Page 116 of Feels Like Home

There’s this song that has a line about being tangled up in barbed wire. Damn it all if that’s not the truth. I feel like the time when I was a kid and went to a buddy’s house who lived in the country. He had four-wheelers and, like a typical city kid who had no clue what I was doing, somehow lost control of the four-wheeler his family let me drive and ended up in the barbed wire fence. I had no idea how it had happened, or what to do to remove it. But his mom came out, calm as you please, and pulled up on the top half of the wires, pushing down with her feet on the rest, and my buddy got it pushed out of the tangled mess I had created like it was no bigdeal.

That’s exactly how I feel. My heart is so tangled up in Christine and won’t let her go, and I’m starting to wonder if this is my life now or if I even need to keep fighting this. Get over myself, recognizeIwas the one who fucked up. Nother.

I need to just pull myself out of the mess and apologize. Grovel like the moron that Iam.

And moveon.

WithChristine.

Because I’m not entirely sure I can really move on without her by myside.

I know all those things I’m feeling are totally illogical. And I also know that if I don’t pull my head out of my ass soon, I’ll not only lose her forever, but I’ll lose a little bit of my children, too. Not just the baby she’s growing in her beautiful stomach. But my boys, too, who have taken to her like she’s an angel who was dropped right into ourpath.

My heart knows I need to move on. Accept it, apologize, and crawl on my knees for her to forgive myjackassery.

But myhead?

That’s in myway.

I didn’t think it possible to have more hatred for Heather, but in this moment, Ido.

She didn’t only screw me and the boysover.

She screwed over Christine,too.

How many men did she try toseduce?

How many times was shesuccessful?

Why wasn’t I enough forher?

Why weren’t the boys enough for her to realize that she was beingselfish?

Why am I going through all these stupid questionsagain?

Before I know it, I’m sitting in front of Christine’shouse.

I knew I would end up here, my hands itching to pull on the handle, letting me out of the confines of my safe space. The light in her living room is on, and I can see the shadow of her walking around before she disappears. I crane my head, hoping to get another glimpse of her. Needing it more than I need the air in mylungs.

The desire to storm up to her house, throw open the door and take her into my arms, begging her to give me another chance is heavy. Desperate for some feeling, I give in and rush across the street, bounding up thestairs.

Memories assault me the second I’m on her porch. The time the boys and I picked her up to go to the haunted house. When I picked her up to go to the cabin for a long weekend. When she stood in the kitchen and taught them not only how to cook, but how to bake a cake, only for them to sneakily help me ask her on our first date. Of the evening I picked her up at her house for the first time we would go out to dinner, ending up at the lake where we sat on a blanket on the beach under thestars.

The feeling of her pinky finger always linking with mine whenever we werenear.

Of the first time my lips touched hers in this very spot I’m standing right now. It wasn’t our first kiss, but it is still burned into mymemory.

I knew the flame between us would burn bright. Our first kiss only confirmed that. My lips touched hers, and I could feel the fire ignite. The longevity of what we werestarting.

When I walked through this door, holding a bag from Walgreens full of pregnancy tests and bottles of vitamin water, dragging her behind me. I knew she was pregnant. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. And I couldn’t even bring myself to be upset about it. I was, and still am, damn near giddy at the thought of her carrying mychild.

So why can’t I get overit?

I bend over at the waist, feeling overwhelmed by the emotions clawing at myheart.

Mylove.

Mybaby.

---