Page 89 of Poems He Wrote

“I’m…okay,” I lie, swallowing boulders in my throat.

“Noah?” Ronan speaks to me, looking into my eyes, searching for something inside, but I know there’s nothing to be found there. It’s allgone.

“I…take care of my brother,” I say looking into Corey’s eyes again. “I have to leave.”

“Yeah, man. I will, I promise.”

I stride past him, heading back into the house. Many of the people have left in our time on the balcony. It’s almost empty now. Good. Way less people to witness my falling apart hour. Ronan runs after me, as he says one more strained ‘I’m sorry’ to her.

My head is down, hiding the sting in my eyes. A shoulder knocks into me. I know the hardness of it, the smell of the person it belongs to.

Jensen.

“You have a good man out there,” I say, throwing my thumb over my shoulder, pointing to the back porch. “Make sure he knows what you feel. At all times. Never hide from him.”

“Are you okay, Noah?” My younger brother grabs my shoulders, but I twist out of his grasp.

“No.”

That’s the only thing I manage to say without my voice breaking on a cry. I squeeze his wrist once, as I walk past him, something like a small tradition the two of us made growing up. Every time we were asked that question, we squeezed each other's wrists as our way of saying ‘I’ll try my best to be’. He nods his head once, before watching me go.

Ronan follows me up to my car, calling for me all the way there, but I can’t stop. I can’t let her look at me, can’t let her speak to me. What if it all was a lie to her? I can’t let her lie some more.

I unlock the car, rushing into it. I sit in silence, the tiny lamp in front of my rear view mirror shining brightly. I feel Ronan’s hand on my shoulder, and it burns. It scorches the skin under my shirt.

“Noah, please!” She cries, and cries, and I want to comfort her, butwhat about me?

“Can we just go home, please?”

“Will you let me…”

“Please, let’s just go home. I need…I don’t want to listen. I don’t want to speak. Can we go home, please?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles, putting her seat belt on.

I start the car, trying my best to be as composed as possible. I shouldn’t be driving like this, with the possibility of running us into a ditch so high, but I have to. I have to get away. I need to be alone. My palms are sweaty on the wheel, but I’m holding on tight, like it’s my lifeline. I glance at Ronan, her face puffy with tears, saltwater dried on her cheeks.

My head is swarming with questions. Is this supposed to be love? How is it love if it’s built on a lie? Did she lie about that too? But I have an answer for one of them only.

Why does it feel like I'm dying?

Because it was real for me. From the first touch to the last kiss, it was real for me.

Itisreal for me.

***

Rain washes over us once we are back at Oaks Creek. We step out of the car in front of Ronan’s apartment. I don’t know who is the one breaking apart more, her or me. And though I can only feel the pain in my heart, I can see hers on her face.

Taking her hand, I lead her into the building, shielding her from the downpour. She squeezes my palm tightly, as if I’m about to disappear into thin air, which I might actually do. She jiggles her front door keys, her hands shaking immensely. I cover her hand with mine, still trying to soothe her, the image of me doing the same thing on the first night I had her slams into my head.

Once we are inside, there’s not much around us but pitch darkness. The shadows cast from the lights outside dance all over the walls. My mind must be playing tricks on me, because all of them look like they are laughing at me.

Ha, ha, Noah is a fool.

Ha, ha, look at him.

Ronan walks into her kitchen and flickers one of the smoldering lights on. Soft glow covers her face, showing me the mess on it. It hurts to look at her like that, but being betrayed hurts more. How could she?

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