Being hated is not a good feeling. I have been hated by so many different people for so many different reasons and for so long that I have stopped feeling most things. I beg for the smallest inkling of hope, but I'm never surprised when nothing changes because I never really expect anything else. Tom and his family are the bright spots in my life. I know its okay to feel around them and I am grateful to them for that. Knowing about Isaac has answered a lot of my questions in regards to their motives and I know for sure that the only thing they want from me is my existence, which is good because I doubt if I could live up to any real expectations.
I broke my vow not to eat that day and ate dinner at Tom's house. I couldn't pass on the opportunity because dinner with Tom's family was always like dying and going to heaven. His parents took an active interest in me and my life and that made me feel good on the inside, like maybe I really was worth something. When I was around his parents, I forgot to be self- conscious, I forgot that I was a walking blight and I forgot who I was. It was different with Tom because I was attracted to him so I was always on edge around him and overly aware of my awkwardness and insecurities, but just being in his presence made the world a little better. Tom was my sunshine.
I tried not to focus on Tom when I was eating, even though I felt his eyes watching every bite I took. I think he would have swallowed the food for me, if he could. After dinner Tom and I went to his room to watch movies, or so I thought. We were in his room before I realized he had other intentions. He closed his room door and locked it as I sat on his bed.
"You know we haven't really talked about last night. I mean we mentioned it, but we haven't talked about it," he said as he sat down next to me on the bed.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Well, you know how I feel but I don't know how you feel. I'm sure the kiss caught you off guard and you might be confused. I wasn't going to say anything because you made it clear in our talk earlier that you didn't wan to discuss it, but then you kissed me on the cheek in the car and it got me to thinking. I can see on your face that you're trying to hold something back, so what is it? Are you repulsed by me but you're too afraid to tell me, or do you love me too?"
"I can't answer that."
"Yes you can."
"No I can't."
"You can. You just don't want to."
"I'm going to lose you no matter what I say, so why say anything?"
"Is that really what you think? Nothing you could do or say could change how I feel about you. You're a part of my life and I can't imagine not having you in it, so just tell me."
"How can I tell you?" I asked him.
"I tell you what, I'll tell you what it is and you tell me if I'm right. Is that okay?"
"Are you going to let me out of the room if it isn't?" I asked sarcastically.
"Yes, I'll let you out if you don't want to tell me, but I know you do, you're just afraid."
"Well, since you know everything, go ahead and tell me how I feel about you."
"You love me and not just as your best friend. You love me the same way I love you. You don't want to tell me because you're afraid that we won't work out and you'll lose me. I can promise you that will never happen, you'll never lose me. You think I'm so strong but I'm not. I would be crushed if I lost you and it would probably devastate me for the rest of my life because I don't know who I am without you. Yes that scares the shit out of me, but sometimes you have to throw caution to the wind and just live. Don't be afraid to love me. I'm not afraid to love you."
His sales pitch was dead on but I wasn't ready to tell him he was right. "When are we going to watch the movies?" I asked.
"Did you really just ask me that?"
"Yes. I'm ready to watch the movies now."
"Fine. I won't force you to do anything. You know me better than that." His face fell and I wanted to kill myself for hurting him.
I lowered my head and tried to hold the tears at bay while I listened to Tom walking around the room. He didn't ask which movie I wanted to watch. He put one in then he sat on the floor. "Why are you sitting down there?"
"I didn't want you to think I was pushing you," he replied in a voice much lower than his usual.
"Pushing me how? We always sit on your bed. It's weird with you down there." He ignored me for a minute and I thought he was planning to keep his distance and stay on the floor, but as soon as the previews ended, he silently pushed up off the floor and sat on the bed then he pressed play. I was usually uncomfortable when we had our moviefests, because his presence on the small twin sized bed made me think of sexual things, but suddenly his presence did not bother me, instead, it made me feel safe and my heart stood still as he sat back on the bed and leaned against the wall. "Thank you," I told him without looking at him.
"You're welcome."
The movie was halfway over before I realized I didn't have a clue what was going on. My mind was in the throes of an intense debate between two distinct voices. One voice was saying I shouldn't get involved with Tom because it wouldn't work: I was too much of a loser for anything to work between us. The other voice was telling me to let Tom know I liked him because there was no reason not to since I already knew where he stood: I had nothing to be afraid of because he certainly wasn't going to reject me.
