(Untitled)
3am. Lucien just finished working a double at the hospital and every bone in his body feels like its filled with lead. Even getting out of his car is an effort and he virtually pours himself out of the seat and does his best to walk to the front door. All he wants is to somehow reach his bed and then sleep until some time in the afternoon.
SSWS
SSWS
It's a mine field, this, Gabe thinks. How to acknowledge it. How to handle it. How the gesture will be received. It could easily be received as a dig or, alternatively, as an overture. He doesn't want it seem like either... he just wants it to seem like a token, a reflection of the fact he does care.
So, he chooses the gift carefully. Nothing flashy or that will seem overly significant. In the end he gets a canister of fancy tea, the blend Lucien likes, and organic and ridiculously over priced for what it is, but still simple. And he gets a small box of shortbread, organic as well, and also fancy. But again simple. He wraps them carefully - presentation matters - and then considers a note to go with it.
Dear Lucien,
[Well. That's a start.]
Happy Birthday.
[Should he end it there? Yes? No.]
Happy Birthday, my friend.
[And then the words are flowing.]
I know it's been a difficult year for us. Please don't read too much into the word us. I'm not suggesting that there's an 'us' beyond that we're two people who once were together and whatever friendship we can forge from that - and that I suppose we're pack, though I know I'm not much good at that. I know I'm a disappointment there and I'm so sorry I let you down. But it's been a difficult year. That's what I meant to say.
I think I'm coming to the place that I know I should have come to long before this. I'm realising we won't be getting back together. You see, really, since we broke up, I've been hoping we would, dreaming (day dreaming) about it. I've always been a bit slower than other people with things like this. I know it's frustrating. Thank you for your patience with me. I know it must be a hard thing to have had me there refusing to move on. I know it can't have been easy.
I hope you can see the compliment in it. That it's because you're so special, so wonderful. You're a person I wish I was more like. You move forward. You're kind and compassionate but you're strong as well. You know how to draw lines and boundaries, not in an arsehole way at all, you balance it well. I'm terrible with those things. I'm nothing but boundaries until then I'm not and I can't draw one to save my life - literally. I don't think I've ever told you this, Luce, but I admire you so much. I look at you and what you've achieved in your life and the commitment and hard work you've put into getting there and I just admire you. I look at you and I think how I should try to be more like that. You've been hard to get over because you're so special and because I know I won't get that lucky twice.
I also wanted to say that I know I wasn't an easy person for you to be with and, looking back, I understand you tried for as long as you could. I know living with someone with depression isn't easy. We never used the word, you and I, but that's what it is, what I am. When I was growing up my mum would sit in the dark and drink and cry, I'd try to comfort her and she'd push me away, she'd be angry to be disturbed. I know now she had the same strange dark dog following her that I do, and she used wine and pills to try and medicate it away as well. I tried to fix her as a kid and I couldn't. You can't fix people. I didn't know that then.
Anyway, the point of me telling you this is that I know. I acknowledge how hard it would have been for you living with me.
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Growing up, you see, I was beaten a lot. It's just how it was. It's how things went. And then, because of that, because I was in that situation, I was an easy target for someone wanting to take advantage of that need I had for someone to be nice to me, for someone to 'love' me. And so I got taken advantage of. And I got introduced to that kind of relationship when, I'm realising now, I was too young. I'm realising now it probably shouldn't be called a relationship and I need to stop calling it that, but I can't make myself yet. Because I loved him so much, you see, and he was for so long the only person I could say with certainty loved me. It's hard for me now to accept that he didn't and that it wasn't and that it was bad.
So, way before we met, you see, I was already this person. I know you blame yourself, you think because you made the mistake you made that you ruined my life in some way. I'm telling you the above because I want you to understand that isn't true. You didn't. I was what I was before that happened. It added a layer of complexity but that's all. You did not cause it. You were not my ruin.
You remain the best thing that ever happened to me.
You are not to blame for my problems. Not at all. You are not responsible.
And I know you tried and I know I wasn't easy. I tried too.
I want to say thank you for not cutting me out of your life when I know it would have been easier. I know most people would have done it. You're not most people, Lucien. You're the best of people.
I'm not going to lie and say I'm completely over our break up and reconciled to it. I'm not going to lie and say I'm happy to hear you've moved on. Of course I'm not! I'm hurt and sad. I miss you. I miss our home and I miss our family. I thought of you as my family, you see. You and Z. I miss coming home and seeing a light on and having you there. I miss waiting to hear your car in the drive. I miss so much.
But I can say with all honesty that I do want you to be happy. And I know that isn't going to be with me. And I want you to be loved and cherished and for the person in your life to know how lucky he is to be the one who ended up with you. You deserve no less.
I'm leaving you this gift because I want to acknowledge that, to me, the world is a better place because you came into it. I wanted to celebrate that a little. I think you deserve that, Luce.
Happy Birthday, you sexy beast.
Yours,
G
...
The note and the gift he leaves on Lucien's doorstep.
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He puts it down on the table as he goes to make himself a drink first, before settling down to open it up. He nods and smiles at the thoughtful gifts. Then he opens the note.
At some point while he's reading Zirconia comes to headbutt the paper, as if he could hear his name being namechecked, even if its not read allowed. Lucien shifts and moves the sheet of paper out of reach, finishes reading.
