HAVING 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

38. Love's such an old-fashioned word

JOHNNY
May 5th, 2005

Missy and I saw each other every day. We didn't talk about her home situation often. I knew her Da was gone now, so she was safer, but I also knew that it was still uncomfortable there.

Tonight, she'd stayed over. She wasn't allowed to sleep with me in my room, but she spent the night in a guest room instead.

I felt something change in her after that night. I knew she was still Melissa, but she was absent.

Half of the time, she wasn't listening to what I said. I understood that she in a different headspace, I just wished she would let me help her.

That's all I wanted to do. Help her.

I didn't know when I started loving her, honestly. I guess I just did.

At some point between drunkenly making out with her at a random party and her texting me just now, I loved her.

I don't think it appears in one day or one moment. I think you earn being allowed to love someone, and then you slowly start doing it.

I earned it by never judging her and communicating clearly whenever there was an issue. Though my bulldozing wasn't always okay, I never pushed her so far as to make her not trust me.

I thought she earned it when she was vulnerable with me. She let me into her barricaded door. She gave me the key to her mind.

Being in love is a great gift. Possibly the greatest, and when someone allows you to do it to them while you let them do it to you, you feel on top of the world.

But love is a lot of pressure to be under. It matters where you apply it. That was why I was scared to bulldoze more through Mel's life.

I always thought that Melissa never had much love in her life aside from her siblings and, later on, me.

The only example she ever had of love was her what her parents had.

But that wasn't real love. Love was when I let her and all of her siblings sleep over at my house even though she hadn't met my parents before.

Love was how she sobbed in the ambulance all the way to the hospital and even more when I was in surgery.

Love was how she didn't mind Sookie's dog hair on her clothes.

My girlfriend told me that Theodore Lynch used to tell her that love was a sin, and she couldn't have a boyfriend.

If loving her was a sin, I would gladly walk through the depths of hell, knowing I've held heaven in my hands.

•

MISSY
May 6th 2005

I'd woken up, ready to face my Mam and Darren before heading out to Johnny's place. I was taking the bus this time.

Of course, she wouldn't let me leave the house.

"You can't trap me here, Mam," I told her calmly.

"We're trying to keep you safe, Melissa," Darren intercepted.

"Shut the fuck up." I put on my shoes either way, more than willing to push him out of my way.

"Stop yelling at each other!" Marie screamed.

"Jaysus, we're not yelling, you are," I said.

"Melissa, you're not leaving this house. No negotiations."

"You can't lock me up. You're doing exactly what he did to us," I compared the situations.

"We don't abuse you," Darren raised his voice.

"Just let me be a teenager," I pleaded. "I'm seventeen years old. I've barely made it to this age. Let me have some kind of childhood!"

"The problem is not that you leave the house, it's who you're spending time with," My oldest brother announced loudly.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Johnny?"

"Yeah."

"Why?!" I actually yelled.

"His father is a barrister," Mam said. "He could take my kids from me."

"Maybe that would be for the best," I said under my breath.

"What?"

"Mam, I love him," I teared up while defending Johnny's honour. "You can't take that from me."

"I can do whatever I want," She lit a cigarette.

"Don't smoke inside—"

"Don't tell me what to do," She could only say sadly. "You don't know the first thing about love, Theodora. You're only a kid."

"How old were you when you had him?" I pointed to Darren. "That's right. You don't get to tell me what love is."

"Teddy loves me! You have no idea how much," She protested.

"What he does to you, or to any of his children, is not love," I tried to make her realise. "Someone who loves you wouldn't do this."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" She cried.

"You and Da don't look at each other the way Johnny and I do. You don't touch, or play, or laugh. You don't know anything about love!" I stood up for my truth.

"That's not love," She said coldly. "It's freedom."

I shook my head. "Well, I guess I'm not my mother's daughter, because I would never forgive myself if Johnny laid a hand on my children. I hate you, Mam."

I pushed past Darren and left with a face wet by tears.

NOTE

Going to a concert tonight

Love, Rhiannon