Buy Me a Drink - 11. Chapter 10

“But you’re not in love with him, Aaron” Jake says gently. “You’re in love with Ben. Mick is just your fall back guy, your safety net. He’s the sensible choice – and I’m not saying he’s the wrong choice – but I’ve seen the way you look at both of them and for better or worse it’s Ben all the way right now.”

I can’t think for several minutes. When I finally do…

“Jake?” I ask in a dazed voice.

“Yeah Aar,” he responds putting a consoling hand on my shoulder.

“You didn’t answer my question. Is he in love with me?”

“Would it matter?”

“Would it matter?”

What a ridiculous question! Of course it would matter! How could it not matter?

“Well yeah!” I blurt out, breaking out of my overwhelmed daze.

“How so?” Jake prods.

“What do you mean ‘how so’?” I demand. “It would change everything!”

“How??” Jake questions again. “Be specific.”

I just glare at him for awhile and then knock over a pile of newspapers in frustration.

“If he were in love with me, I’d be with him,” I say simply, never meaning it more.

“Even though we just established that you aren’t in love with him?” Jake asks for confirmation.

“Yeah,” I respond quietly.

“Sorry, wrong answer,” Jake responds.

“What?!?” I ask/demand in shock.

“Well, I was hoping you’d say something to the effect of, ‘I would probably fall instantly in love with him if I knew he felt that way.’ I wouldn’t have believed you, but I would have preferred that answer,” Jake explains, lightly flinging beer caps against the wall in frustration. “Now I obviously can’t tell you. It wouldn’t benefit either of you, and you’d both be hurt in the long run.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” I object desperately.

“Yes, you would,” he says firmly.

“FUCK!” I shout standing up and pacing…bad idea.

“Dude, calm down,” Jake says with alarm as he rushes over to me and tries to help me back on my feet. Well what did you expect me to do but trip in this dump?

That’s the straw that broke the camel’s back…or more accurately the pile of books that painfully twisted my ankle. I pull my hands away from him and sink back onto (into?) the floor.

“Damn it, Jake! This isn’t fair, you have to tell me!” I bark. Then I do something completely unreasonable and childish. I throw an actual tantrum. Complete with yelling and pounding my hands and feet against the floor (and junk). Jake just stands there and lets me have at it for awhile, but eventually – after I wear myself down – he simply slides to the floor himself.

“It’s not fair, Jake,” I say in a quieter voice.

“I know, bud,” he says gently as he offers me a swig of his beer…I don’t think I’ve ever been more repulsed in all my life.

As I slowly compose myself something dawns on me. Jake doesn’t need to tell me. Mick must be in love with me or Jake would have simply told me he wasn’t and spared us both all this anguish.

“Don’t be so sure, man,” he says cryptically when he notices my facial expression. “All I really know is that you need to talk to Mick.”

“But…”

“That’s it, Aar.”

And I guess it was, because he then proceeded to grab each of my shoulders and yank me to my feet. Then he walked to the front door, opened it, and looked pointedly at me. I stared at him in shock for awhile, but eventually I realized that quite clearly he now considered our conversation over.

“You missed sociology,” Mick says.

And Biology for that matter – stupid Gen. Ed. course – but he doesn’t need to know that.

After lunch Ronnie took me back home and I went straight to Jake’s from there.

“Yeah, sorry. I uhh, had to talk to someone,” I fumble.

”Ben,” he says with a smile. Damn! I really should call him.

At this point I can either lie to him again and feel like dirt, or I can be honest with him and tell him the truth – which is of course that I was avoiding him – and make us both feel like dirt.

“I’m not feeling all that great. Listen, don’t worry about me or anything, but I think I’m going to go take a nap.”

Yep, when in doubt opt for the slippery slope known as half-truths and artful misdirection.

“What’s wrong?” He looks concerned. Great, now I get to feel like shit about yet another thing.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. –Physical– I just need to go lie down.” In the bed of nails I’ve made for myself.

“Do you have a headache?” He press, “Or like a sore throat?”

“No! I said I was fine! I’m just tired, okay!” I blurt out angrily.

“Yeah, okay.”

He doesn’t look convinced…more like worried as hell and hurt that I yelled at him for no reason.

Forty-five minutes later I’m lying in bed when there’s a knock on my door.

“Aaron?” Mick’s soft voice says through the door. “Can I come in?”

