Page 84 of The Golden Boy's Guide to Bipolar
The car ride this time isn’t spent in tension-filled silence. Yami and Jamal catch up the entire time, laughing and telling stories and joking around like I’m not even here. I can’t help thinking how much better off they’ll be when I’m not.
I like them like this.
But at the same time, I hate it.
By the time we get to our viewpoint and stop the truck, Bo’s car is already waiting on the empty dirt road.
Before I know it, Yami, Bo, and Jamal are all living it up outside. They lean on the hood of Bo’s car and talk for what feels like ages. It’s like they haven’t even noticed I’m still in the truck.
They finally turn their heads when I get out and shut the door hard behind me. Then I stomp off past them, not knowing where I’m going, or why I’m mad, but also not really caring.
I walk off the road through some tallish grass and bushes before sitting down in the middle of nowhere and hugging my knees to my chest, resting my head between my legs.
I can hear the grass moving in the distance as someone gets closer and closer, but I don’t look up.
“I thought this was what you wanted,” Jamal says.
Of course it’s Jamal. And thank God he doesn’t seem to remember Saturday night.
I feel the earth shift next to me as he sits down by my side, waiting for an answer I don’t give.
“You can’t do everything in your power to make sure you have nothing to do with any of us, then get mad when we respect your boundaries.” Jamal doesn’t sound mad. He never does. His voice is calm as ever, despite the words coming out of his mouth.
I finally look up to find his ever-intense eyes trained on me. “Shit, Jamal... ,” I say, feeling a lump forming in my throat. Thisiswhat I wanted. So why the hell am I so unhappy? “I know I’ve been an asshole. If we lived in a different world, maybe... maybe things would have turned out different.”
Jamal’s lips quirk into a small smile. “Is this your way of trying to apologize?”
“What? No. I’m not apologizing,” I say. I know it sounds harsh, but I’m not going to apologize for something I would do again if given the chance. I did what I had to do, and no matter how much I hate it, no matter how much it hurts, I would do it again.
If I needed to hurt Jamal to get him to stop loving me, then that’s what I had to do. There’s no use apologizing. In fact, that would only make it worse. Still, I wish there was something Icould say to make him feel better about all of this. “I never wanted to hurt you,” I admit.
“I know,” Jamal says, but I don’t buy it. How could he be so sure, after everything I did, that my intentions were good? “But you did,” he adds.
“I know,” I say. “This is why you’re better off without me.”
Jamal lets out a little breath of a laugh through his nose at that. “And you’re better off without me.”
I meet his eyes again to check if he’s serious. Like always, he is. “How?” I ask. How am I possibly better off without Jamal?
He just looks at me for a moment like the answer is obvious. “You hate yourself when you’re with me. And as much as I love you, I can’t love you out of hating yourself.”
I open my mouth to answer, but nothing escapes. I do hate myself, but how can he possibly think that’s because of him?
“I mean... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said I love you. I didn’t mean to cross a boundary. I just—”
“I love you too,” I blurt out. “But you’re right. I hate myself. Not because of you, but I do and you should too, so we can’t be together. I want what’s best for you, and that’s not me.”
Jamal’s quiet again for a while. I expect him to give me his usual “I understand,” but he doesn’t. “You’re wrong.” He shakes his head. “You’re so wrong.”
“You’rewrong,” I shoot back. “I’m a fucking mess. All I’ve done is hurt you. I don’t deserve you. I never did, and you know it.”
Jamal lets out a measured breath. “I won’t say what I want to say right now because I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Just say it,” I challenge him.
“You don’t want to hear it.”
“Or you don’t really want to say it.”
