Strong Enough

Shouldn’t I have been glad? After all, this had been my plan from the start. He was making this easy for me, leaving of his own accord and not forcing me to ask him to go. Because whatever this was, it had to end soon. I’d never been in denial about that, never once considered that anything more could come of this. As good as it was, nothing could.

But still—I didn’t want to let him go. I wasn’t ready yet. He wasn’t out of my system.

I couldn’t say that to him, of course. But what I could do was be a dick about the apartments we saw that afternoon. And I was. Both of them were perfectly fine and either would have suited him, but I shot down his enthusiasm by finding things wrong at every possible opportunity.

Sure it’s close to public transportation, but not much else. God, this place is noisy—listen to that traffic!

The kitchen is okay, but the tiles in the bathroom are all cracked.

See that stain on the ceiling? That means a leak.

This carpet looks like it hasn’t been replaced since the fall of the Berlin Wall.

Definitely better in the photos online.

Even so, Maxim liked the second place well enough to leave a deposit in cash and sign a lease. It was mostly furnished, since the previous owner had left suddenly for a job out of the country, so he could move right in on Monday. All he’d really need were some new sheets and towels, which he planned to buy this week.

Inside the dingy little office of the complex manager, I watched him sign the lease with a panicky sense of dread. He was really going. I’d be alone again. Alone and drifting and scared I’d never find this kind of connection with anyone else. My throat was so dry. I wanted to speak, but couldn’t. Wanted to tell him not to sign, not to go, not to leave me. I wanted him to need me, because who else would?

Are you fucking crazy? You can’t say any of those things! You shouldn’t even be feeling them. What the fuck is wrong with you? He wants to leave, and you need to let him live his life. He didn’t come here for you, asshole. Now pull yourself together!

Summoning every ounce of strength, I pressed my lips together to keep myself from saying anything stupid. I co-signed the lease. I pushed back at the feelings trying to surface, feelings of inevitable loss and loneliness. Feelings of w

armth and affection. Feelings of what if and I wish and maybe we could. I drowned them without mercy at the bottom of my heart.

I couldn’t let myself hope. I just couldn’t.

“You like it, right?” Maxim asked as we walked back to the car.

“It’s fine.”

“I think it’s perfect. I know the carpet is pretty worn and the appliances aren’t new, but it’s good enough for me.”

It’s not. It’s not.

“And I’m glad you came, because I needed to hear the other side to make a good decision.”

“Yeah.”

“God, I can’t believe it.” He stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk and shook his head. “I signed a lease on an apartment here. It doesn’t seem real!”

“Congratulations,” I said shortly.

“How far from the ocean are we?” He looked around as if he might be able to spot it.

“Maybe five, ten miles.”

“Really? That’s it?” He smiled, his cheeks flushing. “It’s probably no big deal to you, but I grew up so far from the water, the ocean has always been something exotic and incredible to me. As a kid, I used to dream about living on a coast, even before I knew what I wanted to do. And when I learned that there was a place near the ocean called City of Angels, and it was where stories were brought to life for people to watch all over the world, I knew that’s where I wanted to live. At the time, it seemed impossible.”

“Well, you did it.” I wanted so badly to be happy for him, but all I could think of was myself. God, I’m such an asshole.

“I did it. I’m doing it.”

By the time we got in the car, I’d made up my mind to say something supportive. “You should be really proud of yourself, Maxim. Plenty of people talk about dreams and never do anything about it.”

“Well, they should. Because it feels really good.” He looked at me. “Did you make an appointment to see that house?”

“Not yet.” I started the car, focusing my attention on the rearview mirror as I backed out.