Guess the party took more out of me than I thought. Well, the party and som
ething else.” He winked.
I felt the blush return to my cheeks before reminding him that my mom was coming to pick me up. We finished up the cake that was on his plate and went outside to wait on the porch.
“I didn’t think this day could get any better, but then you surprised me in such a wonderful way.” Micah grabbed my hand. “So now it’s my turn. Is there anything I can do to thank you?”
I leaned my head on his shoulder. “No, there isn’t anything; I don’t even want anything. It was a gift, and you don’t pay back a gift.” Just then I saw Mom’s car pull into the driveway. “Guess that’s my cue. I’ll call you later tonight, okay? Get some more sleep. Bye.”
“Bye,” he said with a kiss.
The drive home was nothing spectacular, just Mom asking me about the party and other small talk. The minute I got home, I ran upstairs and took out my diary.
I put my diary back under my mattress (my super-secret hiding place) and lay down to think about what I really wanted for my future. I knew I wanted to attend college and become a teacher; it had always been my passion, and I was not going to lose sight of that now. I also hoped for marriage and motherhood, though I had no idea when those would come. I did know one thing--Micah was not the one. The more time I spent with him, the more I understood we were on two very different paths. Not only that, but we were traveling those paths at different rates of speed. And though he was more than two years my senior, I was already ahead of him. I was going to have to do something, and it was going to have to be soon.
A couple of weeks later, I found myself face to face with Micah. I had been gathering strength and courage to break up with him since the night of his party. I knew telling him the truth was going to be the best option, even if it was full of clichés: it’s me, not you, you’re better off without me, blah, blah, blah.
We were sitting on my bed holding hands. His wavy hair brushed the back of his collar, just the way it did on prom night. The memories of prom made my eyes sparkle with tears.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“I have some things I need to talk with you about, and it’s making me sad. I know it sounds trite, but there really isn’t any easy way to do this. I need to take some time and explain things but I need you to not interrupt, okay?”
When he nodded, I continued with love in my voice. “My sweet Micah, you have been so good to me and I don’t think I have been good to you. For most of our relationship, I’ve been lying to you. I’ve known for some time now that I was never truly in love with you, but I didn’t want to be alone so I continued to play the part.” I felt the tears on my cheeks but knew that I had to continue for Micah’s sake.
“I’m so sorry. I know that I’ve hurt you with my words, if nothing else. I just cannot go on like this anymore. I know deep in my heart that I’m not meant to marry you, so I don’t think that I should waste any more of your time. Can you ever forgive me?”
By now I was practically sobbing to the point that I was not sure Micah could even understand me. My heart was breaking for both of us, because I knew this was hurting him, yet it was so very necessary.
Once again, Micah proved that I did not deserve him when he wiped the tears from my cheeks and lifted my chin to meet his eyes.
“Janessa, of course, I forgive you. I know you don’t think I deserve you, but you have been good to me, too. Please don’t be so upset.” He lifted my hands and kissed where our fingers were laced together. “I forgive you and I will always love you.”
Micah drew me into an embrace and allowed me to cry on his shoulder. I could not believe what was happening. What was wrong with me, throwing away this wonderful guy? Yet I could not deny the truth that Micah and I were just not meant to be.
“You know what would get me upset?” he asked while stroking my hair. “If you said that you could not be my friend. That would be heartbreaking for me, Janessa. I don’t think I can make it without you in my life in some way.”
I pulled back from him; it was my turn to look into his eyes.
“You have my word that we will stay friends. I’ve given you a gift I could never give to another guy, and nothing can change that. You will always have that piece of me, and I’m not ashamed of that Micah. I’m proud of that.”
And so we began a new phase of our relationship. I felt better once things were out in the open, and the break-up did not seem to faze Micah. He still attended church with us and was even present at my high school graduation party a year later.
THE SECOND DAY of my visit was very long. I spent over ten hours at the hospital, most of it in Brendan’s room. He asked me dozens of questions and wanted to know details of my life since we’d lost touch. He seemed especially interested in my marriage, making sure Nate was a good husband.
Aimee, who had been sitting with me for a while, chimed in. “I don’t mean to be rude, but he’s a much better man than you were.”
Brendan looked over at her and nodded. In that gesture, he was not only saying he was happy for me, but also that he agreed and was sorry.
