Page 79 of When There Was You
A part of me wants to tell him to go first. He’s the one with all the secrets. But that would be a bitch move…he’s despondent tonight. I pause, though it’s not a challenge to call something up. “My mom’s addicted to Valium and has been for years. She’s so emaciated and fragile, I’m worried she’s going to die.”
“Damn, Jacqui. That’s terrible.”
Long breath. “I’m powerless to help her. I’ve tried.”
He hums in agreement. “My uncle was an alcoholic. He killed himself driving drunk one night. Ran straight into a tree.”
My eyes squeeze shut. “I’m sorry. That must have been devastating.”
“It was my mother’s brother, my favorite uncle until his drinking turned him into an asshole. He brought the chaos wherever he went.”
“Is that why you limit yourself to two drinks?” I ask, remembering what he said in the bar the day we met.
“Yes.”
“I had a sister who drowned when I was super young. It destroyed my parents. I don’t think they ever recovered. Ergo, the happy pills.” Except, they don’t make her happy at all.
“Fuuuuuck,” he breathes out on a long exhalation. We’re both quiet for a minute. Then he clears his throat, his voice raspy when he speaks. “My mother had breast cancer and beat it, but it’s the scariest thing our family has weathered. Thought we were going to lose her.”
“Oh, Butch. That must have been awful...but also amazing to watch her overcome it.”
“She’s my hero, my inspiration when life seems too hard. I respect the hell out of her.”
The burn hits me square in the chest. “I envy you. My parents arenotmy heroes.” Bitterness coats my tone. “I think my mom drowned along with my sister. It’s just taken longer for her to sink below the surface.”
“I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I wish we were having this conversation in person.”
I exhale an audible breath, attempting to loosen thepressure in my chest. “Me too. I can tell you’re struggling tonight.”
“Talking to you makes it better.”
That removes some of the sting from my disappointment. “Do you trust me yet?”
“Getting there. Faster than I imagined. What about you?”
“Getting there too,” I echo. “I realized recently I need to trustmyselfmore than anyone else.”
“How so?”
“I tend to leap before looking, giving to others at my own expense. I’m still trying to figure out how to take care of Jacqui in that equation.”
“I get it. Sometimes we’re last on the list, and we give until it hurts.”
I hum in agreement. “I’m not blind about the why. Not now, at least. Growing up with broken parents, forced to mature early, realizing I didn’t have support…it turned me into a people pleaser.” I found the term in a magazine article not long ago and knew immediately that it described me. “I’ve somehow believed if I give enough, I’ll find what I’m looking for and fill that emptiness.”
“But you’re giving by nature too, aren’t you?” he asks softly.
Bullseye. How do we stop an innate personality trait when it hurts us?
“Yeah, and it complicates matters, gets jumbled in my mind…like a drink in the blender.”
Butch releases an understanding sigh. “What are you doing about it?”
“I’m learning, or trying, to be happy all by my lonesome instead of sitting around moping like a sadsack. I force myself to get out and see a movie, have a meal, visit a museum, whatever. It’s not easy though, and borders on uncomfortable. I find loneliness suffocating.”
