Page 131 of Faking Forever 1
He was caught and there was no time to find a lie to cover up their actions. He didn’t bother thinking of anything and had that same guilty face he always used to get me to do things for him.
“Joshua… your mother and I have only been doing this for a few weeks now. I’m not sure I even know what I’m doing.”
“At this point, Dad, I don’t carewhyyou guys are doing it. Once I’m gone, it’s not going to matter anyway. It just would’ve been nice to have a heads up on the plan,” I say in a soft voice, matching the quietness of the room.
“Son—you have to understand how it feels to sneak around and…it’s like we’re teenagers again. I’ve been through hell and back with your mother.”
Should we go toe-to-toe on who’s better at sneaking around? Because I’ve yet to be caught.
“Have either of you considered how it would make me feel?
I’m a product of both of you. The divorce didn’t improve my life, either. I’m just getting used to it and now I’m walking in on you nearly nailing her in your office, Pop.That’sconfusing.”
I gulp down the rest of my word vomit. Now, it was all coming to the surface.
“Sotalkto me, kid.” He pushes his words.
“I just—I can’t.” I stand up from the table, pushing the chair behind me. “I gotta go. I gotta get out of here,” I say, leaving everything behind me and slipping my phone into my back pocket.
He couldn’t make me confess how I felt. Never. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I feel like it’s my fault or that all my delinquency drove his wife away. It doesn’t help that the 316
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moment I’m on my way out of the door, she’s magically back around. She didn’t even have time to tell me she was happy about my acceptance into Vermont when I texted her about it. I have half a right to believe she never wanted me. When I stopped being her perfect little boy, I stopped being important.
The more I turned into my pop, the more she despised me.
I eventually accepted that impressing her might not ever be achieved because I wasn’t successful from the start. I’m happyto have never received the treatment from both parents, but it doesn’t make up for anything. She doesn’t know that I seek validation from other moms or that sometimes I cry about needing to hear something from her and not just my dad for once. I want her to want to be in my life. If all else fails, Ineedthe woman I marry to want to be in our child’s life.
* * *
When I get my Jeep back, I might never stop driving it because I miss it so badly. I hate that the storm took everything away. The shop, my Jeep, and even my phone. I only have one of three back while I’m impatiently waiting for the rest. The rental car helps, but every now and then, I’ve been taking the store truck that happened to make it through the storm. I took it to the beach, leaving my dad to finish dinner alone, for a nice walk. Mentally, I was counting down until I felt it was reasonable to head to Paisley’s.
I used to hate to be alone. Every quiet second is another second that you’re thinking about what the problem is, if not multiple, all at once. When I learned about meditation at camp and why silence was a good thing, I stopped thinking it was harmful. The more silence there is, the more time you have to space out each thought, or better yet, not think at all. Being quiet and taking in the world is similar to having a power that 317
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can only be acquired through self-improvement. You get tired of arguing and trying your best to be correct, starting to accept that in this life, you will have to be wrong—a lot.
This is why I can’t find the energy to yell and make a fool of myself or lie about what I want in this life. I was only pretending to be Paisley’s boyfriend because, in reality, it wasn’t pretending. Iwaspretending when I nearly got my nose broken and when I almost had to jump across a picnic table to punch out a jealous piece of shit guy. The resurgence of these feelings related to my family is a reminder that I also have unprocessed traumas to work through. My anger and stubbornness will take me out before making any dumb decisions.
I go to places that make me feel safe when things aren’t feeling safe in the real world. The beach and the boardwalk are always the first places that come to mind. They both hold many wholesome memories. Especially the old bench that Paisley and I always used to sit on, right where I decided to go this evening.
“Guess we had the same idea coming here.” Beau magically appears, sitting next to me.
So much for alone time.
“You don’t say,” I mutter under my breath, looking down at my lap.
“Josh, I’m sorry, man. I know it doesn’t take back everything I said, but you have to believe me. I’ve had theworstoutbursts in the past. So have you. You get it?”
That means he’ll do it again with no remorse. He probably isn’t sober as we speak. I’m losing my best guy friend to the bottle in real-time. What do you say to someone who’s diluted by their own habits?
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“C’mon, man, I’m throwing you a bone and you’re not hitting me back?” He lightly backhands my leg, nudging me to find him entertaining, but I was over the gag before it began.
