On Paper (38 page)

HALF

haf/

noun

noun:
half
; plural noun:
halves

1. either of two equal or corresponding parts into which something is or can be divided

My life was like two halves. Two sides of the same coin. Each moment a complete contradiction to the one that came before it. I was chaos and confusion and I had no idea where to go next.

Half. I was only half.

My heart, two halves fighting for control. Both sides bruised and broken from the constant battle. I’d gone to war with myself and I had no idea who I was rooting for.

Half of my heart belonged to Quinn. Half of my world was hers. When I was with her I knew exactly what I wanted, she made things clear. She made me better, she pushed me forward. She believed, even when it was hard. Half of me wanted to stay right there, wrapped up in that possibility and promise. Half of me believed that I could be happy there. Half of me even believed I could make her happy.

The other half hid in darkness. The other half shut down and froze her out because she was getting too close. I was selfish. The commitment was too great, too real, too permanent. In the shadows the promise seemed temporary, the possibilities were destined to fail.

I was stuck somewhere in the middle. A swinging pendulum of holding on and pushing away. I saw it happening and half of me embraced it, knowing that if it crumbled around me then at least the decision was out of my hands.

Quinn was patient. It was like she saw the struggles, reasoned them out and felt strong enough to wait it out. Watching her wait, seeing her resolve . . . well it both pissed me off and made me want to weep at her feet.

I had lost my footing. I'd stopped feeling sure. Each question left me questioning more. I was two halves. Neither strong enough to overtake the other. Neither sure enough to make the call.

I wasn’t the guy she was supposed to fall in love with.

I was selfish.

I had always put me first.

I wasn't my father.

He'd have given up anything for my mom.

He loved her beyond reason and beyond fear. He did with gusto, he did it with grace.

I wasn’t like him.

I stumbled.

I fell.

I pushed away when I should pull closer.

I shut down instead of opening up.

I didn't know how to love that way. I didn't know how to give over the parts of me that were required for a love like that.

I never expected to be in a position where I had to. Now I had to choose. I had to decide if I was willing to put in the work. I had to decide if it was worth the risk to fail. To be so vulnerable that I not only risked hurting the one person I cared about, but also giving her the power to destroy me.

So I swung.

Back.

Forth.

Half.

I NEEDED TO
have him close. The distance was taking a toll on us both. The only thing saving me was going back to what I knew best. With so many changing moods I had to take a moment to let my heart off the hook. I had to sit down and be logical. I tried to get inside his head, feel what he was feeling and see it from his side. I took it all and ran it through my filter of logic and questions. I made a plan and it became my armor.

So when he showed up at my place distracted with an idea he just needed to get down on paper I knew things weren’t going to go exactly as planned. For two weeks I'd counted each hour, wishing them away until I could be with him again. It had been a hard and awkward separation after our last visit. So many unanswered emotions hung between us and our calls had come less and less, and even when we did talk he’d seemed distracted. He told me he was frustrated, feeling stuck with his writing and maybe he was, but it felt like it was more than that. It felt like he was fighting himself and he was shutting me out while he waited on the outcome to see who would win.

The whole thing had left me feeling lost. Our relationship had taken on an intensity that had surprised us both and sometimes I feared that I was the only one handling it well. I understood the fear that Keaton had. I understood the big changes that I had asked him to make. He'd made room for me in his life and then I'd come in asking for more, asking for all of it.

I think that would have been hard for him at any level. It wasn't his style. He was used to being on his own, worrying only about himself. But it was more than that. It wasn't just about giving up his freedom, it was about making a commitment that he could stick to, that he could devote himself to. Those things were important to him and honestly, the fact that he took them so seriously made me love him more.

I liked that he wasn't flippant about it. I liked that he didn't jump back with empty promises. I knew that when he said something, he meant it and that meant more to me than any flowery words could have.

The other side of that was the fact that he wasn't making the promises. I saw the questions in his eyes, not about us, but about him and they broke my heart. They also scared the shit out of me. Because I didn't know if he'd choose the easy answer or the hard one.

I hoped that this trip would help us find our footing again. When I was with him, things just felt easier. It was easier to read his face, his voice, to feel him instead of always guessing what was happening on the other end of a phone line. He seemed to feed off the connection too. Being together reminded us both why we were fighting to do this whole thing.

I sat on the bed, leaned back against the pillows watching him as he finished up some work on his laptop. I loved watching him work. I loved the focused look that he got when he was concentrating. He'd been at it for an hour, even though he'd promised me fifteen minutes tops.

"How's it going over there? Almost done? I’m lonely over here," I teased.

He grunted in response. I smiled. I'd wanted real life and I'd gotten it.

I grabbed my Kindle and decided to read until he was done. At least this way I could listen to the sound of his fingers as they moved across the keys. It was strangely soothing. So much so, that soon it had lulled me to sleep.

