by Hayden Hunt
And I really, really wanted to get in touch with him again.
I knocked on the bright red door, remembering all the times I’d knocked on it before. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I began to practice what I would say to his aunt when she opened the door. I had practiced on the cab ride over as well, really hoping that I’d be able to avoid coming across as creepy.
It took a minute for the door to open, but, when it did, I realized that my script wasn’t really going to work. Because it wasn’t Aaron’s aunt who answered… it was Aaron.
“Jesse?” he asked in shock… or maybe horror. Actually, probably a little bit of both.
I had no idea what to say. I hadn’t been prepared for this option. Aaron had always been so independent, and he had a good job now, and… I’d thought for sure he wouldn’t be living with his aunt. This hadn’t even popped up in my mind as a possibility.
“Hello,” I said suddenly, and nothing else. It was the only thing that popped into my mind. But man, it made me sound like an idiot. When someone looked at you with shock, that was generally the time you were supposed to explain yourself.
“Wh… what are you doing here?”
“I… oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? You didn’t expect that I would be here, and yet you’re knocking on my door? If you didn’t think I was here, why would you come? Uh, even if you did think I was here, why would you come?”
How to begin explaining myself without making things worse…
“I just, uh, well… I wanted to get a hold of you, but I didn’t think you lived here anymore.”
“But… you came here anyway?” he asked skeptically.
“Right. I thought maybe your aunt would be able to give me your phone number so I could get in touch with you. I didn’t really think it was going to be you answering the door.”
He looked at me seriously. “Okay… well, now you're in contact with me. So, what do you want?”
God, he was so cold. And I’d known he would be, of course, from how he’d responded at the hospital. And I had planned to prepare myself for that and think about what to say before I’d called him. But I hadn’t thought of what to say prior to this, and, now, I had no idea what to do.
“Can I come inside?” I blurted out. I was half stalling, half not wanting to have this conversation outside in the cold.
He thought on this for a moment, seeming to really consider whether or not he should allow me in. I was expecting him to say no, the way he was staring at me so coldly, but he finally stepped inside and gave a very monotone, “come in.”
The place looked different. Some new furniture, new photos and paintings on the wall, but it still brought back a ton of memories.
“Look, whatever you need to say, just say it,” Aaron said in an exasperated tone. “But, if you think I’m going to make you feel better about your guilt… I’m not. I’m just not.”
“But that’s the thing,” I began to say, thankful that he’d given me a point with which to start. “I don’t just want to see you to assuage my guilt. I wanted to see you because I really do care about you. It’s not just all about making myself feel better.”
“Really?” he asked skeptically. “Because, as long as I’ve known you, it has always been about you. Everything is pretty much all about you.”
“Alright…” I said softly. “Yeah, that’s fair. I’ve been selfish to you, I know that.”
“I think selfish is an understatement,” he responded. “You know, I did everything for you. Anything you wanted, I did. Anything I could give to you, I gave. I put myself out there for you because I genuinely cared, but the one time you could have been there for me, you threw me to the wolves. It was cruel, Jesse. It was the kind of cruelty I’d expect from one of those other kids who hated me, but from you?”
I wanted to immediately make excuses for myself. Tell him that I’d been scared, that I hadn’t meant or believed anything that I’d said, that it’d had more to do with me than with him, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to make excuses. I wanted to own up to my behavior without making things all about me.
“And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for the way I hurt you. There are no excuses for it. But I just don’t want you to think it means that I don’t care about you, because I do. I really do. Very, very deeply.”
“Yeah? Then why haven’t I heard from you in so many years? If your care for me runs so deep, why weren’t you ever even planning to see me?”
“Like I said, I am ashamed. I thought if I ever saw you that… well, that it would go down basically like this. With you furious and me unable to defend my actions because they don’t deserve a defense. I didn’t think our relationship was repairable.”
“But you do now?” he asked.
“No… I mean, I haven’t thought about it. I guess it still seems like it isn’t.”
“So why now? Why even bother coming?” he asked. “If nothing has changed in your mind, why are you here?”
This I knew the answer to immediately.
“Because once I saw you, I couldn’t help it. Once I saw you, it didn't matter if things were fixable or not. I couldn't control my need to see you.”
He froze, like this was an answer he hadn’t been expecting to hear. He didn’t react at first, and I got the feeling he didn’t know how.
“I know how—”
“Get out,” he said suddenly and seriously.
“Wh-what?”
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
“But, I don’t think you understand—”
“I understand perfectly,” he said coldly. “I understand that you think you can come into my life and shake everything up for me. That you do not give a shit about how I feel or what your presence was going to do to emotionally. You're only caring about yourself, the same way you always have, and I absolutely refuse to do this. I’ve moved the fuck on. I’ve gotten over you. I don’t need to have this conversation with you because it doesn’t matter to me anymore. Do you understand? I’m done. I’m really, really done.”
And there was basically nothing I could say in response. He had very clearly made up his mind.
I’d thought that, if I came here and explained that I really did care, it would have changed something for him. He’d think of things differently, and… I don’t know. But it wasn’t changing anything. He still didn’t want to see me.
