The Art of Being a F*ck Up - Chapter 36: Chapter 36

After I've gotten as wet and soggy as I can stand I turn off the water and step out of the shower. The days have turned into a week, and those weeks into another month that I've been busting my ass to get better, to make something of myself. I wipe the steam off the mirror and take a look at my reflection, knowing that I've been here before. I started up my workout regimen again, not that I ever got out of shape necessarily, but it's been nice having another outlet to cope, it's like meditation for me, or yoga or some shit. The work remains difficult, true, but it's also been rewarding now that I can finally stand here like this and say I recognize what I see.
Better late than never, that's what people always say, and seeing how final exams are right around the corner and I'm so close to graduating college, I guess I really took that too literally. I am glad I got here though. I'm also close to finishing this journey I started what feels like a different lifetime ago, but there's just a little more I have yet to go. Thank god for Lilah. Even with everything she already has to do, she's still found the time to help me prepare for exams ever since I parted ways amicably with Maddy.
So I'm here, back in this house that has so many memories, but it's only dead quiet when I pull on all my clothes and go out into the hallway. Or, it's almost quiet. First I hear a car door slam, and then faint chatter from outside, and when I inch over to the nearest window to glance outside I see her down in the driveway. Jason is in the car, but Jonah's still standing next to her, his dimples in plain sight from the big grin he's wearing. It doesn't hurt so much to see him these days, but that might be helped by the fact that we've had to interact on more than one occasion since the breakup.
I miss him, but when we have to be face to face it's so polite, cordial. Transactional. Right under the surface I can see he feels it just the same as me, but this is what we are, what we have to be for right now. And I've learned to be okay with that, because I can still love him and respect that he's on his own journey too. Without a thought I press my hand to the window, and catch myself wishing he would look up and see me watching, but instead he gets in the car with his dad and they leave.
"What was that all about?" I ask, perched at the top of the stairs when Lilah comes back inside. There's a box tucked under her arm that can't be all that heavy, even for her, but she still holds it out anyway.
"Here, honey. Help me bring this upstairs?" She deflects, stalling. She won't lie to me, that's something I've always been able to count on, but as I come down to retrieve the box from her I have to wonder what's so bad that she can't just tell me outright. It's not until she leads the way to Jonah's old room that I start to formulate my answer.
"Is this all the stuff from his dorm?" It's been forever since I've been able to stomach coming in here, but now that I've crossed that divide I find that it's filled with so many of his old things. Does he plan on moving back here after graduation? After I set the box down on an already unstable stack I take another glance around, eventually focusing on Lilah again as she sits on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to her.
"Come sit," her encouraging smile insists that I shouldn't be afraid, but my mind still races while I go to sit at her side. When I do she takes a deep breath, and tells me honestly, "Jonah's decided to go to New York after he takes his exams, it sounds like there are still some great opportunities he wants to pursue over there. This is everything he can't take with him."
"He's leaving?" It's all I can utter. Ironic, isn't it, how I tried so hard to keep him from going so I didn't have to lose him, only to hear now that he's going anyway. The deal is done, he's already packed all his shit into boxes prematurely—he can't even wait until we graduate—he's taking off the second he's done with exams, it couldn't be more obvious how much he wants to be rid of this place. Really I think maybe he's eager to be rid of me, this, us—being surrounded by all these memories can't be any easier for him than it is for me. I really am trying to be supportive, but the news hits so much harder than I could've prepared for.
"Talk to me," Lilah urges gently, her arm creeping around my shoulders. What does she expect though? More than anyone she knows the score, and I still haven't learned quite yet how to be brave. Still, she gives me that same honesty, despite knowing how it hurts, and in return she asks the same. "Tell me what you're feeling."
"I feel sad." I confide in her, accepting the grief openly the moment it's put into words. It feels good, not to hide from it, so I give her more. "I've been doing all this work on myself because I want to be a better man, but I thought, I don't know, after everything was said and done we could talk about things. I'm doing all of this for me, that's not what I'm saying—I definitely want this. I just, I want him too."
"This doesn't have to be goodbye."
"Then why does it feel like it is?" Surely I'm not the only one, and I look over at her, searching for any indication that she senses the finality to it too. "Like, what if he loves it over there and never comes back? Or what if he finds somebody else? It scares the hell out of me."
"Hm," there's a numbing silence that sets in while she thinks, understanding me well enough to know that I won't be so easily convinced. Words aren't her only weapon though, and she gets up from the bed silently to go open one of the boxes. "I want you to see something, here."
"Jonah's portfolio?" I take it from her when she hands it to me.
"Only part of it, this is what he submitted to the competition. Take a look." Fitting that he wouldn't want to take this with him, it must be another painful reminder of my betrayal. It hurts me too, I'd spent so long hating this thing, fearing it, that it seems wrong I should finally see it now. Whatever's behind the cover is so incredible that it won him some prestigious internship, yet it's so ruined that he has to leave it behind. I can't bring myself to look, I don't deserve to, and if I'm being really honest, there's a part of me that's afraid. Lilah sits beside me again, "go ahead."
I say nothing else as I open it up. Any reservations I have melt away when I see the work that I had blamed for taking him so far away from me, to realize the thing that had captivated him, inspired him, is the one thing I thought he had forsaken most. It's me. From page to page there's an entire spread of me, in my uniform, down on the field playing football, sitting across from him at a restaurant. Alone in his dorm when I didn't know he was watching. It finally hits me like a truck that I've been the beautiful and precious thing in his life all along, and I press my hand over my mouth firmly, my eyes starting to sting.
