The Truth You Hid From Me

The Truth You Hid From Me

By: Brandon

I should have seen the signs. When I think back towards our time together, I realize now how obvious the signs were. But at the time, when I held you in my arms, all I could see was our future together. Do you remember that time I took you to the beach? It was your first time ever seeing the ocean. I remember thinking that day that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. If I had to guess, you felt the same way back then. It feels like so many lifetimes ago now. What happened? What changed in us? Remember how you looked into my eyes with such love and appreciation? Why did all of that change?

I was rummaging through our old stuff the other day. I found your old diary. Back when we were together, I never thought to read it. But now that you’re gone, I suppose this little old black book is just about all I have left of you. I started to read it because I wanted answers. So much of me wanted to believe it wasn’t me that caused you to leave. After all, I was so devoted to you. It was me who rescued you from your own darkness. It was me who loved you so unconditionally. So how could it be me who caused you to leave? How could it be my fault? I had to know the truth, but you weren’t there to comfort me. You haven’t been here for a while now. So I opened your diary and began to read it. Each page I read was one more poisoned needle in my heart. How could I have known this was the real you? How could I have known the truth so deeply buried in you?

Did you know about my secret bank account? Did you know what I was going to use it for? It had $20,000 in it. I was going to use it to buy a wedding ring and have a nice vacation for just the two of us. I was thinking the Philippines. Remember how we used to talk about visiting the Philippines? I kept promising you that we’d go someday. It seems like such a cliché, you know? Overworked man promises his spouse a luxury vacation they’ll never go on because he’s always too busy, right? If only you had known that I was days away from buying the tickets for us. I was narrowing my search for the perfect ring, but then you left me. So I didn’t buy the ring. I didn’t buy the tickets. Now the money sits in my bank account. Idle. Useless. Its purpose completely invalidated. What should I do with it now? I thought about donating it, but the thought turned me so sour. Some part of me begs reality to bring you back into my life. Pathetic, right? Absolutely pathetic, I know. You’re gone. That $20,000 could do some person a lot of good. Instead, it’s just sitting in my bank account collecting digital dust, all but forgotten.

I can still feel your warm smile when I close my eyes. I know it’s stupid, but your smile always had a certain feeling in my heart. It was unique, no other feeling was quite like seeing you smile near me. That memory is fading, along with that feeling. I wonder, did you ever feel that way when I smiled? Perhaps if you had, you wouldn’t be gone. Perhaps if I had tried just a bit harder to reach through to you, you’d still be here in my bed with me. Sometimes, I bunch up my blankets and pretend that I’m cuddling you, just so I don’t feel so lonely. But I am alone. I am lonely. And you are gone, aren’t you? Reality isn’t granting me any miracles, is it? That memory of your smile will fade into nothingness, won’t it?

Why did you do it? I can’t even bare to say the words. Why did you have to leave my life like that? Was I not good enough for you? Was I too good for you? Why didn’t you say anything to me? I tried to throw away your black book this morning. I wanted to forget you and move on with my life. But then I saw the drawing you made for me. It’s still on my fridge. Sometimes, in the sweetest of moments, you were like a kid. When you drew that flower for me, my heart never felt so appreciated. There I was, frozen in time, holding your diary right over the trash can, staring at your beautiful flower for me. I was awash with guilt. Guilt that you had left me. Guilt that I couldn’t move on. Guilt that I thought about throwing away your black book. Guilt that I couldn’t throw it away. Guilt that I couldn’t cry anymore. Guilt that I had cried so much.

At lunchtime earlier today, I stared at my bank account, as if expecting the $20,000 to suddenly disappear and you to magically appear in my life again, begging for my forgiveness, and I’d happily take you back saying something cheesy like, “There’s nothing to forgive, you’re home now, that’s all that matters.” But the money didn’t disappear. You didn’t magically show up. You’re not home. Hours passed as I stared, endlessly, at the computer screen. The screensaver had long since taken over, but I didn’t have the strength to wake the computer back up. I suppose I wasn’t awake either, was I? I’m disoriented. That’s what it is. I’m in a dull void. Not a nightmare, a dull, grey, void that you threw me into. You left me here. I can’t escape. I shouldn’t escape. I don’t deserve to escape.

