Only Us (Justin Fields)

|39| The Cup

Jillian

It felt like the summer was flying by. Before I know it it'll be time to go back to Ohio. There was still so much I wanted to see, wanted to do. Even though this life terrifies me I am still curious. Still wanting to see everything I would have been missing out on.

Today was a simpler day. Not every day can be an adventure because then none of them would be. So I decide to do some housework over at Justin's dad's place. Laundry, dishes, vacuum, the little things people don't want to do. I already cleaned his mom's place up so might as well help out over here too. I never did mind doing this kind of stuff, I wanted the house to be clean before his step mom Jo Ann got home after a long day of work so she can relax and spend time with her family instead of doing chores.

Justin said he would be with his dad all day working on something so I let him be. I had spent a lot of my past days cleaning and it was something that brought peace to me.

Jo Ann gets home around 4 and joins me in the kitchen. I had a recipe for vegan Alfredo noodles I wanted to try and she too wanted to try it out for Justin's sake. So I had the ingredients ready and once she showered and changed we got right to it.

"I haven't heard from my husband all day. Is he still with Justin" she wonders.

"I think so. They came by for a little around lunch time and I got them to drink some water but that was it. Whatever they're doing is hard work" I admit. Then again doing anything in this Georgia summer could make you sweat.

"Weird. They never really saw eye to eyes like any good father-son duo does. But it looks like they're putting all that aside for something" she claims.

"I can't even pretend to understand what a relationship with parents would be like but I know those are complicated" I admit.

"He's at that age where you can't really tell him anything. As a mom I can accept that. He's a 20 year old kid trying to do things people couldn't even dream up. No one even said it would be easy. I know my roll is to support. But Ivan's role isn't as simple. And sometimes Justin doesn't want his assistance" she explains.

"You can't help someone who doesn't want it" I scoff. Speaking from experience here.

"That much is true" she admits.

We finish cooking and I go back to his mom's house to finish up my chores before eating. I spread my laundry across the bed and start to fold everything.

There is a light knock on the door and I see Justin appear. The smile on my face was immediate as he let himself in.

"You've been gone for a while" I tease.

"Yeah. I was working on something with my dad" he explains.

"From what I hear that might not be as fun as you would hope" I say.

"He is as interesting man, that's for sure" he rolls his eyes.

"But you love him" I check.

"With every fiber of my being" he promises.

"Kinda funny how that works" I chuckle.

"What? Love" he wonders.

"Yeah. How it's given, how it's taken" I explain.

"Giving always seems to be natural, but taking not so much" he says.

"Do you think you could love someone who doesn't love themselves" I ask.

"Of course" he claims with all the confidence in the world.

"But how? Loving someone who doesn't love themselves is like... like pouring water into a cup full of holes. You need the water to survive, just as we need love, but it isn't meant to stay in an incomplete cup. If you love someone who doesn't love themselves then you take all that water in your cup only to lose it in another, that can't be okay. And no matter how many times you patch a hole a new one will appear. They will never be complete, never know what it feels like to be filled with compassion or warmth, that's no way to love" I defend.

"I wouldn't be so worried about fixing what I know can't be fixed.

Instead I would rather just let them drink from my cup" he claims.

I stop messing with my laundry as I turn to him. His mouth saying one thing but his eyes telling a different story. "You're willing to go thirsty for love" I question.

"Of course. To me love is about sacrifice. You can't lose yourself but you can't stay the same either. In the end it's about what you are willing to give up for love. To me if your cup isn't useable and mine is perfectly fine I don't see why we wouldn't be able to share it. Go get more water together. That's the kind of sacrafice that comes with loving someone who doesn't love themselves. And maybe once they are hydrated and healthy they can love themselves too, just as much as I would love them. The holes will heal. Even if the holes return that's okay. To me the holes doesn't make someone less than. They're not incomplete, just not quite there yet.

Some people in this world are covered in holes that were never meant to be plugged up to start with. Maybe that hole releases the bad water, the undrinkable kind. Having holes doesn't mean they don't deserve to even try. Or for someone to come along and offer some sips from their cup" he explains.

"I just... I don't see the point in loving someone who will themselves never accept the holes. Who will spend forever pouring water into a cup that will never fill" I insist.

"I do" he whispers. I shake my head because I swear this man cannot be real.

"You'll get hurt in the end. Dehydrate or something worse" I try.

"I know" he says with a sad smile. "But love doesn't really care about things like that you know? We don't pick the cup we're handed. We love whatever it is that is given to us and I think that's a beautiful thing. For fate to give us something it would be a waste not to use it. If you really love someone, even if they don't love themselves, it doesn't change the way you feel" he explains.

I sit on the edge of the bed as I close my eyes. I want so bad to believe him. To truly believe every word he said. But you feel the love and the hope drain for your cup for so long it's hard to believe that you will ever be filled again.

He sits down next to me but doesn't say anything. He knew I was thinking in this moment so he doesn't say a word. I search for what I want to say, something between what I know and what I want to believe.

"You're not broken, you know that right" he asks and I laugh. You have to laugh.

"There's so many holes it doesn't even look like a cup anymore" I admit. Might as well be a strainer at this point.

"No one said you had to be a cup" he reminds me. "The world doesn't need a bunch of cups. There's plenty of other things with tons of other helpful uses."

"I guess you're right" I smile. "I'll never understand how you're so optimistic."

"I think I'm just afraid to lose something great if I give up" he claims.