Chapter 12: Homefires

The night's darkness was comforting. The flickering lights of the vehicles clustered the streets, replacing the stars hidden in the black sheet of sky. The tunnel vision of life moving in front of me nurtured itself into some sort of secret past time. The desire to move forth on my own was there, but it staggered behind painful memories that were not far rooted in the past.

The cold glass between myself and the outside world was authentic in its metaphoric state. The barrier was invisible, yet so real. All I had to do was move onto the other side of the window pane, and movement forward would no longer be this preconceived notion. It didn't have to be this way. The fear comfortably tangled into my web of thoughts and coagulated into many threads with time. But unfortunately for fear, I now knew exactly where it resided, and it was time to rid of it.

As I stood in Ezra's apartment, I chose to battle the roots of all the doubts that I had carried for years. I have the academics, but I didn't think I was smart. I had the ability to learn and grow wherever I chose to go, but I didn't think I was worth being a part of the team. I had so much love in my life, but I didn't think I was truly worthy of being loved.

Though, I felt it.

I did love Andre. He was real, and he was my partner of many years. The sudden creeping sensation of a smile contradicted the weight I've carried about him for so long. I was happy thinking back on what we had and what we accomplished. He finished school. He finished medical school. He stayed on his path to success.

Good.

Yet, we both knew that our partnership revolved around his prosperity. Or so we thought. It wasn't until months before my graduation that I realized that I didn't match up to him. I didn't know where I was going, and I could sense the dissatisfaction of my indecision over my future before he began to show it freely on his face. We were doomed. God knew I tried to initiate a war within myself to find that spark to set me forward on a path. God also knew that I had no idea where I wanted to really be.

It didn't matter where I was, I didn't know why I was there.

It wasn't until I heard someone else say those words that were always true: "You are a valuable asset to my company."

Not only was there a belief in my contributions but the denial of my importance anywhere had struck a chord with me at that moment.

Ezra.

Ezra was simply a mess, and I was no different from him. All of the distaste and countering attraction aside, our jumbled insides surely kept pulling us back together. Except for now. His apartment was still empty. Two weeks had gone by where I visited the grave of his home like a mourning widow. I had no idea where he was, and I could only get kick of life back if I went into his closet to see if I could find a lingering scent of cologne. Though, I looked for that fragment of him on the first night. I wasn't well on the inside, and my mother's devastating news along with the empty reminder of his departure left me even more off-kilter than before. Since then, the recollection was too painful. I now associated his aroma with what was misery.

I barely knew him, and this was where I had ended up. What we had begun was a lost cause. Both of us too damaged to make a whole. The secrets ran too deep, despite Genevieve being right there in front of me all along.

But I wouldn't call myself stupid. I couldn't call myself stupid.

What I felt in my heart felt right. My feelings were real. So real, I thought I was on the brink of losing my mind. Sitting in his apart with only illumination from the moon always set the mood for me to wonder what the driving force was behind our mayhem. I thought it had to be more than our unspoken flaws that drew us close. It had to be more than the body I saw, felt, and tasted.

"Maybe I'm not supposed to know at all," I hummed, my forehead pressed against the frosty window.

Suddenly, I began to laugh. A small fit of short, quick breaths evolved into a feel-good chuckle.

2016 has been nothing but a complete mess.

But the year was almost over, a month was still leashed to us all. Almost twelve months of physical and especially emotional turmoil dragging us through the mud, up the mountain, and back through the mud again and again. I stopped counting how many times I was sure my heart had been pulled out of my chest and stomped on-- especially by my own hand. I was depleted, but the source was replenishing with time.

Strangely, my mother's diagnosis had kept me from the premature survivor's remorse I had carried once she told me she had cancer. I loved my mother, and it was hard to fight against the light that she wanted to carry instead of all the anguish I kept close inside. Waking up in the morning felt less of a burden than before, and with each passing day the sunlight was less of my enemy. Now, I had to learn how to commune with the moon. So, I took myself to a mysterious place to work with what the moon had yet to uncover for me.

The mystery behind Ezra's luxury apartment was that I also felt at home. I didn't understand what drew me to the space, but the same was felt for the man who it belonged to. Again, I confirmed that I wasn't supposed to know. The answer was to embrace the unknown: that I simply didn't need to know the answer to everything. If I kept going, this smog would suffocate me. My family and Faith were expending their energy hoping that I was okay, every single day. Despite me dwelling on my life and all the people I care about that are a part of it, the generosity was unbalanced from my end of the relationship.

Even, you, Ezra.

"I'm done picking at these wounds."

I turned around to view the scenery that made me uneasy as they were riddled in loving memories. But what I saw was the past, and I was ready to leave it behind.