His hand was resting on the bed. I kept looking at it and screaming at myself to try something. My breathing slowed as I decided to take a bold step. I sat my hand on top of his soft blanket and slowly inched my hand towards him. My hand lightly grazed his and he jerked his hand away. A few seconds later, his hand was placed about a millimeter away from mine. There was a painstakingly awful wait as his hand crept closer. His movement was tentative. I was careful not to move when our hands made contact. Soon I felt his hand on top of my hand. When I didn't pull away, he intertwined our fingers. I pushed up against his hand and he quickly took his hand away. I turned my hand over with my palm facing up and left my hand on the blanket. His hand returned to mine and I felt his eyes staring at me so I turned to face him. Our eyes had a short conversation before he smiled and squeezed my hand and we returned to watching the movie. Holding his hand felt nice and gave me a rush that I had only previously felt when I hurt myself. The feeling was amazing. Who would have known that something as simple as holding hands could mean so much? We had held hands before, but never when both of us was distinctly aware that there was something going on between us and fully aware that the other person knew. My breathing was labored as I tried to keep track of the thoughts running around in my head.
We held hands for the rest of the movie and in that time, I think my heart ran a marathon without telling my body. The closer the movie got to the end, the more I started sweating and wondering what I was doing. I couldn't cross the line with Tom, but I knew sitting on the bed with him the way we were, was as good as erasing the line completely. The movie ended and the credits started rolling, but neither of us moved. Our hands remained stuck together.
"Are you going to take out the movie?" I asked.
"Yeah, but not right now. I just want to sit here for a few minutes." We sat in silence and when I finally thought he wasn't going to ever move, he announced, "I'm going to let go of your hand."
`Reading my mind again,' I thought. "Okay."
He was slow to let go of my hand and when he did, I wanted him to hold it again, but I pretended like I didn't care. He took out the dvd and put it in its case. "Do you want to watch another movie?"
"Sure."
"Which one?"
"It doesn't matter." I knew I wasn't going to watch the movie.
While he was up putting the movie in, I decided to stretch out. I was about to sit up when he was walking back to the bed, but he said, "Just stay." He stretched out on the bed with his back to me. "I'm not blocking the tv am I?"
"No."
His body provided a new distraction as my eyes traveled up and down his back. All of him could have been mine and I turned it down. I yearned to reach out and touch him. The back of his neck and his exposed arm were both calling to me. My fingers were rubbing his arm before I had a conscious thought to persuade me otherwise. He stiffened at first but then he relaxed and moved his head in a position that made his neck longer, which tantalized me. My body continued to move without my permission until my lips were hovering over his neck. My lips parted slightly and I could feel my breath as it bounced off his skin. I was breathing heavily and my chest hurt from the panicked thumping of my heart. My lips brushed against his neck and my tongue came out to taste him. He tasted salty. He moaned.
I felt a stirring in my pants and my insecurities came rushing to my head. "I'm sorry," I whispered in his ear as I sat up and stopped our contact.
"Why did you stop?" he asked. He turned around and sat up so we were face to face.
"I love you," I blurted out. His entire face seemed to smile at me and I finally understood what it meant for a person to beam.
"I know, so why did you stop?"
"Because you were right, I'm scared."
His left hand caressed my cheek on its way to wrap around the side of my face and pull my head closer to his. He started leaning forward, "There's nothing to be afraid of." He was almost close enough to kiss me when I moved my head.
"It won't work. We wouldn't make it."
"Why not?"
"Me, it's me. I'm too messed up."
"I don't care what you think is wrong with you, you're not messed up. I love everything about you."
"Really? What is there to love about me?" My eyes stung as volcanic tears escaped and burned my cheeks.
Tom put his arms around me and pulled me down on the bed. I buried my face in his shirt and cried. "I'm scared, too," he whispered. "I'm scared that I won't be able to give you what you need and I'm scared of watching you hate yourself. It hurts to know that you can't see yourself through my eyes because if you did, you would know why I love you. You're so giving and sweet and innocent. You're a genuinely good person and you never put anyone down, well other than yourself. I look in your eyes and I feel like I have a reason to live. Loving you is my purpose. I'm sure of that."
I was crying so hard that I made myself sick and I started coughing. My whole being seemed to shake as my mind and body battled for control. I wasn't sure what was happening to me but I knew something was wrong because I couldn't open my eyes.
"Sam. Sam. Sam!" Tom's voice seemed to get more distant each time he called my name. I opened my eyes and Tom was looking down at me. I wanted to sit up, but my body wouldn't listen to me. "Are you okay?" he asked. I managed to nod my head. He put his hand on my forehead. "You're warm. I'm going to go get you some water and tell my parents what happened."
