REDAMANCY [h.s. au]

03

*SA: brief unwarranted kissing

"My thoughts cannot move an inch without bumping into some piece of you."
- J.A.

⭑Harry⭑

Since seeing Holland yesterday, my mind has been a labyrinth of emotions. I think I've gone through the whole range of human feelings-joy, anger, sorrow, and everything in between. I can't seem to untangle the memories and the desires, the regret and longing that reappear like relentless waves.

And her face, the lack of warmth, the absence of friendliness, unsettled me. The coldness that inhabited her eyes is an image that's seared into my brain like a haunting nightmare.

I can't stop thinking of her, of the encounter, and of everything I did that's contributed to the new, unrecognizable Holland Becker.

I think Ivy has taken notice of my lack of presence, because she turns to me while clutching my hand and asks, "You okay, Daddy?"

I like to think I do a great job at making sure Ivy isn't lacking anything in the absence of her mother. I take pride in the kind of dad I am to her. I'm always present when I'm talking to her or playing with her, I make sure she is given my full attention day in and day out. But today is different. My head is keeping me from our usual walk to school chat. It makes me feel like a shit dad, but my mind is stuck on Holland like glue.

"Yeah, I'm okay, love" I tell her, squeezing her hand a little tighter for reassurance. She smiles at me and goes on trotting along, unbothered and oblivious.

I wish I could explain to her, or anyone for that matter, everything that's swirling in my head. She's a three year old who doesn't need to know about the mess that is her fathers life. I could have a chat with my best friend, Sam, but he's not got an ounce of romanticism in his bones and simply won't understand. I could call my sister, but she'll tell me that I need to be practical. I could also call my mum, but she'd worry too much while simultaneously telling me some cliche to ease my worries, and I don't want to burden her with the complexities of this.

The only person who can really help me figure this out is the one person who won't say anything beyond small talk; even that seemed strained from her.

I still have strong feelings for Holland, that part is simple. It's everything else that's woven a tapestry of barriers and blocks-especially the fact that she wants nothing to do with me anymore. And I'm unsure, unprepared, and undone.

After a few more minutes, Ivy and I arrive at her preschool, pink backpack in hand to the old brick building that's been converted into a bright space full of noisy children. I punch in the code that unlocks the door so we can go in.

Once we're inside, Ivy wraps her arms around me as I kneel down, pressing her small frame into me.

"I love you so much, Ivy," I tell her, now putting her backpack into the cubby with her name next to it.

The higher pitch voices of the children ring in my ears while the teacher tries to wrangle them in for their morning activity.

"Love you, Daddy!" She exclaims, before I'm left in the dust and she's off playing with a group of other kids by a table full of paper and crayons. "Have a lovely day!" I'm shouting after her, golden curls bouncing with each step.

I give her one last wave before I walk to the door and let myself out. I love seeing her blossom into a social, outgoing kid, but the way she needs me less and less always leaves me feeling bittersweet.

I walk back home, fully indulging in the chaos of my mind now that Ivy isn't around. Normally, I would be making my way to the fancy school I work at as a music teacher, but I called in earlier saying I was under the weather. There's no way I would have been able to keep my focus on teaching today, so I thought it best to take a day for myself.