“Okay, well, I’ll go.” I nodded to him. “Uh, tell your aunt hello for me, and, if she’s home, that I apologize for the commotion.”
“She doesn’t live here anymore. It’s just me,” he said coldly. “Goodbye.”
I didn’t bother saying another word. All over again, I was filled with the same shame and regret that had made me want to run away in the first place. Only now, that really wasn’t a possibility. I just had to go home to my parents’ house and obsess over what a mistake I’d made.
Which was exactly what I did. I went home, ignored my parents as I walked in, and went straight to my room. I lay in the bed that we’d used to lie in together at sleepovers.
I lay on my left side, staring over at the pillow next to me where he’d used to lie his head. Always on that side of the bed. And I thought about all the mornings that I’d used to wake up before him and watch him sleep, though I’d never let him know that. When he would begin to stir, I’d close my eyes and pretend to be sleeping, too.
And I thought about that night… the one that had changed everything. The night that had been simultaneously the best and worst night of my life.
I’d just gotten dumped by this cheerleader whom I’d been dating for about a month for an asshole football player. Yeah, just a month, it was high school, so those relationships had been finicky. But still, I had been bummed about it.
Not so much because I’d, like, cared deeply about her or anything. I really hadn’t. She’d been cute, and she’d been interested (or had seemed to be), so I’d agreed to date he
r. Emotionally, it hadn’t mattered that much to me.
What’d mattered more was my self-esteem. I’d felt pretty ugly in high school, like I’d always be that weird guy that nobody would ever truly like.
Aaron had known I was down and had suggested we go down to the lake, one of our favorite past times. I’d agreed reluctantly because I’d really wanted to go home and mope, but I was so glad I had agreed, because he’d had this amazing ability to make me feel better.
It was etched into my memory, the way he’d looked at me that day. We’d been sitting on one of the green benches, paint chipping off the wood, staring out at the lake as it’d begun to shimmer orange and pink from the sunset.
“I just don’t know if I’m ever going to be good enough,” I told him as I looked out, not making eye contact while I said it because I was embarrassed of my feelings. “She’s already moved onto Brian, who is about ten times better looking than I am, a lot smarter, a lot funnier. I’m just… I’m average in every way. Average looks, average personality, average intelligence.”
He didn’t like to hear me say any of this. “Hey!” he snapped as he grabbed my hand in his, forcing me to look at him. The gesture wasn’t unusual for us, as we’d been very touchy friends. “You are absolutely not average. You are handsome, smart, hilarious, unique, cool… you are an unforgettable person. Just because one person doesn’t see that doesn’t mean anything, you know that.”
And normally I would have brushed off his compliments with an ‘oh, shut up, you have to say that as my best friend.’ But the way he’d looked at me so intensely, the connection in our eyes, I’d just felt that he’d meant it. Like, had truly meant every word. I could feel how genuine he was being, and it’d been really, truly comforting.
“Thank you, Aaron,” was all I said in response. And I’d been able to tell he’d also been expecting me to brush it off, because when I hadn’t, he’d begun to grin from ear to ear.
“You’re welcome, Jess.”
We’d walked back to my house after that, since my parents had always made this huge deal out of being home before dark, even on weekends.
It’d been ridiculous, considering that we’d been just a few weeks from graduation, officially on our way to becoming adults. But, I guess no more ridiculous than my parents trying to make me have an eleven o’clock curfew as an adult.
We’d both been tired from all the walking when we’d gotten to my house, so we’d lain in bed and tried to decide what movie to watch. We’d argued about it for a bit, going back on forth between a horror and a comedy. He’d wanted horror, of course, he’d always wanted horror, which I couldn’t stand. Every single scary movie I’d watched was because of him, and I’d hated every one.
I’d lain just like this, staring at him. I swear, I could picture him across from me right now even though the pillow was empty. His words still rang in my ears like it’d been yesterday.
“Okay, fine, we’ll watch a stupid bro comedy,” he’d finally acquiesced, “because I just don’t know how to say no to you.”
I’d laughed. “Yeah, why is that?” I asked.
He’d smiled. “Because you’re cute. And it makes me want to give you everything the world has to offer.”
At those words, I’d felt a fluttering in my stomach. A fluttering I’d only ever gotten when I’d been with Aaron. A fluttering that I had ignored many times over, willing myself not feel anything for him.
It was wrong, that’s what I had always been told. To have romantic feelings for another man… it was a sin against God.
And I’d truly felt guilty. I’d shoved it down, told myself what I’d felt wasn’t romantic. That we’d just been close. That I’d just appreciated how nice he was to me. No girl I’d dated had ever been that good to me, after all. So, it’d made sense that I’d be flattered and emotional when I would hear him talk so positively about me, right? When a girl was that nice to me, I’d been sure I would have felt fluttery feelings, too.
That's what I’d thought, at least. But eventually, after high school, girls had been that nice to me. Eventually, I’d had girlfriends whom I’d loved. And still, that fluttery feeling had never found me. Not with anyone but Aaron.