He hesitates as he reaches for his phone. What time is it? His heart is twisting and beating out of time in his chest.
He calls Gabe anyway.
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So he hits the button on the phone, yawns without meaning to, he's been asleep.
"Hey, birthday boy. Feeling old today?"
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"I....." Lucien blinks. Fuck. He should have slept first, then called at a reasonable time. "Technically I'm still a Spring chicken. I was born at ten-twelve in the morning... Then I'll feel old."
His lip twitches in a self indulgent smile and then drops as fast. "Are you okay, Gabe?"
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Gabe sits up, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Is he OK? In a lot of ways, he's not. But in the sense of will he keep moving forward and try to get there, well, for the first time in his life, he is.
"Yeah, I'll be all right, Luce. Are you OK, honey?"
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"God, I'm sorry, I'm tired. I just got in from work and I'm not thinking straight. I should have slept on it but I wouldn't have been able to sleep and it would have been going around in my head, what if it was too late?"
He knows he's rambling, his voice is thick and his tongue seems too big to maneuver properly around his mouth. Foolish as well. Stupid. He knows Gabe better than that, but now he's going to have to admit the truth anyway.
"Gabe... I thought I was getting a suicide note."
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"Oh,"
The word hangs there for a moment, both shocked and horrified. He hadn't intended this, though now, thinking it through, all the emotion that page was filled with, he regrets leaving the letter. It was in appropriate and now with Lucien on the phone he can see how it could have been taken that way. He should have written 'Happy Birthday' and left it at that.
"No. I wouldn't have done that to you."
To you, not to himself.
"On your birthday, ruining it, and it would make it seem like... it was all about you... and I'd leave instructions for the girls, you know. To make sure they were OK. I wouldn't... I'm so sorry, Lucien. I can see how it would have been... it wasn't. Oh, God. I'm so fucking sorry. I just - I shouldn't have - I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean you to - worry. Or be upset. Or anything. It's your birthday. I'm so sorry, Lucien."
He laughs and it's an upset kind of sound.
"I just can't do anything right. I'm really fucking sorry."
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"I mean, just. Shhh..." He smiles a little and hopes it comes across in his voice. "It's fine. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one that fucked up. I'm too tired to process things right now. And I'd like to think that I know you better than that. I hope I do, but I don't know, maybe..."
Shaking himself, Lucien shrugs.
"And You know what? It's a good thing. You said it yourself, we never talked about this, we never addressed it, and we should have done. And now you've opened the gates and we can talk about it."
He stifled a yawn. "Maybe not right now. I might make more sense after I've slept. But no, its the best thing you could have given me, Gabe."
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"All right."
But he doesn't sound convinced.
"We, don't have to talk about it, Luce. I just thought you should let yourself off the hook, you know? You broke up with me, it hurts, but you didn't fuck me up or ruin my life or anything like that. The only thing I could say is I don't know you really appreciated the stuff I did that was good in our relationship... but that's it, seriously, I can't think of a single other thing I'm pissed at you about. All the other stuff you blame yourself for... it's nothing to do with you and you just need to let yourself off the hook. You shouldn't carry me around your neck as an albatross. That's all."
A pause.
"That's all."
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"No. Okay, you're right. But we can talk about it, if you wanted to. As friends, and as pack. But there's no pressure. None to talk, or to be friends, or to be pack. If you want them, then I do to, that's all."
Leaning forward, he picks at the edge of the box of tea's wrapping.
"I mean it, it was a good present."
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Lucien's right, of course. Gabe isn't a mind-reader. He can't know what Lucien thinks or feels. He's making assumptions. But at the heart of those assumptions are the fact that after pouring out what he sees as all his faults and short-comings he just wants Lucien to tell him something Lucien sees in him that's good. Something he did right. After pouring out all the things he likes and admires in Lucien he just wants something about himself in return.
It's selfish and he knows that. It's a selfish desire.
"If you ever want to talk we can talk, sure."
He finally says, after a long silence.
"If you really want to. But if you don't I understand. People don't really want to have conversations about stuff like that. And I get it. It's not... I get it. I can't say I want to either. It's just a big part of who I am... inside. Under the fixed teeth and a lot of working out and stupid clothes and whatever."
And.
"We are pack and we are friends, right? Even if I'm not that good at either. We still are."
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"I care about you. I wouldn't have called you if I didn't. No. No, don't tell me I would have done anyway because that's who I am." He preempts Gabe's reply. "Sure, I misunderstood the purpose of the letter. But if were nothing but an ex to me and I thought this was a suicide note, I wouldn't have called you because I don't give in to emotional black mail, I've seen where that gets people at work."
"I called because we're friends and pack, and part of us will always be family. And I care about you."
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"Well, I don't think you'd just let me die."
Sorry, Lucien, he really can't help himself.
"Emotional blackmail or not. I mean a person would have to be pretty fucking out of their mind to bargain their life as emotional blackmail, wouldn't they? Really?"
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
But, anyway.
"But I'm glad you called, though I'm sorry I worried you. I didn't think how you'd take it. I really should have capslocked at the bottom: I'M NOT GOING TO KILL MYSELF TODAY or something."
He laughs.
"You go to bed, Luce you sound like you need sleep. Happy Birthday, OK?"
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