I felt his absence the instant his body left the bed. I wanted him to come back as quickly as possible because I was lonely and I felt lost. I was extremely tired so I closed my eyes for what seemed like a second. "Sam." My eyes fluttered and Tom shook me.
"Don't shake him," his father said.
"Yeah, don't shake me."
"Are you okay?" Tom asked again.
"I think so. I'm just really tired all of a sudden."
"Dad, I think he had a seizure."
"I didn't have a seizure," I protested.
"Well whatever it was, we need to get you to a hospital so they can check you out," his father said.
"That won't be necessary. I'm fine," I said.
"No you're not, son. You need to see a doctor."
Him calling me son made me feel better. "Your wife is a doctor. Can she look at me?" I didn't want to go to the doctor and force my parents to come to a hospital to get me. Somehow, it didn't seem fair to them. They were probably enjoying their day.
"She went to the store and you need medical attention now." He lifted me in to his arms before I had chance to protest.
"You never pick me up like that anymore," Tom joked.
"You weigh too much," his father told him.
"No, Sam weighs too little. He probably weighs what I did when I was ten."
I knew Tom was trying to cheer me up by teasing me as usual about what he considered a lack of size on my part, "Yeah, that's funny," I told Tom. "You can put me down. I can walk."
"I don't want you to hurt yourself."
"I won't. I'm fine. Right Tom?" I looked to Tom for back up but he betrayed me.
"No he's not Dad, but I want to carry him." He put his arms around me and practically ripped me from his father's arms.
"Put me down."
He laughed at me. "Are you going to make me?" He knew I was no match for him, he was all muscle and I was all fat.
"Dad would you give us a minute? I'll bring him right down, but I need to talk to him."
Tom's father smiled at him and I wondered how much he knew about Tom's feelings for me. "I'll go start the car," he said.
"Thanks Dad." As soon as his father was out of the room, he kissed me on my forehead. "I love you and I'm going to save you if it kills me. Now come on, let's get you some help."
He carried me out to the car and put me across the backseat. His mother pulled in the driveway before he shut the door. I heard heels running towards us. "What's going on?" she asked.
"Sam had a seizure," Tom said.
"Oh my god, is he okay?"
I sat up. "I'm fine."
Her hand was on my forehead. "Well you don't feel hot, but I'm going to have to go inside and get the thermometer to be sure."
"Honey we were taking him to the hospital," Tom's father said.
"Okay, but let me check him out first. You know he hates hospitals." My heart smiled when I heard her say that. It almost sounded as if she really cared about me and respected my wishes.
"Do you want me to take him back inside so you can examine him?" Tom asked.
"Thanks sweetie. Take him to the guest room."
Tom reached in and tried to pull me out and I lightly kicked him away. "I can walk."
"No you can't. You might have another seizure and then fall and hit your head or something." He grabbed my legs and pulled me out then he threw me over his shoulder.
"What the hell are you doing? Don't be so rough with him and don't hold him like that," his mother ordered.
"Sorry," he said as he slowly flipped me in to his arms so he was carrying me like I was a baby. He walked me back in to the house and took me to the guest bedroom. He lowered me on to the guest bed and adjusted the pillows behind me so I could sit up at an angle. He stole a kiss on my cheek before his mother walked in with her doctor's bag.
"We're going to need a little privacy," she told Tom.
"Okay." Tom left the room and closed the door behind him.
"What happened earlier?" she asked.
"I think I fainted."
"Usually I would ask if you've eaten, but you ate dinner with us so I know you have. You didn't purge did you?"
`Thanks for asking me if I threw up. Nice to know you have so much faith in me,' I thought. "No."
"Have you ever fainted before?"
"A few times before I went to the clinic but nothing like today."
"What made today different?"
"I felt myself shake for a few seconds before I passed out. That's never happened before."
"Okay. I need to have a look at you, is that alright?"
"Yes."
His mother performed a few tests on me which made me uncomfortable, but I would rather have her examine me than some random doctor with cold hands. "I know your body has been through a lot these past few years," she told me after she finished taking my blood pressure. I looked away from her. She finished examining me and said, "Well your vitals are fine but you seem a little underweight"
I immediately became defensive, "My doctor said I was doing well."
"Perhaps you are, but you still need to gain weight. Now you're going to need some more testing so we can figure out what caused your episode earlier. I'll give your mother the name of a specialist."
"Please don't tell my mother."
"You're her child, I have to tell her. She needs to get you a checkup as soon as possible."