Well, ‘no’ isn’t really an option worth exploring here is it?

“Yeah, it’s open.”

“Hey,” he says softly as he walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

He made that sound like such a genuine question. Not like, he was demanding that I do just that, or like it was some kind of foregone conclusion that I would. It was just an honest question, ‘you wanna tell me what’s wrong?’ You know…I think I do.

“Oh Mick…” I say in a desperate, anguished voice as I sit up and wrap my arms around him, crying into his neck.

For several minutes he just holds me, gently rubbing my back as I sob lightly.

“Your problems aren’t really there, Aaron,” He finally whispers into my ear.

That’s so him. So sweet, so comforting, so funny. God I feel like shit.

Finally I pull back enough to look at him. When I do I see that there’s nothing but concern…and love on his face. Suddenly there’s not a doubt in my mind that he is indeed in love with me. That he has been all along.

“What’s wrong?” He repeats quietly, holding my hand.

There are so many things that are wrong right now…so many things that are completely and utterly fucked up, but I guess when it comes down to it there’s only one that really matters.

“I’m in love with Ben,” I choke out, unable to look him in the eye any longer.

I know none of it made sense to him. Hell, most of it was unintelligible whimpers and sobs in the first place. After I collapsed into another violent crying fit, Mick simply held on. After awhile he eased me back into a laying position and then just settled in too.

Lying there with him was definitely a turning point in our relationship. I’m sure by now you’ve gotten the impression that I’m some sort of hysterical freak who cries every five minutes. Not the case. I don’t think I had cried in three years before today – which I’ve taken enough psychology courses to know probably isn’t healthy at my age. Maybe that’s why it all came pouring out as I was lying there with the one person I completely trust.

It wasn’t just the stuff with Mick, none of which I actually ended up telling him, it was everything else too. It was mostly fear. Fear of what was going to happen with Ben, fear of what was going to happen with me. Who am I? Who am I really? It seems like my concept of myself and what’s supposed to be happening in my life is spinning and changing more quickly than I’ve ever experienced. The truth is I’m scared as hell. Ben is going to hurt me. It’s inevitable. I know it in my heart. I know it as surely as I know that Mick won’t.

I have no business with a guy like Ben. None. I don’t think I’ll feel like I belong with him. I don’t think I’ll ever feel like I measure up. I’m not as attractive. I’m not as confident. I’m not as rich. I’m not as socially gifted. I’m not as sexually experienced. I’ve also never done his party drugs, and I don’t end up drunk or high at the end of every evening out. All in all I feel woefully inadequate and ill-suited to him.

I have every business being with Mick though. I mean I’m sure as hell not a fraction as attractive as him either. I’m not as kind. I’m not as patient. I’m not as generous. I’m not even as intelligent. But I’ve never, not even for a moment, felt inadequate around Mick. We share the same odd-ball sense of humor and world view. We can just…be together and the silences aren’t awkward. They’re just…nice.

But Jake was right. I’m really not in love with Mick. Loving Mick is something I can’t avoid and would never want to even if I could, but there is a big difference between loving someone and being in love with them. Mick is…Mick is home and Ben is the exciting vacation, the adventure.

I meant what I said though. If Mick told me he was in love with me, if he asked me to be his…I would do it in a heartbeat. I would never leave home again. It would save us both so much misery and pain if he would only do that. I really don’t know just what he has and hasn’t worked out about his sexuality, but somehow in my heart I believe that he knows he loves me. Even if he doesn’t know he loves me…he knows he loves me. That’s why I can’t blame this one on Mick, because I know without a doubt that sexually confused, or unresolved as he may be, I could ask at any time and he would tell me that he loves me.

But he isn’t going to tell me. He would never do that, even if it killed him not to. He would know as surely as I do that telling me that would mean that I would stay with him. Stay with him for good. It would mean that every other guy would effectively and permanently be pushed from the picture. He wouldn’t have that. Not Mick. Because I’m not in love with him…and he knows it.

And I won’t ask…I won’t ask because Mick deserves better. He deserves someone who loves him passionately as well as securely. He doesn’t deserve to be a safety net, or a fall back, or even a home. He deserves to be a first choice. He deserves to be an adventure. And as much as I do love him I also want that adventure for myself.

So he won’t tell me. And I won’t ask. And I guess when you get right down to it, all that’s really left to do now is snuggle against his chest until morning.