Less Than Perfect Circumstance (8 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THIS THING CALLED
LOVE

Trevor

It’s 5 a.m., and while I should be asleep, like you and most of America, I can’t. I keep doing this to myself. I find myself anticipating your calls, and checking to see if you did call and I had missed it. While I occupied my time with friends, you assumed I was out doing other things. You know the latter is not true. I call to offer you an explanation but those calls went unanswered. Do I even owe you an explanation? We have both gotten so accustomed to saying “I love you” bef
ore going to bed

at least I had

and I still expected that much from you. Maybe you feel those words are no longer needed.

I paused.

I held the pencil gently in my hand between tired fingers. I
realized, as I lay in the dark
unable to sleep, that what happened, what had happened so many times before, had become so normal for Kelvin. His phone calls were rare, and now, I might as well accept that all other
methods of communication had become useless. There was someone else in Kelvin’s life, occupying his time. I needed Kelvin to come clean. Regardless of what I knew,
what I hoped wasn’t true
,
I still loved Kelvin
.

I found myself holding on to the little that was left between Kelvin and me, and the more I tried to hold on, the further I felt him pulling away. I didn’t like where things were going, but I felt it was inevitable.

I had a vivid mind, and well, tonight it got the best of me
. I felt tired

tired of hurting

and the more I thought, the more I realized that the hurt I felt was self-inflicted.  I didn’t know what to do. We haven’t had the chance to sit and really talk about things, and there was so much left unsaid.

Kelvin knew I loved him. I knew no matter how hard I tried, the feelings I had for him didn’t seem to be going anywhere. I wasn’t near Kelvin to show him just how much I still loved him
, but I told him every chance I
got. Maybe that was part of the problem.  Could it be true? Had Kelvin found what he was looking for in someone else? What hurt the most was that I would have to face the fact that what I had known all along was true. Nothing was going to lessen the pain of Kelvin’s disclosure. If this was true, we needed closure. There was no way I could keep this up anymore.

Sadness overtook me. I thought about what I would say if Kelvin were to admit to finding someone else to love. Though I had convinced
myself I would wish them the best, tell Kelvin to always look his new man in the eyes and smile, so he knows that being with him made him happy, secretly I knew I would be wishing that the man Kelvin loved was still me.

I wasn’t sure what kept me from sharing my thoughts with Kelvin. May it was fear, or love, or fear of not being in love that kept me silent. No matter
how many times I had been hurt

and Kelvin had done some th
ings that have cut me very deep

retaliating had never crossed my mind.

I remembered one year I was looking forward to a Valentine’s Day I knew would be filled with things I wouldn’t soon forget. It was a cold January evening. February was approaching fast, and I still hadn’t finalized my plans. So much had been going on that the simple task of making reservations had slipped my mind. The next morning when I saw the note remind
ing
me of things I needed to get do
ne, I quickly reserved a table
f
or two at
one of my favorite restaurants. It had the best ambiance and, of course, I wanted to share this with Kelvin. Though I had giving him
the details
, and even reminded him, Valentine’s Day still found me sitting at home, waiting. Kelvin’s cut and dry explanation was that he had overslept, and blamed me for everything that had gone wrong that evening. I was already disappointed. What difference was one more
blame
going to make? Though it wasn’t the Valentine’s Day I had in mind, we did spend it together
. 

CHAPTER TWELVE

WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?

Trevor

Simply put, I loved my dad. Robert Seymour Harrison was daddy and mommy whenever I neede
d him to be.  I’ve never met my
mother. Her name was Clara Rene Harrison. She died from complications during childbirth. For a long time, I blamed myself for my mother’s death. As far as I was concerned, she was fine until I came along, so it must have been something I did. I had a hard time understanding my innocence in my mother’s unfortunate accident, no matter how tirelessly my father tried to explain.

Birthdays were met with different emotions; a bittersweet celebration as my father and grandparents trying as hard as they could to do more celebrating than mourning. It was hard fo
r us to separate the two events

my birth and my mother’s death. Often I thought about the decision they all made, and I was grateful that my mother had chosen my life over hers.

I sat in the chair at my computer and thought about writing my father a few lines, just to see how he was doing. After realizing that I had not even shared th
e news of the contract with him

and I
ha
d told just about everyone else

I decided to call.

“Speak!” he commanded.

My father had an unusual way of answering his cell phone.

“Dad, how’s it going?”

“Hey, Rene. W
hat’s going on big man?”

My father was the only person who, today, uses my middle name whenever we talked. After my mother passed, my father decided to name me in honor of her memory. He wanted to make certain she was never forgotten. He wanted something of my mother to continue with me, as if his love, my birth, and the fact that I re
sembled my mother in every way were
n’t enough. Rene became my middle name, pronounced slightly different of course.
I was named Trevor to honor my
grandfather. I wore both names with unmatched pride. 

