Ophiuchus

After

In the backwoods of Munich, there wasn't quite much to see.  It was late winter, and the New Year was just hours away. Outside, the trees were bare, naked with shame as if they'd shed their leaves along with their pride. The wind was howling, and despite the fact that Moritz sat two feet away from him, with a book open in his lap, and his dog at his side, Matthew felt alone. 

"I think I'm ready to go home." 

Moritz looked up. He watched Matthew carefully, cognizant of the hollowed out, dark look in his eyes.  

"You shouldn't rush yourself." Moritz says putting his book down. "You ought to give yourself enough time, you owe it yourself." 

"I just..." Matthew sighs and turns away from the window. Moritz could that something was bearing him down. He'd been in Matthew's shoes once not too long ago, and there was something about his pain that wrenched his own heart. 

"I know I fucked up." He says staring down at the floor. "And I've hurt Camille and pushed her away, and I can't help but wonder if she still loves me too." 

Moritz gets up and sits down next to him, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. These days, the boy felt more like his own son than his nephew. 

"Don't get so ahead of yourself. Of course she still loves you- she's your sister." 

"She was the first person I told. And she was so supportive- she didn't care, she still loved me for me. I want go home, there's so much that I've done that I regret. If I don't go now, I don't know if I'll ever make things right."

"You needn't beat yourself up." Moritz says. "I know how hard this must be for you, but if there's one thing I want you to know, it's that before you go back home- you need to be strong. There will be times when you feel like the universe is turning it's back on you- but you have to power through and remind yourself that you are worth living. You have to be prepared to fight for yourself, especially in front of your father." 

"I couldn't care less about him. I hate him!" 

"Matthew-" 

"He threw me out of the house! Burned all of my stuff!" 

"Matthew-" 

He leaps up and feels his blood begin to boil. "He told me I needed to get serious about life. Said that I needed to start acting like a real man!" He clenched his jaw, as tears prickled at his eyes. "I might not marry a woman, I might not might not marry at all, but if there's one thing for certain, it's that I will never be like him. My father isn't  a man, he's just a monster." 

And just as the words escaped his lips, something within him snaps, and he finds himself curled up into a ball and crying into his arms. It's a bittersweet feeling that overpowers him; he was finally letting out years of turmoil and pain that he'd buried deep within in himself so very long ago. 

He takes a few deep breaths and wipes his eyes on his sleeve. Moritz pulls him close and gives him a hug. 

"Do you feel better?" Moritz asks softly. Matthew nods. "Much better." 

"Your masculinity isn't defined by who your marry or how you act. It's different for everyone.  But you are strong. You might regret some of the things you've done, but you ought to applaud yourself for finding the strength within yourself to vocalize your struggles. And to let someone else in, when you're at your weakest, when you're at your worst- that's what I think makes you a real man." 

Matthew smiles at him. For the first time in months, Moritz can see a bit of brightness behind his eyes. 

"Thank you, Uncle Moritz." 

Moritz gets up and disappears around the corner and into the kitchen. He returns with a few glasses and a bottle of whiskey. 

He pours two glasses."I think we earned a drink, don't you think so?" Matthew chuckles and takes a glass from Moritz.

"Here's to a new year, and hope for the future." 

They clink their glasses and down the whiskey. 

In the window, Matthew catches a glimpse of himself. For the first time in what has felt like ages, he's proud of what he sees.