Page 22 of Shadowman
A person to be onmyside for once. That partner in crime I was secretly yearning for.
I waited a few days to call her, so as not to seem too eager. And we made plans to get dinner Saturday night. I was as excited as I was nervous.
Saturday night came, and we had dinner, followed by more sex. I felt like everything was falling into place. Rey wasperfect, and I could really see myself settling with her.
Settlingdownwith her, I mean.
I used to think people in relationships were suckers. Unhappy with themselves and desperate to find someone to make them feel good when the rest of life was shit. To me, it seemed inherently selfish to put that burden on somebody. To rely on someone else to fix you.
But for all of my insecurities and uncertainties—the giant gaping hole inside myself I could never seem to fill, no matter what I did—Iknewthat the locust of my identity revolved around desiring connection I could never seem to find. My family didn’t understand me… Shit, I barely understood myself.
I spent the next week texting with Rey, trying to make plans to see her again, because I was already addicted and ready to move full speed ahead on making the fantasies a reality. Sure,I liked her, and the sex was fire. But more than anything, I suddenly had a purpose. Something that made me visible.
Rey was busy with work and school, but we made time to see each other when we could.Okay… Imade time to see her. She was becoming a bit elusive, but I refused to let it sway me. I was determined to look past every single red flag she tossed up and see only the future I’d concocted in my mind.
Unfortunately, it was becoming increasingly difficult to get her on the phone. Even our texts were dwindling, and I was frustrated. She was mygirlfriend, I was sure of it. But she was dodging me, and I just didn’t understandwhy.
I swear to God, I paced for a full day. I just couldn’t fathom whyIfelt all these deep, longing things, and all she wanted was to fuck. I mean, I wanted to fuck too. Of course I did. But I didn’t want tojustfuck, because that was basic shit.
I could fuck anyone. I wanted Rey formorethan that.
The more I obsessed over it, the more unhinged I became. Ihatedthe idea of losing the good, stable thing before I even had the chance to show it off. If I wanted to keep this relationship, I’d need to take matters into my own hands.
It was late, well after midnight. And it was raining, so not many people were out walking the streets. I left my bike up the block and walked to her building. And when no one was looking, I climbed the fire escape.
Cards on the table, it wasn’t the first time I’d done it. So I knew it was secure.
There was a window that looked right into her bedroom, and I knew how to keep myself hidden enough to peek inside. I just wanted toseeher. To look at her. Find out what she couldpossiblybe doing that was more important than returning her [alleged] boyfriend’s calls.
By the time I got onto her fire escape, my hoodie was soaked through. Raindrops were tumbling from my hair down my faceas I crept up to her window and peered inside. My heart shattered to pieces in an instant.
Actions have consequences. That’s what people need to understand.
We come to a fork in the road, choose a direction. And that choice is directly responsible for where we end up.
Do we sometimes imagine what might have happened if we’d gone the other way? Sure. It’s normal to wonder. But ultimately, there’s no going back.
That was the night everything changed for me…
Because Rey was fucking some guy in her bed.
Some fucking prick was putting his dick inmygirlfriend’s pussy on the other side of that window. And I was just standing, in the pouring rain,watchingit happen.
Invisible.Nothing more than a shadow in the dark.
The events of that night brought me here. I didn’t know it at the time, butthat momentwas my fork in the road…
Peering through a window on Jane Street in the rain, I unknowingly chose a path that led me to a concrete tomb in the middle of the ocean.
That was the first time I laid eyes on Michelangelo Russo… But the thing is, I’m not sure I regret it.
For my sixth birthday, my parents gave me a stuffed bear.
Now, I should preface this by saying that receiving gifts in our household was a rarity. There were no presents, wrapped up in colorful paper under a twinkling Christmas tree. No toys accompanied by balloons and sugary confections to celebrate another year on this planet.
ThethingsI got from my parents weren’t fun. I’d come to expect nothing more than torment; scars, both physical and emotional.
So when I got the teddy bear, my first thought wasn’t that I was probably technically too old for a stuffed animal, nor was it the normal unenthused reaction of a child receiving a basic birthday gift.
