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What I’m seeing is intense, passionate, and as Beyoncé’s haunting voice sounds out over the speaker system I find myself transfixed, because right here and now Dax shows me the true depths of his heart.
He. Floors. Me.
He transforms, telling me his story step by agonising, heart-breaking, step. He shows me the loneliness he felt as a child, the walls he built to protect himself from his parents, and I let out a strangled cry as he falls to his knees, curls over and clasps the back of his head as though protecting himself from the ghost of his father, from the punches and the kicks, from the harsh words and the hate. He never really talked about what happened to him when we were kids, though we all knew only too well just how bad his home life was. The bruises, the stiffness in the way he used to hold himself. The way he hid beneath his caps and hoodies. The rage that would take him over when it all got too much. We knew, we saw, and we did our best to help him, to heal him with friendship and love.
But that kind of abuse, that kind of betrayal and hurt, it never leaves you. It stays with you. It’s a black stain, a curse that haunts your dreams. It drags you down, takes hold of you until the only way to cope with the pain is to either turn it in on yourself or on someone else. Violence from a parent, from someone who’s supposed to love you, it leaves a lasting wound that never,everheals. I know that. Iunderstand.
Dax covers his head, his body visibly shaking as he reaches up with one arm, his hand opening and closing to the beat of the music. This is the boy he was. The beaten and bruised kid, begging for it to stop. This is the child who had nothing until he had the Breakers, until he had me. The guilt I feel in this moment is like a stranglehold around my throat, because I walked away from him, from the rare, precious gift of his love. Stuffing my hand over my mouth, I force the sob back down because Dax never cries,never. At this moment I want to be there for him, to be his strength when he finally lets it all go, because I feel it coming. That glass jar is about to shatter and all that he is will rain down over me. I need to catch him when he falls.
But right now he needs me to see, tounderstand, and not get lost in my own emotions.
So that’s what I do.
Iseehim, and like last night when I opened myself up to the Breakers, he does the same now.
It's a gift. A messy, glorious, complicated gift that I accept wholeheartedly.
Dax slams his fists onto the floor in time to the beat of the song, then lifts his head and pins me with his stare. Our gazes clash and I feeleverything. All the damage inside of him comes tumbling out in that one look. I watch him crawl towards me, hauling himself forward on his forearms in time to the beat, dragging his legs behind him as he slams his fists onto the wooden boards.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Then he slowly rises, pushing up on his hands and knees, climbing to his feet. He unfurls, transforming from a broken boy to a fearless man. He stands tall, strong,proud, leaving behind that beaten down boy. With a heaving chest, Dax jerks his chin, grits his jaw, then flings his arms wide, tipping his head back.
Beyonce sings about walls crashing down and with every beat of the song, he stamps his feet on the floor, his fists clenched, his arms held out to his sides. I watch him in awe as he squashes the brutality of his childhood beneath his feet, letting it go with every step.
“Dax,” I lament, my feet moving towards him of their own accord. Like a magnetic force, I feel the pull, and I can’t seem to stop myself. I don’t want to.
With glistening eyes, Dax offers me the hand of friendship just like he did when I met him that first time in the basement of Jackson Street, just like that boy—a complete stranger—who let me rest my head on his shoulder, who gave me comfort.
“Kid,” he croaks out, his fingers flexing, his gaze focused and fierce on mine. A single tear slides down his cheek, but I don’t see weakness.
I see strength.
I see the man I’ve loved most of my life letting go of all the shit. He’s showing me the power of forgiveness. He forgives me for hurting him, for leaving him.
That one single tear eviscerates his past hurts and bad decisions, just like it eviscerates mine.
It's time to heal.
I don’t hesitate, Irun, leaping into his arms.
