The lawn area at the back of our home has been neglected for quite some time. The yard was once filled with beautiful flowers that were pleasing to look at and I enjoyed speaking to them as if they were my audience. It's quite funny to admit that as a child, I often conversed to objects when I was alone at home during my childhood. Mom never left me with anyone else because I kept insisting that I didn’t like being cared for by strangers. There are some old furnitures placed all together close to a dumpster and by the looks of it, it’s been there for as long as I can remember ever since they discarded everything. I can still imagine myself covered in dirt while playing back here. I haven't been back here for such a long time.
We’re both seated on camp chairs, gazing up at the quiet night with stars twinkling before us. It’s pleasantly warm and unexpectedly cozy. I would have spent more time here if I had known it would be this cozy, avoiding only the sunny times. “I like it here.” He said, his eyes fixed on it too.
Sam stumbled upon our backyard while trying to get a drink but returned without it since we never go to the market. He randomly decided to check it out and now we’ve ended up sitting here for a while. Even though it’s late, I often prefer to nap at dawn particularly when the birds are about to perch in the tree outside my window and start their twittering. “Hey, about the thing the other day. . .” I expected him to bring this topic up again.
The moment he observe me always completely being quiet he would everytime begin with questions not connected to anything, like right now it's the fourth time he started again. And I know precisely what he’s talking about.
“What thing?” He was about to speak again when I cut him off. I’m not in the mood to talk about it at the moment. “Let’s just forget about it.”
“I mean, you didn’t respond to that.”
“Well what do you want me to say?”
“Just say something about it?”
“Like what?” Seeing him now clearly shows he's confused and trying to communicate something, but I’m intentionally steering clear of the topic.
“Cari, stop avoiding the conversation. You work for—with me, you’ll consistently see that I’m serious about it. Besides, you kept on asking me about it.”
“Okay. What makes you like me in the first place?” It’s not bothering me, or is it?
“It’s what I feel—”
“Don’t give me that. Give me a reason why. Why would you begin to tell me you suddenly have feelings for me? Why? And please be serious. Don’t give me compliments because I’m not fond of it.”
“I—” I’m sure his next words are just more of what he doesn’t yet know about me, which isn’t particularly appealing. Putting it simply, the first thing is my way of dressing up doesn't really liked by anyone seeing individuals got an increased quality when it comes to clothing now and I evidently can't pass that. I'm not saying it bothers me, I just don't have much interest in it and I'm not sure how to style things at all. Since choosing an outfit takes so much time, I might as well keep it casual as usual. My difficulty in having a typical interaction with people. That has been stated numerous times. Above all, how can anyone be interested in someone who lacks ambition? Aren’t people always claiming that’s the essential factor? I suppose I'm just more focused on surviving.
“It’s not that, Cari. I think it’s because of who you are as a person.”
“I—I want to be there for you—”
I prevented him from finishing. “So you’re attempting to repair me because you see how damaged I am?”
“What? No, Cari. That's the thing—” He took a deep breath and met my gaze with complete openness. “I can’t dictate your emotions, nor am I suggesting that I should. But I want you to know that I’m here to listen to you, even if you talk about the same things repeatedly.”
“I don’t want you to feel that I’ll become weary of listening to you or watching you do your own thing.”
His voice conveys sincerity and his eyes meet mine with a look of pure honesty. I’m feeling conflicted as I try to understand his words and he didn’t blink once as he spoke. He said it calmly without breaking eye contact and I realized I hated that.
“Please say something.” He spoke anticipating a reply, but I simply avoided his gaze and got up from my seat. I'm whispering to myself telling my mind to think about anything and just speak, hoping my entire body would restrain from belting up this time. “I wanna be here for you.”
I eventually had to face him. It feels so surreal hearing him say that to me. I never even thought someone like Sam would want to spend the night with me. All this negative mindset I adopt, convincing myself that something bad is always lurking around me. “I don't require someone to take care of me. I've known that since I was a child, Sam.”
“I didn't mean it that way, Cari. You can count on me to be here whenever you need to step away. And believe me, I recognize the courage it takes for you to look after yourself.”
“Just don't push me away.” He delivered those last sentences softly. If I wanted to push him away, I would have done it by now.
“Fine.” That’s all I managed to say. I’m not sure how to respond given that I’ve never felt so trapped so quickly. Ignoring it is an option, but given that he’s a friend and currently paying me for work, I feel stuck and unable to just distance myself. I’m not suggesting I’d avoid him, but I’d rather forget everything about it. Although that wouldn’t be easy. “It’s getting late, you should head out.”
“Aren’t you going to offer me the couch for the night?”
“Whatever. I’ll head to my room now.”
Then he gave me a smile. “You haven't really respond to anything yet but that's okay. Have a good sleep, Cari.” I stood alone and felt my body grow softer from the weight of the evening's events. I exhaled deeply looking around with emotions that were still beyond my understanding. I was left here, grappling with the weight of his words. The gravity of the confession seemed to compress the space around me, making it difficult to think and to process. It was as though I had been thrust into an unfamiliar landscape, one where every landmark was both new and daunting. This was uncharted territory, a realm I had only heard about in stories and seen in films. Until now, I had navigated through my life with a certain assurance that such moments were reserved for others, but not for me.