“You really think I’m cute?” I’d asked him.
“Of course!” he said, reaching over and pushing my hair out of my eyes. “You’re the most amazing person I know, inside and out. You’re everything to me, Jess.”
And he’d been everything to me. As much as I’d tried to ignore it, tried to push my feelings down, I couldn’t deny what he’d meant to me. He really had been everything.
I’d loved him.
And in that moment, I couldn’t deny it. I couldn’t shove it away. His face had been just inches from mine, and my heart had been pounding in my chest. I couldn’t think about anything except how truly beautiful he was.
“You’re everything to me, too,” I’d whispered. “I don’t think you’ll ever know just how much you mean to me.”
A blush flooded his cheeks, and, then slowly, his face had seemed to move closer to mine. His eyes had begun to close, and I’d known what had been coming. I had kissed enough girls, the motion had been all too familiar.
I’d thought to myself that I needed to stop him. I needed to pull my head back, to say something to jolt him to reality, to keep our lips from touching. It was the right thing to do. Anything else would have been sinful.
But I hadn’t wanted to do the right thing. I’d just wanted to feel his lips on mine. I had kissed a lot of girls I hadn’t cared about… I’d finally wanted to know what a kiss felt like when it meant everything to me.
The moment his warm lips had met mine, it’d been electric. It’d been like sparks had been flying in my chest. He’d been so insanely beautiful, the fluttering in my stomach had intensified to levels I hadn’t even known were possible. It’d been like his warmth had been rolling through me. It’d been one of the best feelings I’d ever felt.
He’d put his hand on my cheek, and we’d continued on like this for I don’t know how long, our lips pulling away slightly then coming together even more deeply. It’d probably been only a few minutes, but it’d felt like eternity. It’d been a moment I could live in forever.
But, the second he’d pulled away, the second the moment had been over, reality had come crashing down around me.
What had I done?
I’d felt like I’d betrayed everything I’d been taught growing up just for one moment of pleasure. It’d really felt like I had been sinful. I’d done something because of pleasure, not because it’d been right.
Who even was I?
I’d known that the feelings for Aaron had been building slowly but surely. Still, this wasn’t what I’d envisioned for myself. Despite my feelings for him, I hadn’t thought I would date a man. I would end up with a woman. I would be a husband to a woman and have children and live a normal life.
It wasn’t like I’d wanted what my parents had. I hadn’t wanted to be hyper traditional, religious, and to have the perfect housewife. But I’d wanted some of it. I’d wanted to be traditional in the sense that I would have a wife, a beautiful house, wonderful children… the white picket fence American dream.
I couldn’t have the white picket fence American dream with Aaron.
It’d made sense for him to like me, it had. He hadn’t ever wanted something traditional. He hadn’t been like me. He would never end up someone’s housewife, that was for sure. I could see him ending up gay.
But not me. I couldn’t see it in myself. And every time I’d tried to, I’d just… felt wrong.
He’d smiled as he’d pulled away from me. Clearly, he’d been excited with the possibility of what had just happened. But I hadn’t been. For me, there was no possibility. For me, it had been a slip-up.
“So, I’ll go grab that movie!” I’d said, as I’d jumped up off the bed before he’d had a chance to say anything.
“Oh…” I’d been able to see I’d thrown off guard. He’d b
een expecting to talk about the kiss and not brush it off immediately. “Right, the movie.”
I smiled at him. “Right!”
And, for the rest of the night, that was what we’d done. We’d watched the movie. Every once in awhile, Aaron had glanced over at me, and I’d expected him to start a conversation. But I’d never allowed the conversation to happen. I’d ignored his glances, kept my eyes on the television, and when it had ended, I’d said I was exhausted and had immediately rolled over to sleep.
And, though I hadn’t wanted to talk about it, hadn’t wanted to discuss it, hadn’t wanted to have those feelings for him… it still felt good having him in bed with me. I’d felt guilty for feeling like that, but it’d been true. His presence had been comforting. I’d found myself continually wishing that he would end up rolling closer to me, our bodies touching more closely.
Despite claiming that I’d been exhausted, I could not have been more awake. I’d feigned sleep, even going to the effort of synchronizing my breathing. But with what had happened, there’d been no way I would have been able to fall asleep early that night.
It hadn’t appeared Aaron could sleep, either. But I must have done a good job of faking it, because he’d seemed to believe I was. And about a half an hour after I’d faked falling asleep, he’d whispered something softly to me, knowing I wouldn’t hear it.
“Jess, I really love you.”
Then, he’d rolled over and tried to go to sleep himself.
It had sent a chill down my spine. It had both worried and elated me. But, no matter how I’d wanted to, I couldn’t deny feeling the same.
I silently mouthed, ‘I love you, too.’
8
Aaron
Dammit, why had I done that?
Why had I sent him away? He’d been saying exactly what I’d wanted to hear. That he cared about me and actually wanted to talk to me for reasons outside of feeling guilty.
I’d thought if I finally heard that, if I’d finally gotten some validation that I mattered to him, I’d be open to talking to him. I’d thought I’d feel relieved.
