Status: NaNoWriMo - 21,112 words.
Exits and Entrances
thomas shannon.
I listen to your breathing, and curse myself for saying something so stupid. I exhale slowly, running my fingers through my hair. I can see you, standing in front of your bureau, almost shell shocked, your eyes wide.
“I just called to ask if you were okay.” I had no idea how my voice was so strong, because inside, I was shaking. Talking to you hurt more than I thought, and I was so terrified. I just thought that, like old times, you needed someone who would listen, and Caroline definitely wouldn’t do that quietly. And I wanted to make sure you were okay, that you were grieving like you deserved to.
I can see your small smile as you slowly exhale. Even before you start talking, I know you’re lying. “Yeah, Tommy, I’m okay. Thanks.”
I knew this was awkward. But seeing you cry in front of seven hundred people? That was just horrifying, sweetheart. And I love you, and I won’t let you suffer alone. Not today, not tomorrow, not until the day I die will I let you suffer alone.
God, I am so pathetic.
“You sure?” I question slowly, my voice shaking. My entire body was shaking, even the hands that held my phone. I was terrified it was going to fall down and hit my pillow, and bounce off. I was scared, more afraid that you were ever know. You exhaled again, and I could see you rubbing your face, like you wanted to just go to bed. Which you deserved more than anything else, you know, Cady.
And that’s when I knew where I stood with you, always. “Yeah, Tommy, I’m fine. Just another rough day in a week full of bad ones.” You sighed, and I could see you now laying on your bed, twirling your hair on your fingers and listening to me breathe, just like the good old days.
And I made the mistake of taking it further. “You wanna talk about it?” I ask, and when you fell silent, I quickly apologized, blushing furiously even if you couldn’t see me. The silence was awkward and upsetting, but you didn’t seem to care. Not at all.
Like me, it seemed you were happy just to be on speaking terms. You were just listening to me breathe, and I was just listening to you. I loved the sound of your voice, whispering quietly under your breath as you did something - what, I wasn’t quite sure, but you sure were making a lot of noise.
“Sorry,” You murmured, and I could hear you burrowing into your covers. “I was making sure my dad had eaten,” You said quietly, and I tucked an arm behind my head, keeping a safe subject. Your dad, and most importantly, how he was grieving. Her dad and I had been close back when we were dating, do you remember? I sure as hell do. We used to talk about how much we both loved you a lot while you got ready for our dates, and your dad had long since forgiven me.
“How is your dad?” I whisper, keeping quiet for some reason. Maybe it was because you were, and I would follow you anywhere. I hear you sigh, like you always used to when you were disappointed in me or frustrated, but not an angry sigh, until you began to speak, your words rhythmic.
“He’s ... he’s grieving really bad. I mean, obviously, Joe was his brother. My mom’s even worse though. I mean every year when Joe came to visit, she would spend all day with him before me and my brothers got home, and even more time before my dad got home, you know? I’ve hardly seen them. I understand them for grieving, but what about me, you know? I’m suffering alone. Since, the twins are across the country respectively, and what are we supposed to do, you know? How am I supposed to grieve when I’m taking care of everyone else?”
You said it all in one breath, and I let you keep talking, but I’m sorry Cady, but I stop listening. I was lost in your voice, still rhythmic and literary, like listening to someone read an old book aloud. Your voice was quiet, smooth and calm, even though I could read between the lines, and you were breaking down.
I missed nights like these, where you would talk and talk and talk, and I would just listen, wishing I could hold you in my arms and be there for you.
Thinking back, I realized something crucial. In the time I spent as your boyfriend, I only saw you cry once and wee dated for almost two years.
You were so strong.
“I just called to ask if you were okay.” I had no idea how my voice was so strong, because inside, I was shaking. Talking to you hurt more than I thought, and I was so terrified. I just thought that, like old times, you needed someone who would listen, and Caroline definitely wouldn’t do that quietly. And I wanted to make sure you were okay, that you were grieving like you deserved to.
I can see your small smile as you slowly exhale. Even before you start talking, I know you’re lying. “Yeah, Tommy, I’m okay. Thanks.”
I knew this was awkward. But seeing you cry in front of seven hundred people? That was just horrifying, sweetheart. And I love you, and I won’t let you suffer alone. Not today, not tomorrow, not until the day I die will I let you suffer alone.
God, I am so pathetic.
“You sure?” I question slowly, my voice shaking. My entire body was shaking, even the hands that held my phone. I was terrified it was going to fall down and hit my pillow, and bounce off. I was scared, more afraid that you were ever know. You exhaled again, and I could see you rubbing your face, like you wanted to just go to bed. Which you deserved more than anything else, you know, Cady.
And that’s when I knew where I stood with you, always. “Yeah, Tommy, I’m fine. Just another rough day in a week full of bad ones.” You sighed, and I could see you now laying on your bed, twirling your hair on your fingers and listening to me breathe, just like the good old days.
And I made the mistake of taking it further. “You wanna talk about it?” I ask, and when you fell silent, I quickly apologized, blushing furiously even if you couldn’t see me. The silence was awkward and upsetting, but you didn’t seem to care. Not at all.
Like me, it seemed you were happy just to be on speaking terms. You were just listening to me breathe, and I was just listening to you. I loved the sound of your voice, whispering quietly under your breath as you did something - what, I wasn’t quite sure, but you sure were making a lot of noise.
“Sorry,” You murmured, and I could hear you burrowing into your covers. “I was making sure my dad had eaten,” You said quietly, and I tucked an arm behind my head, keeping a safe subject. Your dad, and most importantly, how he was grieving. Her dad and I had been close back when we were dating, do you remember? I sure as hell do. We used to talk about how much we both loved you a lot while you got ready for our dates, and your dad had long since forgiven me.
“How is your dad?” I whisper, keeping quiet for some reason. Maybe it was because you were, and I would follow you anywhere. I hear you sigh, like you always used to when you were disappointed in me or frustrated, but not an angry sigh, until you began to speak, your words rhythmic.
“He’s ... he’s grieving really bad. I mean, obviously, Joe was his brother. My mom’s even worse though. I mean every year when Joe came to visit, she would spend all day with him before me and my brothers got home, and even more time before my dad got home, you know? I’ve hardly seen them. I understand them for grieving, but what about me, you know? I’m suffering alone. Since, the twins are across the country respectively, and what are we supposed to do, you know? How am I supposed to grieve when I’m taking care of everyone else?”
You said it all in one breath, and I let you keep talking, but I’m sorry Cady, but I stop listening. I was lost in your voice, still rhythmic and literary, like listening to someone read an old book aloud. Your voice was quiet, smooth and calm, even though I could read between the lines, and you were breaking down.
I missed nights like these, where you would talk and talk and talk, and I would just listen, wishing I could hold you in my arms and be there for you.
Thinking back, I realized something crucial. In the time I spent as your boyfriend, I only saw you cry once and wee dated for almost two years.
You were so strong.