Fighting the Disquiet

24

Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light."
― Brene Brown

When lunch is over and the table has been cleared Decker announces that we'll be upstairs before grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the room. Once we're back on his bed he opens his arms for me to lay on him. Although I'm worried what his parents will think if I'm laying on top of him, I make my self comfortable on his chest with my leg swung over his lower half. He plays with my hair for a while before speaking.

"What happened last year?"

I sigh and contemplate what I exactly I want to say. He waits patiently for me to speak while his fingers run through my hair and down my back.

"It's a long story," I say as an excuse.

"I don't mind," he says.

I listen to his heartbeat while I start to tell him the story.

"Well," I pause my stomach feeling tense with nerves. I've never told anyone this before and it's so damn embarrassing.

"Um, last December my mom got engaged to her boyfriend--the Canadian. And she told me that we were going to be moving to Canada at the end of the school year..."

I took another deep breath already feeling like I wanted to cry or throw up. He probably doesn't even want to hear the story. This is stupid.

"It's lame. I doubt you want to hear it," I mumble against his shirt.

"It's not lame. And I do want to hear it," he says adamantly.

I groan before starting again, "Well, at first I was shocked and then I was like okay, I guess I'm moving. I mean what else was I supposed to do. So I told my...friends, but they...I don't know I guess they didn't want to waste time with someone who was leaving in six months."

I pause to clear my throat as the memories flood my mind.

"Anyways, they stopped being my friends. So, I was pretty angry...as you can imagine. And I didn't have any other friends to hang out with," I mumble too embarrassed to speak clearly, "so I was kind of alone. And then my mom started to plan her wedding and pack up our house and I realized that this was totally unfair. And I thought well if I change my mind, then maybe she'll say we can stay. And we won't move. I know that's kind of selfish of me, and I should just be happy for her, but..."

I pause again to take another deep breath as the pressure in my chest rises.

"But she just said okay. And I thought that meant she was staying but then she calls my dad, who I hadn't seen in months, and tells him that I'm going to move in with him."

I clench my jaw as I fight the urge to cry.

"I mean, I've never lived with my dad. He doesn't even have legal custody of me and she knows that I hate going to his house, yet she just decides for me that she'll leave me behind and dump me with him like I wasn't even--"

I had to stop talking because I was starting to cry and I felt like a stupid dramatic idiot. He's been my boyfriend for like two seconds and I'm already being a cry baby. He's going to dump me for sure. He doesn't say anything and I'm already scolding myself for being such a dumb bitch for even telling him anything.

"That's really fucked up," he says, "I mean if my mom just left me with a relative and then left the country I'd be pretty fucking pissed. And really hurt."

I sniffle and chew on my bottom lip. No one's ever agreed with me before.

"No offense, but I kinda don't like your mom," he adds.

That makes me chuckle and I turn my head to look up at him, resting my chin on his chest.

"What did your friends say?" he asks as he wipes my tears from my face.

I shrug, "They didn't really wanna listen. They kind of just ignored me," I say staring at the gold chain around his neck.

"Geez," he sighs and pauses for a moment, "So you've never told anyone this?"

I shake my head.

"Damn. What about your dad?"

I roll my eyes.

"He kind of has other priorities," I say.

"Other than his daughter who needs him?" he says.

"He's never really cared that much for me. He left my mom and me when I was two for this blonde bimbo half his age and her son. He's always treated him like his only child. I guess he feels like he has to overcompensate or something because they aren't blood-related."

Decker sighs, making my body rise and fall.

I want to cry again. Not because of what I told him, but because I told him. Does anyone else feel like that after they share something personal? I just feel like I'm oversharing and I'm burdening someone else with my problems.

"Come here," he says pulling my body up so that I'm fulling on top of him.

I rest my head in the crook of his neck and he wraps his arms tightly around me. I can't help the tears that keep escaping.

"I'm sorry," I mumble against his body.

"For what?" he asks softly.

"I feel like I'm always crying and bothering you with my stupid first-world problems," I say honestly.

"Well, first off, you're not always crying. Majority of the time you're kissing this handsome face," he pauses while I laugh, "And secondly, you're not bothering me. That's what friends and boyfriends are for: to listen to your problems."

I sniffle and wipes my eyes.

"And lastly, I hope you don't feel alone anymore. Because I'm not going anywhere. You can cry to me about all your first-world problems like when you run out of nail polish or get a bad grade on a test. And I think I can speak for the others and say that none of them would ignore you when you need to talk. In fact, I'm sure they would be delighted to have any excuse to have a girls night and cry and eat their feelings with you."

I chuckle and smile. So this is what it feels like to have someone care about you. I've missed this.