Defining Us: The Calvin & Eric Story (69 Bottles) (14 page)

"Think about it, Eric. Think about it really hard because this is not going to be an easy journey. I am not just magically going to be physically okay with all this. Because believe me, Eric, I've tried. I've tried so fucking hard over the years to just wash it all away; throw everything to the wind and walk right up and wrap my arms around you." My body starts to shake harder, sweat forms on my brow and my stomach churns as I think about all the times I so desperately wanted to do those things to him. I swallow hard as he watches me closely.
 

"It's happening right now, isn't it?"
 

I wrap my arms around my stomach and cower into the wall behind me. "Yes," I breathe.
 

"Why? You're there and I'm here."
 

I just shake my head as I swallow hard. Panic overwhelms me as I worry that I'm going to make an ass out of myself by becoming sick. I just tap my head, trying to convey to him that I'm thinking about him, thinking about what I've just said to him.
 

"You're thinking?" I nod in answer. "About what?" I point to him. "Thinking about me makes you sick."
 

I let out the breath I was holding in and mutter, "Imagining." I swallow again and clear my throat, attempting to dispel the raw acid feeling. "Kissing you," I breathe.
 

"But you just…"
 

"I know, I know I just…but I…" I swallow hard once more.
 

"Jesus Cal, you're white as a ghost." He takes a step toward me, then another, I begin frantically shaking my head back and forth as dinner starts creeping up my throat.
 

"Don't, god." I cover my mouth and he freezes, backing away from me.
 

"I will never hurt you, Calvin." His voice is laced with anguish.
 

"I believe you," I tell him as the churning in my stomach settles down when he takes a seat on the couch. "You don't scare me, Eric, you've never scared me. Please," I beg him, "Please never think that you scare me, because you don't. God, this is going to sound so fucking cliché, but it's not you, it's me."
 

I watch as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head in my direction.
 

"This is what you're going to have to deal with, me - fucked up. I don't know what will trigger it, what will cause me to feel this way and I sure as shit do not want you to have to witness this. Eric, it's not fair to you."
 

"But it's my choice."
 

"No, Eric, it's not."
 

He stands up again and I slink back into the wall instinctively though it's the wrong response. I watch as fear and pain wash over his features as he takes in my body language. "Oh, but it is," His tone is menacing, but I feel the depth of his conviction and it slides over me like a warm breeze. "You say this isn't going to be easy, and I believe you. I'm sure there is a mountain of shit you haven't told me about what happened to you and I certainly have no fucking clue how to even start helping you work through this, but Jesus Christ, Calvin, we have too much history - too many fucking years between us. If you think I'm just going to walk away from you, run screaming in the other direction, I assure you, you have another thing coming. I have not waited this long to learn about what haunts you to just walk away from you."
 

"Jesus, Eric, I'm not something that you can magically put back together. It won't work like that. But this is also my choice. My choice whether or not this goes any further. It is my choice to realize and understand that every time I see fear or worry or pity in your eyes that you don't have to be here. You don't have to watch me go through this, and for what? For you? God dammit, Eric, I would walk through hell barefoot for you, but I cannot and will not put you through this. All this pain I know I am going to cause you, is it worth it?"
 

I watch as a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, his hands unfurl themselves as his body relaxes. I watch as his eyes well up with unshed tears, tears of pain that I know I've caused him. My heart wrenches at knowing I'm already causing him so much pain already. Pain shoots like lightning through my body, zapping me in ways I never thought I could ever feel. I would take a dozen shattered cheekbones over witnessing this pain and my inability to comfort him crushes me. "Go home, Eric."

A single tear falls down his cheek, my hand twitches with the need to wipe it away, but I stay put. The agony of loss creeps over my entire body and I just need him to leave. Without a word, I watch as he turns toward the door. When he reaches it, he stops with his hand on the knob. I watch as he rests his head against the door. "I would walk through heaven, hell, and the Sahara without shoes, food or water for you," he says so quietly that I can barely make it out. "When you realize that I am not someone you can push away with your demons, you know where to find me."
 

My knees buckle and his hand turns the knob as he pulls the door open before storming out and slamming it behind him. The moment the door closes, I jump and my entire world goes blank.
 

Sometime around three in the morning, I wake up on the floor of my living room drenched in sweat. It takes me a few minutes to realize where I am and why I'm there. Then like a flash flood, it all comes rushing back to me.
 

Dinner…

Eric…

Demons…

The hurt, the pain, the desire, the love…

I let the one thing I've ever loved walk right out my door. I threw away my one chance at redemption all because I'm too goddamn stubborn to let him help me, to let him redefine me.
 

