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“Thank you,” I say politely.
I feel like a stranger in my own home. In my own life.
This house that we built together feels like a fading memory. It feels like a house, not a home. Walls that used to be filled with our love and best moments, rooms that were filled with our conversation and laughter…now they hold the memories over my head, reminding me what I used to have but don’t anymore.
I grab a piece of pizza and walk to the living room to eat. I turn on the TV to a random football game and watch mindlessly while I eat. About ten minutes pass before Mads walks into the room and says, “I’m going to shower and go to sleep. Night.” Without a glance at me or another word, she walks up the stairs and out of sight.
I let out a frustrated breath and hold back my tears. The pain in my chest returns.
I feel like I am that broken kid again. Waking up to nothing, going to sleep to nothing, and nothing in between. My nightmares wake me almost every night, and I have no comfort to hold onto during those moments.
The constant quiet makes me feel hopeless again, unseen again, unloved again. Before I know it, I am crying. Crying almost as hard as I cried the moment I heard that Mads was in a car accident and she was currently in surgery.
That time, I was crying for Mads. I was crying for the future she might not have. I was crying for fear of her life.
This time, I’m crying for me. I’m crying because I’m terrified. I’m terrified that the joy and love I felt in my life are gone for good. I’m crying because I feel like the lonely, scared little boy who had no one and nothing to live for.
Before I know it, I am in my car. I text Mads to tell her that I am running to the store real quick, but I end up in front of Ana and David’s apartment.
I knock on their door, not knowing what to say if and when it opens. I wipe my face with my hands and try to calm my breathing. I know I look like a mess right now, but I can’t give a shit. David answers the door, smiling when he sees it is me but his face quickly falls when he takes in my expression.
“Hey man, can I come in?” I ask in a rough voice.
“Of course, come in. Can I get you anything?” He questions as he closes the door behind me. Their apartment is huge and spacious.
“I could use something strong right now,” I answer. He nods and walks to the kitchen, while I walk to their couch and drop down.
I hear footsteps hurrying from down the hall and Ana turns the corner. “Elliot, what’s wrong?” She rushes over to me and sits down next to me, grabbing my hand.
“I can’t do this anymore, Ana,” I croak, my voice breaking. The tears come back in full force. I pull my hand away, lean forward and bury my head in my hands. David returns with a glass of what I assume is whiskey. I take a healthy sip and choke it down, welcoming the burn. “It’s empty, lifeless, and dark in that house. In me. I swear, I’m not going to make it,” I say harshly.
Ana looks at me with concern. She waits a few moments before responding, “Have you talked to her about this yet?”
“We don’t talk about anything, Ana. We don’t talk. We say hello and goodbye, and nothing else.” I finish the whiskey and David takes my glass. “I tried so hard to talk to her. To get her talking. But I eventually gave up when I realized she was just giving me one word answers, or pity comments and fake smiles when I talked about us.”
David returns with more whiskey, but I don’t drink anymore.
“I don’t know what else to do. I’ve given her space. So much space that I feel like I’ll never be able to get close to her again. I’ve tried to encourage her to find a therapist or psychologist, but she won’t even entertain that conversation. She won’t even call her old therapist. The only time she is remotely close to her old self is when she’s with you or her parents.” I look up at the ceiling and take a breath. “I feel like a burden. I feel unwanted. I feel empty,” I confess. I didn’t realize how much I had been holding in, how much frustration, how much anger I had been shoving down and locking inside of me. I pushed all of my own feelings aside in order to accommodate Mads and what she needed and felt.
David sits and they both look at me in silence. I know that they are waiting to see if I have anything else to say. I don’t. “Have you told her about your past at all?” Ana asks gently.
“No,” I scoff. “I’ve told you, the last thing she needs is more depression.”
“Your story is a part of who you are, Elliot. And who you are is a part of your relationship with Maddie. She might understand you better if you shared that with her,” Ana presses. David absentmindedly rubs her back.
“I already shared that with her. She was the first person I ever shared anything with,” I bark. Both of their eyes widen before they look down. I know that they are not used to me raising my voice at all. Hell, I’m not used to raising my voice at all. “I’m sorry,” I cry, closing my eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to direct my frustration at you two.”
“This is a safe space, brother. You know that.” Safe space, I think. I cry more at those words. I remember when Mads said them to me, years ago. I remember the feeling of security she placed over me. She was my safe space.
“Elliot, I’m going to be real with you. Escúchame.” Listen to me. “You’ve been tiptoeing around each other for months now. You both have. You are both afraid to speak up, you’re afraid to upset each other. You are both not yourselves. Mads doesn’t remember your relationship. That sucks. But you haven’t been the man she fell in love with, either. You have been a scared and watered-down version of yourself. I know you’re doing that to try and make her comfortable. But obviously that’s not working. You both stopped fighting for each other. You need to grow some ovaries, and start fighting for your marriage. Start fighting for your wife.” Her eyes blaze into mine.
I feel a spark in my chest at Ana’s words. It feels foreign for a moment, it feels like a shock after having nothing but coldness, dread and emptiness inside me for so long now.
“You’re right,” I breathe. I lean forward, resting my head in my hands.
“You two have always had intense passion in your relationship. What you’ve never had is timidity and passivity. It might take time to get there again, but you’re not going to get there if you don’t actually try. I mean really try, cabrón.” Dumbass. I’ve picked up enough Spanish over the years to know that one. David looks at her disbelievingly and she raises her arms as if to say ‘what?’.
“You’re right. You’re right,” I declare as I stand up.