At dinner time, I went for a walk. It’s the only accomplishment I’ve had in months. The breeze was gentle. Like you used to be. I pretended that the breeze was you whispering into my ear. You’d probably say something like, “I told you to wear something warmer! Now you’re going to catch a cold!” I’d just chuckle and snuggle deeper into your arms as we strolled aimlessly around together. But you weren’t there. You didn’t whisper into my ear. I didn’t snuggle you while I walked. I was alone and cold, desperately reaching out to the world for a faint sign that everything will be alright. I didn’t go home for a long time. There was no reason to go home. There wasn’t anyone waiting for me there. So I kept walking. I passed the convenience store we used to go to when we needed some quick supplies. Remember the toilet paper they had there? Best toilet paper in the city. I still don’t know where they got that stuff from. You used to say that toilet paper was a thing of the gods. I went to that stupid dive bar you used to love. God, that place was such a wreck. You didn’t even like to drink, remember? You just went there for that stupid old juke box. I played your song. But you didn’t hear it because you weren’t there. I ordered that stupid snack you loved so much. Couldn’t eat it because it reminded me of you too much.

Buster passed away last week. Did you know that? He missed you the whole time. I could see it in his eyes. Poor old guy. He never got to say goodbye either. You know, of all the things you wrote in your little black book, you never once wrote about him. Strange, right? All the adventures the three of us had together, and you never once wrote about him. Not even that time he jumped out of the Jeep to chase that squirrel! That was such a funny day, wasn’t it? I panicked so bad! I thought we were going to lose our Buster right then and there! But there you were, jumped right out of the car and into traffic just to rescue our old goofball. In that moment, I thought I couldn’t possibly love you even more than I did just then. Buster gave you a big ol’ lick right across the face and I died laughing.

I got a call from your old doctor the other day. Neither of us knew what to say. We must have stayed silent for a solid two minutes, neither of us knowing what to say or how to politely hang up. We tried some small chit chat. Apparently his daughter is doing well. She says she might try out for the Olympics next year. His husband is recovering from his cancer. Docs say he’ll live after all. Complete remission! Can you believe it? Such a miracle, right? After a few minutes of chit chat, I made up some excuse to hang up. I don’t even remember what I said. I think I said something stupid like, “The tea kettle is boiling, I gotta go,” As if I even have a kettle. He knew I was lying, I’m sure of it. I just stared off into space, unable to say or do anything. After a while, I could hear the click on the other end, he just gave up and hung up. Maybe that’s what I should do? Give up? Like you did? Is that what you want me to do?

Your mom called. First time since it all happened. We both cried. She said she’d come over this weekend to help around the house. That’ll be nice I suppose. Haven’t had company in a long while and your mom was always nice. She and I were basically besties, remember? What a great person. Maybe I’ll buy a tea kettle after all, so she can teach me how to use it. She said she’ll teach me how to knit. I know it’s stupid, but I always loved your mom’s knitting. I kept all the stuff she knitted for us. They’re just so comfy! I suppose I’ve missed her. It’s been so hard on both of us, you know? Things just aren’t the same without you. I think she tried to knit again, but she lost her motivation. I think you were secretly her motivation even though you totally hated the fact that you were a grown man whose mommy still knitted him clothing all the time. But I know you. You secretly loved it. You were such a mama’s boy, and I loved you for it. But you left her too. You left both of us. All of us.

I got to the page in your black book. The one with the secret you kept from me. It didn’t really give me any answers. You could have just told me. I know you knew that you could have just told me. You didn’t have to hide it. I loved you. I would have understood. But you never gave me the chance. You left without ever telling me. Without ever telling anyone. You didn’t even tell your mother. Should I tell her when she comes over this weekend? Maybe it will help her understand.

My love, I made a decision. Even though you’re gone now, I am going to stay. I’m going to make it through this. I’m going to get better. I’m going to move on. I still have my life to live. And even though you won’t be here in my life, I will still find happiness. I will still find closure, even though you denied it to me. And I will be there for your mom. She’s wonderful, you know. I will help her through this. She and I will make it through this. But we won’t forget you. We’ll move on, but we will never forget. There is moving on. I have to believe that. You’ll always be in our hearts, but we have to be strong. We have to return to our lives. Your mom and I will still be besties and I’m going to learn the crap out of knitting. I’ll make the most hideous things you’ve ever seen and I’m going to love the ever-living crap out of them! And gosh darn it, I’m going to keep buying that godly toilet paper even though it reminds me of you! You better believe I’m never stepping into that stupid dive bar again, though! And you know what? I’m going to adopt a dog! I’m going to find one that really needs me and I’m going to give it a good home. Just like we did for Buster. And you bet your butt I am going to take that good boy for rides in our Jeep! I’m going to make it, my love. So don’t you worry about a thing. Your mom and I will be fine. Someday, years from now, when I see you again, you can tell me your secret yourself and you can tell me why you had to leave me. Until then, I’m going to live my life. I’m going to be fine. Just you wait and see! I got this!