I turned to Aimee. “Do you think you could give us a few minutes alone?”
“Sure.”
Once she was gone, I faced Brendan. “We both have regrets, but that's part of why I'm here. I don't want you to die without knowing I forgive you.”
He raised his eyebrows, shock and inquiry on his face.
“I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. I've worked really hard on moving past everything. And though the past five years haven't been easy--” My voice broke then, and I started to cry. “I'm proud of myself.”
Brendan, silent tears coming from his eyes, reached his arm over to hold my hand. I smiled and accepted it, letting him know I'd meant what I said. It wasn't that I had forgotten all the pain he put me through, or even that I had forgiven everything. But I had accepted that we were both to blame for our relationship.
THE KNOCK SEEMED like any other knock, on any other day, so I let Daddy answer the door.
“Janessa, it’s butt head,” Daddy said as he came back into the living room.
I rose from my chair and laughed. “According to you, that could be any boyfriend I’ve ever had,” I joked while looking back at him over my shoulder. When my eyes met his, I could tell that it was no laughing matter; the person waiting at the door was only there to hurt me.
As I stood in the doorway looking at Brendan, totally unable to speak, my mind took me back to a conversation I had had with Aimee a few weeks prior.
“Grandma Nancy called today,” she said. We were in our favorite place: sitting on the front porch swing.
“Oh? What’s new with her? Are the girls okay?”
She nodded. “Yes, the girls are fine. She did have some news, though.”
“Really?” I asked with raised eyebrows.
“Yep. Brendan called her last week. He’s been sick, and his T-cells are down--way down, and they have been for a while now.”
I could feel all of the color drain from my cheeks as my brain processed Aimee’s words. Not enough T-cells…showing a pattern. There would only be one reason that Aimee was telling me this.
“Oh, my God,” I sighed bringing both hands up to my mouth. “Oh God,” I repeated. “HIV.”
Not even a year prior, the world-renowned basketball player Magic Johnson had held a press conference to announce he was HIV positive. There wasn’t much known about HIV/AIDS at the time other than it was an almost immediate death sentence. It had run rampant through the homosexual, bisexual and drug using communities. Magic’s announcement proved two things: it was no longer a gay man’s disease, and nobody was immune. After all, if a millionaire basketball hero could contract it, we all could.
Now, I stood looking at Brendan. All of the emotions I felt at that moment smashed into each other. There was disbelief and shock, but also anger that he would show up here. And then I felt something I was not prepared for: longing.
After all these months of not seeing him, I longed to r
each out and touch him. To stroke his cheek, run my fingers through his hair, to kiss his lips. But then I thought of the pain. Of how he had left me for two men and moved to Florida, just when I thought we were getting closer. And the trouble he’d caused my family: I did not want to put them through that again. I knew I had a decision to make. I could give into the longing, or I could stand my ground. I decided that I would be strong. I spoke first.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” he responded. “Nice jammies.”
“Huh?” I asked as he pointed at my clothes. “Oh! Crap!”
I had been so wrapped up in the fact that Brendan was standing in front of me that I forgot I was in my pajamas.
“Yeah, um…I’ll be right back.”
I ran up the front steps to my room and pulled on some regular clothes. Before heading back down to the porch, I peeked in the mirror and ran a brush through my freshly-washed hair.
“Why did you change?” he asked when I sat down on the porch swing. “I could’ve looked at you forever in that nightgown.”
I gulped. Dammit, why did he have to say things like that to me? What was it that allowed him to still have this power over me? He had been gone for two years, but one look in his eyes made it all vanish; I was 15 and falling in love with him all over again. I didn’t want to show him this weakness so I ignored his comment.
“Aren’t you going to sit down?” I asked, patting the seat next to me. He surprised me by sitting across from me instead, suddenly very serious.
“Listen, I know that things aren’t great between us, but I want to change that. And the best way I can do that is for me not to have a secret right now. There’s something you should know.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” I agreed with trepidation.
“Okay, so here goes. You know the test – it is positive.”
Even if Aimee had not filled me in I would have understood in an instant. He was telling me that he had officially been diagnosed with HIV.
“I know. Aimee told me a couple of weeks ago. How are you doing?”
Tough Love Page 7
