Because You Said Forever
Part 20
I don’t sleep with Joe tonight. It’s the first time I’ve slept in my own bed for a while, but I like it a lot better. It’s somewhat weird not to feel him holding me as I sleep. Even on the nights I’m mad at him, it doesn’t take me very long to get to sleep in his arms. Tonight, I toss and turn for a half an hour until I finally zonk out.
Joe actually makes dinner the next. He’s being nice, but it’s always like this. He’ll smother me with niceness to make sure I forgive him for whatever he may have done. A week of kindness followed by a blowout is usually how things happen. I go along with it and enjoy the kindness like always. I let it go. Because Joe can’t control himself. If Joe’s here, he’s not somewhere else. So he’s not with someone else. So I usually go along with it. The past is gone, a clean slate. He sits down next to me at the table, kissing my cheek gently as we both help ourselves to a plate of lasagna. I don’t say anything when he tells me good morning.
“You never talk anymore,” he says after a little while of silence. I just look at him and shrug.
“I have nothing to say.”
He looks at me oddly. “Are you sure?”
I just nod, having lost my appetite already.
Joe wasn’t even always like this. He was never the best brother, but at first he was a kind, supportive boyfriend. I never got dates as a young teenager, or I’d be dumped after a week. I remember when my self esteem got so low that when Joe eventually said he liked me, and kissed me, I stayed with him, not even caring that he was my brother. Then I started actually getting feelings for him. I never left him. I remember when he went back to being a brother, insulting me half the time. Then kissing and sweet talking me half the time. My arm suddenly stings, breaking me out of my thoughts and my eyes snap to the red blotch.
“Nick. I’m talking to you. Are you okay? You’re being really weird tonight.”
I nod, getting a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t feel like eating.”
Joe points at the plate. “Eat. You haven’t had a full meal in a couple days. And I spent a while making this.” He shoves a purposeful forkful into his mouth while I just stare at the plate. Joe finally puts his fork down and scoots his chair closer to me. Somehow, he manages to get out of his seat and straddle me, sitting on my lap and facing me. I remain silent, leaning backwards a
little bit. “What’s the matter?” he asks again.
The truth is I’m just excessively agnsting over everything bottled in right now. The straightener incident seemed to have been just about the last straw. Joe fails in an attempt to kiss me as I lean backwards, dodging him. He gives me an annoyed scowl. “Okay, what’s your problem?” he asks me harshly, crossing his arms. I bite my lip, not being able to respond to him all of a sudden.
“I think we should talk.”
Joe actually makes dinner the next. He’s being nice, but it’s always like this. He’ll smother me with niceness to make sure I forgive him for whatever he may have done. A week of kindness followed by a blowout is usually how things happen. I go along with it and enjoy the kindness like always. I let it go. Because Joe can’t control himself. If Joe’s here, he’s not somewhere else. So he’s not with someone else. So I usually go along with it. The past is gone, a clean slate. He sits down next to me at the table, kissing my cheek gently as we both help ourselves to a plate of lasagna. I don’t say anything when he tells me good morning.
“You never talk anymore,” he says after a little while of silence. I just look at him and shrug.
“I have nothing to say.”
He looks at me oddly. “Are you sure?”
I just nod, having lost my appetite already.
Joe wasn’t even always like this. He was never the best brother, but at first he was a kind, supportive boyfriend. I never got dates as a young teenager, or I’d be dumped after a week. I remember when my self esteem got so low that when Joe eventually said he liked me, and kissed me, I stayed with him, not even caring that he was my brother. Then I started actually getting feelings for him. I never left him. I remember when he went back to being a brother, insulting me half the time. Then kissing and sweet talking me half the time. My arm suddenly stings, breaking me out of my thoughts and my eyes snap to the red blotch.
“Nick. I’m talking to you. Are you okay? You’re being really weird tonight.”
I nod, getting a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t feel like eating.”
Joe points at the plate. “Eat. You haven’t had a full meal in a couple days. And I spent a while making this.” He shoves a purposeful forkful into his mouth while I just stare at the plate. Joe finally puts his fork down and scoots his chair closer to me. Somehow, he manages to get out of his seat and straddle me, sitting on my lap and facing me. I remain silent, leaning backwards a
little bit. “What’s the matter?” he asks again.
The truth is I’m just excessively agnsting over everything bottled in right now. The straightener incident seemed to have been just about the last straw. Joe fails in an attempt to kiss me as I lean backwards, dodging him. He gives me an annoyed scowl. “Okay, what’s your problem?” he asks me harshly, crossing his arms. I bite my lip, not being able to respond to him all of a sudden.
“I think we should talk.”