She was killing herself with the alcohol, but I was the one dying inside. Nothing mattered without her love. Nothing could make up for the emptiness inside. Not even Clementine. No matter how many kisses she gave me. No matter how tightly she held me. No matter how many times she told me she loved me. She couldn’t fix this. She couldn’t make this better. I didn’t even know what to do. What could I do if I went home? How could I make things better? I didn’t even know where I belonged any more. Clementine was flourishing in Boston. She was blooming before my eyes and a part of me wondered if she even needed me anymore. And my mother? I didn’t even know if she was really my mother anymore. Yes, she’d given birth to me, but she hadn’t been in my life. I could barely remember what she looked like. I had to close my eyes and think hard to try and remember her face. My heart ached as I realized I didn’t know where I belonged or how I belonged. I wanted somebody to save me. I wanted somebody to show me the way. I wanted Clementine to make it alright, but I didn’t know if she could save me. I didn’t even know if it was right for me to expect her to save me. I was the man. I was the one that was supposed to have it all together. I was scared for her to see the pain inside. I was scared of how she was going to react. How could I tell her how empty I felt inside? How could I tell her that behind my bravado and charisma, there was a shell of a man? How could I tell her that I loved her more than life itself, but something in me was still hurting? Something in me was constantly worried. I didn’t even understand it myself. No one knew what lay behind my blue eyes. No one knew that every morning there was a dull ache that never went away. I didn’t know how to tell her that I was scared that she was going to leave me because my mother had left me. If my own mother hadn’t thought I was enough, how could I expect Clementine to feel any differently?
I stared at the phone in my hand and realized that, like it or not, my life was changed forever. Everyone thought that falling in love with Clementine had been the event that had changed my life. They thought the fact that I’d finally taken a girlfriend meant my life had taken a huge turn. And it had taken a turn. I was now in a relationship. But the relationship didn’t define me. The relationship hadn’t changed my life because Clementine had always been there in my heart. She’d always been mine and I’d been hers. There was never a real question about that. But now, now everything was different. I felt different. I felt lost. I felt like an evolution was going on in my life and I didn’t want it anymore. I didn’t want to know this new life. I didn’t want my life to change. I didn’t want to acknowledge that my mother was dying and even more than that, I didn’t want to acknowledge that I needed to let that relationship go before it destroyed me.
Clementine and her family had always been my home. They’d been the one’s there to pick me up and save me every time I fell, but that hadn’t stopped the hole within from growing bigger and bigger. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I was scared and worried. I was scared that I’d never be able to make it right. I didn’t want to see my mother. I didn’t want to face that pain again. I wanted to ignore it and her and that made me feel guilty. What sort of son was I? Was I capable of love? Was I capable of really loving someone? I didn’t even know anymore. I just didn’t even know. I jumped up and walked to the bedroom and looked at some of the photos that Clementine had put on the wall of the two of us. Photos that reminded me of the past. Photos that reminded me of how simple my life had been before I’d acknowledged that I had feelings for Clementine. The days when all I’d needed was to hook up with some random girl, to forget the loneliness. The days when casual sex had provided me with a high that was enough to get me through. Though, it had never been the sex that had gotten me through. It had always been Clementine. It had always been there. She’d always been my rock, but what had I been to her? Was I doomed to ruin this relationship? Could I be the man that she wanted? I stared at a photo of the two of us sitting on a couch together making silly faces and my heart broke. This beautiful girl was my life. She deserved better than me. She deserved a man that could give her the stars and the moon. She deserved a man that could give her everything she wanted. I didn’t know if I was capable of being that man. I didn’t know if I had it in me to give that much of my heart and soul; no matter how much I wanted to. I didn’t even know if I had that much to give anymore. I sat down on the bed and held the picture frame to my chest. I wanted so much to make it work with Clementine, but I didn’t know if I could ever be the man that deserved to be with her.
Chapter Eight
Rhett
“Did it hurt you? These are the scars you never show. She is a fire sign, you know. One day you're near and then you go.”
"Fire Sign" by David Berkeley - After The Wrecking Ships.
There was only one room with a light shining through the door as I walked down the corridor and I paused outside the door, debating whether or not I should go inside. My heart was racing as I stood there uncertainly. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing here. I knew Clementine would wonder where I was when she got home. I hadn’t called and I hadn’t left a message, but I hadn’t known what to say.
“Hey,” a girl standing by the doorway nodded at me unsmiling. “You here for the group?”
“Perhaps.”
“What’s your issue?” She looked me up and down. “Let me guess, cocaine?”