I woke to soft touches ghosting across my skin. I blinked the sleep away to realize it had grown dark outside, the room lit only by the lamp at the desk.

"I've been neglecting you," Keaton said softly.

"Did you get a lot done?” I yawned. He took the Kindle that had fallen in my sleep and put it on the nightstand.

“Yeah,” he said softly. I smiled as he stretched out beside me pulling me into his arms. His hair was disheveled, a sure sign that he’d been deep in thought.

“Tell me about it,” I said as I yawned again.

“I’d rather just be here with you instead,” he said. I could tell that he was tired too. I curled into him, just happy that he was here. “I’m sorry I ruined our night.” I felt him kiss the top of my head.

“You didn’t. Having you here is enough.” And I meant it. I didn’t need fancy dates. I just needed him.

“I really needed to be here,” he said softly. His voice was so quiet at first I wasn’t sure he meant for me to hear him. “I don’t even realize it sometimes until I’m back here with you, how much easier it is for me to breathe. It’s like my whole body just settles. Like a reboot or something. I needed it. I needed you.”

His words felt like a healing balm. They mirrored my own and they quieted some of the doubts that had begun to take hold. “I know. I feel the same way,” I admitted.

“I’m sorry I wasted some of our time together. I think just having you in the room helped lift a block or something,” he chuckled.

“I’m glad I could help,” I smiled.

He rolled me over so that his body covered mine and he looked down at my face. I smiled up at him, his answering grin easy. “You have a sexy rumpled look about you right now,” he said, his voice teasing.

I shrug, “Unexpected nap. My boyfriend totally neglected me for some fictional bitch with big boobs.” I threw him an exaggerated pout and his smile widened.

“How big?” He laughed when I narrowed my eyes in a glare. “No matter. How about you forget about that asshole and let me take your mind off of him,” he suggested.

“Are you saying I should go behind his back?” I asked, playing along. He dropped his body down onto mine leaving soft kisses along my neck.

“He’ll never know. I’ll make it worth your while. I’ll do things to you that he’s never even heard about,” he said roughly his teeth nipping at my earlobe. I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped.

“I don’t know, he knows my body really well,” I argued.

He stopped his kisses and then looked at me with heat and fire in his eyes. “Then I guess I’ll just have to spend the entire night learning every single part of it for myself.”

I spent the next three days with the man I loved. He shut down every voice of doubt that had plagued me, calmed my nerves and erased my insecurities. It was as if he’d finally put all of his demons to rest and we were finally back on track.

For the first time since I’d dumped those heavy words in his lap I felt like I could take a deep breath. I finally felt like we were out of the woods. And now that we felt good again it hit me just how fragile I’d been. How hard I had been fighting to keep it together and go through the motions while he sorted it out.

But none of it mattered if we had weathered the storm and made it out the other side. I didn’t need flowery words. I just needed to know we were still in it together. I didn’t need to know what the ultimate outcome was going to be, I just needed to know we were headed there together.

And now, I finally felt like we were.

I SPENT THREE
days giving into my heart. Shutting out my fear. Forgetting the stress that I’d placed on everything. For three days I lived only for the moment. And it felt good. I felt like me again.

I hadn’t felt like me for weeks. It was as if I’d locked a part of myself away and hadn’t even realized it until she had set me free again. She set me free. She tied me up. She was everything. And for three days I let everything we were together heal the bruised parts of my heart, the places I’d started to close off, shield, and hide away.

It was three days of perfect.

The way we’d always been.

Without questions.

Without worry.

Just free.

Three whole days.

I let it all in.

I let it all go.

Until the moment I stopped. Until the moment it all slammed back into me like a fucking freight train, stealing my breath away. The fear. Paralyzing me in an instant; it overtook me. Without warning. Without compromise. And without any way for me to avoid the destructive path it was sure to send me down.

The moment was simple enough; I walked into her kitchen, where she was leaning across the counter sipping her coffee and reading the paper. She wore nothing but my t-shirt and a pair of socks. Her hair was piled on top of her head in one of those messy knots and there were tiny pieces falling in her face. She was wearing her nerd girl glasses and completely oblivious to how stunningly beautiful she was. And I thought, I want her, just like this, for the rest of my life. Just like that. Just that easy. It grabbed hold of my heart and squeezed until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but stare at her.

Forever.

Shit.

She must have sensed me come in the room because she looked up and smiled. I swallowed hard, trying to force down the rocks in my throat so that I could let in some air.

“Are you okay?” she asked. I could feel the sweat that had started to bead up on my skin. My heart was pounding in my chest as I watched her walk towards me. God, she was beautiful. A fucking angel.

I took a breath to steady myself. I didn’t want to give myself away. I didn’t want to ruin everything by letting her see the spooked look in my eyes. She would know. She knew everything. She was fighting for us both. I owed it to her to pull my shit together. I couldn’t let her down again.