"As soon as possible? Am I sick?"
"I don't know that's why you need more tests. When was the last time you had a physical?"
"I had one when they let me out the last time."
"That was about a year ago, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"You need a new physical."
"Can't you give me one?"
"No, but I can recommend a great doctor for you."
"I have a doctor."
"Okay, I'll tell your mother to schedule an appointment for you."
"I don't want her to know about this," I whined.
"Why not? She's your mother."
`She hates me,' I thought. "I don't want to bother her."
"I wish you knew how much she worried about you. Trust me, you won't be bothering her. You never bother her. She loves you." I rolled my eyes and bit my tongue. I knew if I opened my mouth I would tell her that my mother hated me and any perception otherwise was severely misled so I kept my lips sealed. "You do know she loves you, don't you?"
"Mm-hmm." I felt dishonest for letting the lie come out but I couldn't tell her the truth about how my mother really felt, no one needed to know that. `What I wouldn't give to cut myself right now,' I thought.
She kissed me on my forehead, "I'll tell Tom he can come in."
"Thanks," Tom said as he walked in.
"Were you listening at the door?" she asked.
"Of course not." His grin told us otherwise.
I pulled a pillow from behind me and threw it at him but it landed on the floor before it reached him. "Does patient confidentiality mean nothing to you?"
He picked up the pillow and smiled. His mother stood, "Tom make sure Sam stays in the bed and rests for a little while."
"Okay." She left the room and he walked to the other side of the bed and jumped so that he landed on the bed in the same position as me. The whole bed shook and I felt dizzy for a second but I tried not to show it. "You really had me worried," he said.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine, as long as you're okay."
"I am."
"So, um, do you want to sit in here and hold hands while you relax?"
I laughed. "Okay."
He placed his hand facing up on the bed and I placed my hand in his. We sat like that, connected in silence, until his mother came to ask if I was spending the night and to tell me that she had talked to my father because my mother wasn't home.
I was completely embarrassed about the whole situation and all I wanted to do was go home and cut myself, so I told Tom I needed to go home and talk to my family. I was pretty sure he knew I was lying. I offered to take the bus; he said he had to drive me since we were technically more than friends and he would worry unless he watched me arrive safely at home with his own two eyes. I thought it was sweet.
The drive to my house was strange. Tom drove with one hand and we held hands the entire way. I wasn't sure why we were holding hands. Each time we stopped at a light, he would squeeze my hand. My voice was trapped in my heart, but it was okay because he was quiet until we reached my house.
"Do you want to do something tomorrow?" he asked.
"I have a lot of work to do."
"Oh, will you have time to talk on the phone?"
"Don't I always?"
"Yeah, you do." He let go of my hand. "Do you want me to pick you up on Monday?"
"Don't you have to get up early so you can workout with the team?"
"You're right, how did I forget?" his eyes twinkled when he looked at me and I felt the urge to jump out of the car and run but something held me there.
"So I'll see you at lunch. Hopefully I make it there in one piece." I laughed.
"That's not funny. You better be there."
"I will."
I got out of his car and closed the door. No one said anything when I walked in my house. I went to the kitchen to get a cold bottle of water. My mother was standing in front of the microwave waiting for a bag of popcorn to finish popping. She looked at me and I looked at her, and then we both finished what we were doing.
I was surprised to find a note on my door that read: "I'll call Dr. Thomas on Monday -Mom." She hadn't said one word to me in the kitchen. I went in my room and closed the door. My mind was focused on getting the knife and relieving some of the tension from the day and the embarrassment of passing out in front of Tom. A few minutes later, I was on my bed, preparing to make some fresh lines. For the first time in a long time, the cuts didn't help at all.
I looked at the picture on my nightstand and I knew what the problem was. My family was staring back at me and I could feel the hatred emanating from their eyes. Usually I could tune out the sadness, but every now and then, I was overwhelmed by it. I turned the picture down so I didn't have to look at their faces, but I could still feel the coldness coming from them. I cut a few more times than I intended and a little deeper than usual. I watched the blood, my red tears, as it oozed from the cuts. I closed my eyes and tried to think about Tom, but not even my thoughts of him were enough to take away the empty feeling that swallowed me.
I focused on the pain. Once my emotions reached their usual equilibrium of no real feeling, I cleaned myself up and tried to go to sleep. My inner thigh hurt when I moved certain ways, but I was grateful for the pain because it reminded me that I wasn't worth loving.
c Lustyville 2007 Please send comments to lustyville@yahoo.com and check out my other stories at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lustyville