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There's silence for a moment, and I know it's probably partly due to her shock at me speaking that way to her. I've always just consoled, and told her part of the truth, that they didn't deserve her in the first place. But I don't have that in me today. To soothe her pain, pacify her that someone new will come along whowill treat her better. I'm angry. I'm hurt. I'm disappointed. And unfortunately, it’s coming out in my conversation with her.
"You know how it is when you're in love," she says. "You do whatever you need to keep it."
"Then, why do they never do everything they need to do to keep you?" I ignore her sharp gasp to continue. "You give and you give, and for what? For them to give up on you in the end, tell you you're too much, too this and too that. For you to beg them to stay, and they leave in the end, anyway? When are you going to stop and realize that they are not the loves of your life? They are not anything more than the next man you'll try to make yourself good enough for."
"How can you speak to me this way?" she hoarsely asks. "All I have ever done is show you what love could be, should be."
"Should be?" I give a haughty chuckle. "All you've ever done is make me terrified of loving someone and ending up like you. Desperate for them to love me back, and hollow when it becomes evident that they don't."
"I have shown you that love requires you give it all you have. I gave my all again and again, as you have pointed out, and you know what, I have no regrets in the end. I gave them everything I had, and if they weren't smart enough, genuine enough, to realize that, to appreciate that, then it's their loss."
“But don't you see that in giving them your all, you've lost who you are? What do you like, Mom? What is your favorite food, favorite show, favorite...anything? You don't know because you're waiting around for the next man to tell you who you are and what you like. How do you think that felt for me growing up, watching this woman I knew was my mother but feeling like I never knew who she really was, because she didn't even know anything about herself except what her man of themonth wanted from her. Because she was constantly changing, not evolving, but changing, Mom. Taking on a whole new personality because it's what best suited some man she barely even knew. You think you were showing me that love requires all when you should have been teaching me that love doesn't need you to change, but will only make you better."
"Should I have given up on love and shown you that it was better to be alone and miserable?"
"Because love makes you so happy? Are you not in whatever version of love you think you have and crying right now? Did I think I'd found love and now I'm sitting here with a broken heart, too?"
"What?" she breathes out.
My eyes widen and I curse. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"You love someone?"
"Forget it, Mom," I say through clenched teeth.
"Lexa." She releases a deep breath. "Maybe...maybe I didn't always show you the right thing. Maybe I need to look back and ask myself a lot of questions. But one thing I will not regret, nor question, is that I know I did show you that love is real." I scoff but she continues. "I have loved. I may not have been loved back in the way I wanted or in the way I should have been, but I have loved. I have opened my heart and felt what it is like to let someone in. I know love is real, and as much as you have told me time and again that you don't believe the same, clearly you know you were wrong now. The fact that your heart is broken at all proves as much."
"It only proves I made a mistake. It proves that I should have listened to my mind and kept my heart firmly behind all the walls I built around it, because look at what's happened now. Itproves I loved and now I'm losing that small part of myself I swore I never would. I will never get this piece of my heart back now. It's too shattered."
"Do you want it back, though?" she quietly asks. "Do you truly regret that you loved, or are you so hurt that anger is the only way you know how to react to it all? If that man came back to you right now and groveled and begged, could he not repair whatever damage he's done?"
The issue is Ezekiel won't come. He won't apologize or take his words back. He can't even be bothered to text. So, what repairing can be done when the person who broke my heart isn't interested in fixing it?
"It doesn't matter," I say low.
"It's all that matters."
Her words, the same as Jeremiah's, make my throat clog with far too many emotions. I close my eyes for fear of the tears I feel rushing forward. I've done enough crying over them.
"Look, honey, I don't know what happened, and I'm pretty sure if I ask, you wouldn't tell me, but I know that if you're hurt enough to open up to me, it must be bad. So, if I may give you some advice about love..."
She pauses, waiting for permission. I figure I owe it to her for the harsh, albeit necessary, words I've said to her today. "Go on."
"Give it one more shot. I find sometimes people are their own worst enemies. This man might just be stuck in his own head, or even doubting that he knows how to love. You cannot know unless you ask, unless you face this head on. You ask him what you want. You say what you want. And you walk away knowing you did all you could. That's all you can do. If he doesn't step up, rise to the moment at that point, then you let him go because hewasn't worth holding on to. And, Lexa, listen to me, you don't let this stop you from loving someone else. One heartbreak does not mean your heart will always be broken. You make your own happiness. That's all I've ever tried to do. Find my happiness. Maybe I was looking in the wrong places, I don't know, like I said, when we get off the phone, I have a lot to reflect on. But one thing I am sure about is that I was happy. So, if this man makes you happy, then fight for it. Fight for him and see if he fights for you back."
Her words leave me speechless, for so many reasons. She can't understand that this is a three-way fight. I could fight for Ezekiel, but would he fight as well when he was still so firmly in his belief that, like their ex, I couldn't possibly truly want a life with them? And how would Jeremiah end up, being in the middle of us, would the push and pull make him bitter, make his feelings change? They both make me happy, but would I feel the same if I had to all but beg Ezekiel to love me back?
"Has he reached out?" my mother asks.
"One of them has." I slowly, carefully answer. "The other hasn't."
"One? What do you...Ohhh."
I chuckle at that. It's a much-needed laugh.
"I see." She laughs as well. "Well, hey, I am all for more love. Even better if two men are doting on my daughter." She pauses, then. "You do know I love you, right, honey? No matter what man was around, you do know I loved you more than any of them, right?"
That I do know. I've never doubted she loved me, even if she was sometimes too distracted to show it. "I know, Mom."
