by David Burton
Beside me, my phone rings.
I briefly think about not picking it up. For a moment, the day seems a bit too much. There’s a lot to do. I could crawl into bed and hide for the day, put off my work until tomorrow.
The phone could be someone I’m working for. It could be a parent wanting to know about this afternoon’s class. Or the theatre producer giving me new notes on the script. The thought sends a shiver of anxiety through me. Will today be the day people start realising I’m not good enough?
It could be Ravi. Or Amber.
Do I really want to participate in the world today? Am I strong enough to be a functional human being? To participate? To exist?
I think for a moment.
Tomorrow I might need to retreat. And that’ll be okay.
But today, I’m making the choice to show up. I know I have that strength today.
I pick up the phone.
Now
At time of writing, it’s been fifteen years since Cameron pushed me over that visual arts table. It’s been five years since I moved out of home for the second time. Life has carried on.
Dani completed her acting degree, and is in the middle of building an amazing career as one of the most interesting theatre artists in the country. We don’t talk much, but we see each other now and then.
I’m still very close with Ted and Donna. Donna’s role at the university developed to a leadership position. I cannot tell you the number of people I’ve met in the arts and education sectors who tell me, unprompted, that Donna changed their lives at university. Donna has only the vaguest idea of how she affects her students. Ted continues to be an outstanding father, husband and friend. I still occasionally babysit their two boys.
Amber is having an amazing career as one of the most influential arts producers in Queensland. We are still best friends.
James had a long-term boyfriend for many years, and is in the middle of an exploding career. He lives with Amber, and we talk and work together regularly.
Ravi splits his time between Australia and Korea, where he teaches and does amazing work with disenfranchised youth. He remains one of the most remarkable human beings I’ve ever met. We’re still best friends.
Nina became a high-school teacher. She remains one of the smartest people I know, and one of the greatest teachers I’ve ever seen in a classroom. We’re not as close as we used to be, but we still talk from time to time.
Immediately after our time together, Rachel had several serious relationships with women. We’ve fallen out of contact.
Tiff and I managed to reconnect a few years back when our professional lives intersected. She’s the proud mother of a new baby, and is happily married.
After a decade of having never said goodbye, an intensive Facebook search finally uncovered Mary. She lives far away. I messaged her and we had a brief conversation, both expressing our happiness at the other’s adult life. Mary is well, and she is a mother. We haven’t talked since.
A quick Facebook search reveals Cameron to be a concrete labourer, and happily in love.
I don’t know where Ray is.
I don’t know where Simon is.
Mum and Dad have both retired. They have health issues, both mental and physical, but are happy most of the time. After a few years of unsettled communication, we finally got around to figuring out how to have a grown child–older parent relationship. I talk to them regularly.
Andy and Chrissy still live with Mum and Dad. I don’t talk to them often, but we have a happy relationship.
After a few months of living by myself, I asked a very lovely woman named Emily out on a date. We had worked together on a play.
When I texted her asking for a coffee, she said yes. The coffee became lunch, and we ended up talking for five hours. It was the easiest conversation I had ever had.
Emily’s the best thing that ever happened to me. She’s one of the greatest humans I’ve ever met. I’m grateful for her every day.
After being together for a couple of years, we got married. Amber was best man. Ravi was a groomsman. My brothers made a speech that made everyone cry, even though it was entirely harvested from popular culture. It was one of the best days of my life. Our families came together and danced and laughed.
Quite unexpectedly, I find myself with a life that I never thought I deserved.
I can’t tell you how to be happy.
Sometimes, I still struggle. I still have periods where I suffer from anxiety and depression.
But I’m also happy a lot of the time.
It happens without warning.
I’m baking a cake and listening to an audiobook. I’m solving a sudoku puzzle. I’m laughing with my friends over a boardgame. I’m sitting with Emily and talking about our plans for the day.
And then, quietly, and with the most delicious lightness, a feeling gently taps me on the shoulder.
It’s something deep and familiar. It’s something of air. A fragile energy.
It’s happiness. Staring back at me, and smiling. It’s a version of myself that I never thought I’d find.
I’m not always great at this, but I try to take a moment and breathe. To smile at it. Nod hello.
Yes, I am happy.
Yes, this is good.
Yes, life is okay.
Then I go about my day.
I carry on living.
Acknowledgments
A debut work isn’t born in a vacuum, and this little baby has had a whole lot help from some very smart, very gracious people.
Firstly, a very important thanks to Dan McMahon. Dan, when you asked me to come and talk to your year-twelve students about growing up I was sceptical that I had a story worth sharing. Your belief in my voice is the fundamental reason this book exists. Thank you for your confidence.
There are many people who read the book at various stages and gave me critical opinions at critical times. Huge thanks to Neridah Waters, Liesel Zink, Travis Dowling, Margi Brown-Ash, Susan Mackenzie and Jason Klarwein. Your encouragement was invaluable.
Thank you also to the handful of people who are in this book, who read it and gave me their gracious blessing. I am very grateful.
How on earth do I even begin to thank Text Publishing for their belief and support? I’m honoured to be a Text author. Special thanks to my editor, Jane Pearson, for being downright amazing.
To my friends—most of you read the book at different times or lived the experience with me. To Claire, Ari, Steve, Carley, Janet, Richard, I am nowhere without you.
Thank you to Mum, Dad, Andy and Chrissy. Thanks for trusting me with a small piece of our story, and thank you for raising a neurotic young man so gracefully.
Finally, thanks for being an amazing wife, Em, and for believing in me and the book. I love you.
IF YOU NEED HELP
Lifeline 13 11 14
Kids Helpline 1800 55 1800
On the day that I cried for three hours while washing up the dishes, I called a crisis support line. They really helped get me through another day. If you’re feeling like you’ve got nowhere else to turn, give them a ring. You’ve got nothing to lose by
doing it.