“Not much going on, dad. I haven’t spoken to you in few days. I have good news.”

“You met a woman and you’re getting married?” Robert joked.

“Funny, dad, but no, that’s not it.”

If I didn’t know my father as well as I did, I would have thought he was serious.

“Then what is it?”

He knew marriage wasn’t a part of whatever good news I had to share. I gave my father a more abbreviated version
of the story I
had shared with Denise and Kelvin. Regardless, my father was just as proud.

So many times I felt no one else understood me better than my father did. I couldn’t ever remember my father not being there to share in my accomplishments or my failure
s
. He was always there with encouraging words. He was my biggest fan. When I needed a father, Robert Seymour was there. When I needed a mother, both her spirit and my father were there, too.

“Congratulations, son! You know how proud I am of you.”

“Dad, you do realize that’s exactly what you said when I won the 7
th
grade Spelling Bee.”

“Yes, I remember, and I’m even more proud now. So what else is happening? How are things with you and Kelvin?”

My father surprised
m
e
. Usually he would simply ask if I were ok. Since I tol
d him of our breakup, he
rarely mentioned Kelvin’s name to me.

“Kelvin and I are fine, dad. He was in New York for a couple days, and he’s actually planning on visiting this weekend.”

“Are you ok with that?” Robert paused, giving me just enough time to think about the question and my response.

“You mean with him coming? Of course I am. It’s been too long.”

“Feelings are still there, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course they are,” Robert agreed.

It’s during these conversations
that I felt I was talking to my
best friend and not my father. I was happy my father and my best friend were one and the same. 

“I love him with all my heart.”

I surprised even myself with my admission. I couldn’t believe what I had just said to my father, but in all honesty, Robert already knew the feelings I had for this man.

“I feel you, big man. Distance doesn’t work in all relationships.”

Admittedly, hearing my father call me a big man during this conversation was somewhat weird.

“Well, apparently he couldn’t handle the distance. I didn’t have a problem with it. Even though he assured me it would work, everything changed slowly after he moved.”

“I hear you. Did you ever think about moving?”

“When he moved, dad, we had it all planned out. But I guess not everything we plan actually works out.”

“So you’re going to come up for air after he leaves?”

I laughed. It amused me to hear my father talk so openly.

“Exactly!” I replied through laughter, and I could almost see my

dad
smiling.

“I’m not stupid. Been there, done that. There’s nothing like making love to your ex, especially if the feelings are still there.”

What does he know about making love to your ex?
I thought to myself. I couldn’t recall my father ever mentioning being with any other woman besides my mother. Nevertheless, I was sure there must have been a few. According to my grandmother, my father was a heartbreaker in his day, and I must admit, he still is.

“I can’t explain it, dad.”

“You don’t owe me any explanation. I understand. It’s going to take you a while to get over it. In fact, you may never get over it.”

“Is that how you feel about mom?”

I hoped
my inquisition hadn’t stirred unwelcome
d
feelings in my father’s heart. I just wanted to know.

“Your mom was the love of my life,” Robert admitted.

“Most people don’t understand. They think I am stupid because Kelvin seemed to have moved on, yet I can’t bring myself to do the same.”

“Are you worried about what people think? I’m not going to say that you have to get over it,” Robert added. “If you are ok with the way you’re dealing with the situation, you don’t have anything to worry about. The question is
,
how long is this going to last, especially since you say that Kelvin seemed to have moved on?”

“I can’t put a timetable on it. Maybe getting over him simply means just putting whatever feelings I have aside and trying to move on as well.”

That’s the only response I could come up with.

“Especially since you know what’s really going on with him. You will in time.”

“I think if we had ended the relationship before he relocated, it would have been easier. But like I said, we had plans.”

“Yeah, but you don’t want to let go, do you? That’s what bothers you the most. Help me. Tell me if I am wrong,” my father pleaded.

I appreciated my father for what he was attempting to do.

“It’s not that I don’t want to let go. I don’t think I am ready to. I do know that
,
eventually, I’ll have to. If I hadn’t given my heart to him the wa
y I have, it would’ve been easy

or at least easier.”

“But son, love and life is never easy. Anyone who tells you otherwise, has never loved nor lived.”

“This is so hard. I’ve ended relationships in the past
,
and have gotten over them with no problem.”

“Honestly speaking, son, I don’t think you actually loved in those past relationships. It could be that you don’t have control over your emotions like you did before, and it is scary. Isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Such is life.”

“True.”

“But you will be ok.”

My father gave me the reassurance I had been looking for. Its one thing to try and convince myself everything will work out, and even
though I know in my
heart that it
will
, it was good to actually hear someone els
e say it. I realized how much I
loved talking to my father.

“I’m sure I will, dad.”

“You will. Just try not to isolate yourself in the process. It’s all about time. I should say, time and timing.”

“Ok.”

“Love you, big man.”

“Thanks for talking, dad. Love you, too.”