"Everybody gets scared, Brent." Lilah murmurs wisely, "but we all have to face our fears. What I can tell you is Jonah loves you very much, and no matter what you may think about yourself, there's someone out there who sees only the best in you. Look at these pictures, look at yourself—this is who you are. And you tell me who wouldn't choose this as the end of the day? I know it can be scary, the not knowing, but sometimes you have to have a little faith—in the world, in people. In yourself. Just be brave."
"I'll try." I've always thought of myself as a coward, but sitting here and looking at these pictures now, I stop to consider if that's ever really been true. A long time ago I risked everything I had to come out, and not so far in the past I accepted I might have a learning disability and got tested, even when I didn't want to. There have been plenty of times in my life that I've felt crippled by fear, but Lilah's right, facing them has only made me better. So maybe I am a coward, but maybe that's okay as long as I try to be brave too. I'm still sad, but not as much as I had been, so I look at her again with the smallest smile I can muster. "Thank you for telling me, you really are going to be an awesome mom. I'm glad you finally get the chance to be one."
"I already am." Her hand slides into mine, and we just look at each while we share this moment together. I love her so much, she's probably saved my life on more than one occasion, which is how I know without a doubt that I can trust anything she says. Even after our moment ends and we put aside Jonah and all the hard feelings to really focus on studying, everything she said still sticks in the back of my mind. When our allotted hour for exam prep expires I follow Lilah to the car reluctantly, not too terribly excited about being dropped off at work to deal with my asshole father.
I say goodbye to her when we get to the garage before I go inside, not at all surprised to find my dad standing at my desk. He mumbles angrily under his breath as I approach, throwing things around and slamming all the drawers while he rifles through them. I might ask him what he's looking for, if I wasn't afraid of him. Regardless, he starts in when he finally lifts his head to see me.
"What the hell took you so long, you're late! How many times have I got to tell your sorry ass you can't just show up whenever you feel like?" He growls, coming around the desk.
"Exams are coming up and I had to study, I told you last week I'd start being in a little later." I try to show some diplomacy, but go figure he doesn't remember a thing when he's been stumbling in here drunk for over a month now. I don't even need to smell his breath, I know the look better than anybody else, and I can see it all over his face even right now.
"No you didn't fucking tell me, that's not going to fly around here now that I'm in charge." He seethes.
"Do you want me to clear this with Bill?" While I'm not fully intending it to sound like a threat, that's how he clearly takes it. What did he think though, I want more for myself than to stay here working for him the rest of my life, and that means I have to take graduating seriously. So I only shrug, "because I will if that's what it takes."
"This isn't some damn game, I'll throw you out regardless of what he says! You hear me?" My dad steps forward suddenly and grabs my arm roughly, squeezing tighter when I try to pull away. It's not until I tell him that he's hurting me, and he realizes that one of the other guys is watching from over by the coffee pot, that he releases his grip. Then he turns his back, "get to work before I change my mind, you stupid piece of shit."
"No." Again it sounds so confrontational, but I stand by it wholly when he looks over his shoulder. My hands are trembling and I'm still scared, but I think about all the best the people I love see in me—what Jonah saw in me—and how, even when I couldn't see it myself, I've been worthy this whole time. I am deserving, and I refuse to let him tear me down ever again. "You can't talk to me like that, I'm not stupid. Or a piece of shit."
"Oh, I get it," he turns dark as he faces me again, coming closer, "you think because you get special treatment and shit from your teachers that you're all better, but guess what, you're still a retard. That little fuck buddy of yours sure didn't stick around, did he? What did I tell you? And you can cry and say how mean I am to you, but who took you in when you didn't have anywhere else to go? Try to show some goddamn gratitude, Brent, you're no different than anybody else."
"I am different." My heart pounds as I stand against him, and almost everything in me wants to back down and hide, but I know it's that complacency that's led to where I am now. No matter how terrified I am of him, I have to be brave. "Jesus, dad, how did it get like this? Was it losing mom, or did I do something? Don't say it was finding out about Jonah either, because you hated me way before that—I genuinely want to know why."
"Don't you fucking put this on me!" His voice rises an octave, and he loses any capacity to care about the scene he causes when another one of the guy's pokes his head out. "Blame me all you want for the disappointing fuck up you turned out to be, but that don't change nothing. You're trash, and no matter how hard you try, that's all you're ever going to be."
"I'm never going to be enough for you, am I?" It's another question I don't expect him to answer. Maybe he doesn't even know the answer and that's okay. Well not okay, but fine, because I still don't know why I've been fighting so hard to win his approval when it's obvious there's nothing that'll ever get through to him. They were all right—Jason, Lilah, Bill, Jonah—but I didn't want to see it because he's supposed to be my dad. Yet what I finally understand now is that he never will be, at least not in the way I want, and that's okay too. So after all these years I finally give up, "fuck it, I quit."
"You can't quit," my dad scoffs, surprised among the equally surprised murmurs of my coworkers. How could he think it would never come to this? Why would I want to stay when he doesn't want me here? And why would I keep chasing a love that he's incapable of giving? This is me choosing not to be a coward, choosing to finally accept the painful truth that he will never, ever want me no matter what. I throw my set of keys on the desk and walk out, ignoring him as he calls after me, "get back here, Brent! If you walk out that goddamn door, don't you ever come crawling back here!"
It hurts to walk away, but the pain lessens when I get to the parking lot, then more so when I get to the end of the road. Fuck fear, for too long it's made me exist as an idea of what I could be, trapped suspended between the what ifs and the unknown. I don't know what I'll do now, and the thought is as scary as it's always been, but I'll find the courage to ride it out, to let go of my dad and even let go of Jonah. That faith Lilah talked about, it's already inside me, it's been there from the start growing stronger by the day, and I think I'm ready to see where it'll take me because through all of the pain I'm slowly learning I'm so much more than an idea.