Status: On-going
Because I'm Here
Entry Three
We’re on open roads in Illinois now and there’s not a single car in sight, just miles of miles of golden corn stalks. It actually doesn’t take this long, but we’ve been trying to stop as much as possible, just to make the journey last.
I parked the car by the side of the road about ten minutes ago and now I’m just waiting. I’m not sure what it is I’m waiting for. Maybe for the realization to kick in. Or maybe for another phone call. I pretend that I’m not worried for Tomas’s sake, but I’m worried. Worried about my how my parents are coping and if anybody remembers that Jenson can’t go to sleep with the hallway light off. Worried about Mr. and Mrs. Wayne and if they hate me for stealing their son. Worried about whether or not Buggy, my cat, is being fed well, because my family tends to forget she’s there when they’re busy. Worried about everybody back home.
But then I turn around and look through the open car window and see Tomas sleeping peacefully with the most oblivious, innocent look on his face. And I don’t worry as much anymore, because the person I have to worry the most about is right beside me. I have to worry about him the most, because he’s the one that trusts me the most. I mean, of course my parents trust me, but they still have that “I’m a parent” edge on them that makes it so I have to be able to trust them more than they have to trust me. But Tomas. Tomas stopped trusting his parents a long, long time ago, or anyone else for that matter. And when he met me, that all changed, and I’m the reason everything changed for him. I don’t want to see Tomas retreat back into his old shell again. That’d be just horrible. I want him to know that I’m worthy of his trust. That I’ll always be there for him, even if he’s not there for me.
I parked the car by the side of the road about ten minutes ago and now I’m just waiting. I’m not sure what it is I’m waiting for. Maybe for the realization to kick in. Or maybe for another phone call. I pretend that I’m not worried for Tomas’s sake, but I’m worried. Worried about my how my parents are coping and if anybody remembers that Jenson can’t go to sleep with the hallway light off. Worried about Mr. and Mrs. Wayne and if they hate me for stealing their son. Worried about whether or not Buggy, my cat, is being fed well, because my family tends to forget she’s there when they’re busy. Worried about everybody back home.
But then I turn around and look through the open car window and see Tomas sleeping peacefully with the most oblivious, innocent look on his face. And I don’t worry as much anymore, because the person I have to worry the most about is right beside me. I have to worry about him the most, because he’s the one that trusts me the most. I mean, of course my parents trust me, but they still have that “I’m a parent” edge on them that makes it so I have to be able to trust them more than they have to trust me. But Tomas. Tomas stopped trusting his parents a long, long time ago, or anyone else for that matter. And when he met me, that all changed, and I’m the reason everything changed for him. I don’t want to see Tomas retreat back into his old shell again. That’d be just horrible. I want him to know that I’m worthy of his trust. That I’ll always be there for him, even if he’s not there for me.