I punch the floor, hard. My knuckles crack on impact, but they only sting slightly as I crawl my ass down the hallway and up into my bed where for the first time since I was seven, I cry myself back to sleep.
 

"Dude, it's three-thirty in the morning, what the hell?"
 

"I sneee ewe to commmme an get meee."

"Jesus Christ Eric, where are you?"
 

"Druunnk, in a bar,"
 

"Well, no shit Sherlock, where?"
 

"Dunno…"
 

"I'm tracking your phone, be there soon, don't fucking move."
 

I plop down on something, and wait…

“FUCK!” I squeeze my eyes shut and throw my arm over them to block out the light pouring into my bedroom.
 

Jesus, I haven't been this fucking hung-over in…thinking hurts and I squeeze my eyes shut.
 

You’re a damn idiot.

I grab a pillow and smother my face with it, growling.
 

I try like hell to roll over and go back to sleep, but it’s pointless. The minute consciousness returns, last night comes rushing back. “Fuck,” I growl as I throw my pillow across the room and open my eyes enough to see a glass of water on my table. “What the fuck?” Next to the water are a couple pills. “Who the…”
 

“That would be me.”
 

“Jesus,” I start and scramble, sitting up. “Fuck, what the hell are you doing here?”
 

“Hey fucker, you called me at three-thirty this morning.”
 

I scowl at him. “I did?”
 

I watch as Casey nods behind his coffee cup.
 

“Goddammit, I’m sorry.”
 

He shrugs. “You usually call before you go out.”
 

“I really needed to be alone.” I scrub at my face.
 

“Was it really that bad?” he asks before taking another sip from his coffee cup.
 

I groan, “Yes, but I’m not sure there is anything I can do about it. He said his piece then all but threw me out the door.”
 

“Since when are you the giving up type?” Casey inquires and my heart lurches in my chest.
 

“I’m not,” I tell him softly.
 

“Exactly, so what’s the problem?” he urges.
 

“I have a headache worthy of migraine medicine and I’m hungover like a motherfucker, that’s the problem.” I glare at him.
 

He scoffs, “Pfft, whatever.”
 

I shake my head. “Let me shower, then we can get some breakfast.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “What?” I scold him.
 

“It’s nearly two o’clock.”
 

“Shit.” I look over at the clock. “Fuuuccck!” I growl before crawling out of bed. My jeans are still on, but everything else is missing. I look over my shoulder at Casey. “Thanks.”
 

He smirks, shrugs and walks out of my bedroom. I stumble my half drunk, fully hungover ass to the shower.
 

Once inside the shower, with hot water running over my head and down my back, the last pieces from Calvin’s house slowly slide back into my mind. Calvin’s words rattle around like a bag of popping popcorn…

"Jesus, Eric, I'm not something that you can magically put back together. It won't work like that. But this is also my choice. My choice whether or not this goes any further. It is my choice to realize and understand that every time I see fear or worry or pity in your eyes that you don't have to be here. You don't have to watch me go through this, and for what? For you? God dammit, Eric, I would walk through hell barefoot for you, but I cannot and will not put you through this. All this pain I know I am going to cause you, is it worth it?"
 

Even with what I said before I walked out, I knew I needed to leave. I knew that I needed to give him a chance to breathe and to take in everything. But more than anything, I needed him to be comfortable knowing that he told me his deepest secrets. I shake my head and scrub away the memory of his tortured expression when he told me to leave. A look I will not soon forget. A look of pure pain, agony and yet a detachment from the entire situation that I didn’t expect. Seeing him in pain is what made me cry, knowing that he has to fight who he is every damn day breaks my heart.
 

“Goddammit!” I growl before punching the wall of the shower. “Fuck,” I curse as I shake out my hand, dispelling the pain I’ve inflicted on myself. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy, not with him. Nothing with Calvin is ever fucking easy but this…fuck!”
 

Calvin was right, is this worth it? Is it worth the pain? The heartache? The frustration I know I’m going to feel while going through this? Those are the questions I need answers to, but I can’t answer those questions without first knowing more about what he’s suffering from.
 

With newfound determination coursing through me I finish showering quickly. When I step out, I grab three ibuprofen and the Tylenol Casey left on my nightstand and I swallow the five pills before I dry off, pull my hair back and get dressed.
 

When I get to the living room, Casey is sitting on my cheap couch watching the flat screen, some news station is playing in the background. “World War three break out yet?” I chide.