"He's gone." I said with finality, pulling the keys from my pocket.

Placing them on the coffee table provoked insecurity about the decision to never return to the safe haven filled with painful memories. I couldn't play ignorant to his last words to me. I couldn't pretend he would never spark a hint of remorse when I thought of his name.

Ezra. Don't throw it all away.

Staring down at the keys, I wondered if he would ever return. I briefly dreamed of what it would be like to have him stand in front of me, listening and watching me pour out my infected heart over where life had taken me.

"Wishing hasn't been working in my favor, lately," I chuckled to myself.

My empty hand returned inside my pocket, and I wiggled my anchor socks in the carpet.

But still, I wish you were here.

Grabbing my backpack, the front door was my destination. I grabbed the knob, but forgot my hat I left on the arm of his sofa.

Always forgetting shit, Ada.

As soon as the skully fit snug onto my head, my hands froze. My eyes darted back toward the door, as the sound of a key slowly sliding into the door took me by surprise.

I felt sick, but I stood there as it opened. I stood and I waited to see if I was losing my mind. My eyes glossed over once the light of the apartment illuminated the room.

Life was never done fooling me, and I could see that it had taken him by surprise as well.

"Ada?" he gasped.

I pressed my lips together and didn't bother fighting the tears trickling down my face. Jesus Christ the man was still beautiful in his worn appearance. A progression of the last time I saw him, the untamed shadow had grown into a full beard close to the skin. Dwelling from the new, the textured jacket was familiar and accompanied by a long slate sweater and charcoal leather gloves. The handle to the upscale carry-on slipped out of his grip and tipped over beside his feet.

He was across the room. Ezra was right there. He stood still. I saw the mutual, unexpected chill in eyes I hadn't seen in so long.

Through the sharp pulse in my throat, I asked. "Where have you been?"

The question held validity this time. I wasn't asking it to no one in a moment of hurt this time. It could be answered. But he didn't answer. He looked away from me and to the ground, but only for a moment.

"I left," he answered, unknowing of how much his voice governed a cascade of soothing relief.

I didn't move. We didn't move. I was still, waiting until he gave me more.

He did. "I left to see if I could never come back this."

The relief was clamped at the root. "And you returned."

"Yes, but I haven't come back."

There was no room for another pregnant pause, "What do you mean?"

"I left, Ada."

Say my name again.

"I didn't want to come back, Ada. I didn't want to return to this life."

"Where did you go, Ezra?" Frustration, overtaking me.

"Paris."

The lull was back. Stunned at his confession, I could do nothing but think of the many scenarios that would wield a better life with him in France with Genevieve. A life that made more sense. The path he was meant to be on.

I took in a deep breath and softly looked him over. I needed a moment to singe the cinder field of hopelessness and despair that threatened to reap buds of life.

You are no ancillary. I was no detour.

I exhaled, after catching my calm and acceptance, "When do you go back?"

"I'm not going back," he snapped.

My bewilderment made him go on, "I left to run away from my problems, but as we saw... that caused us to be where we are today."

"Hmm," I hummed in lazy contemplation.

Ezra raked his fingers through his beard and scoffed with frustration, "I thought a relationship would fix me. Instead, I used your love to try to fill in and cover up the holes I've held inside for all of my life. I used you..."

"You didn't use me," I firmly corrected. "You can't use the willing."

"I lied to myself and to you. I knew what would happen yet I never stopped."

Looking over his fallen luggage and his clenched fists, I said, "There are a lot of things that you can regret. There are many things that I can regret, but I... don't. Not anymore."

He shook his head. "That's no surprise, Ada. You were always strong."

"Was I?"

"Yes, I did nothing but make your life hell the moment I first saw you."

"You're speaking for me."

He kept quiet, so I asked, "Ezra... what are you trying to really say?"

"I don't want to... I don't want you," he confessed.

I didn't move. Nothing within me moved. I kept my composure, my examination focused on his face. There was no challenge to be had, nor an internal monologue this time.

"Okay," I returned.

A casual submission to his admission was not what he expected, obvious from the swift flutter in his eyes. Bowing to rejection would have been atypical for me, but I was still weary.

I looked at the device and shining metal on his coffee table and smiled, "Your keys are there. I meant for this to be my last time visiting here, but I'm happy I could say it formally."

Despite our distance, the heavy breaths he took were unmistakably catalyzed by the finality of everything that brought us to this point. It was strange to accept the end so quickly, but life wasn't predictable. There was nothing else to say on the matter, so I ambled my way past an old lover and to his door, hoping that he would remember me... so tenderly.

I could feel him watching me put on my old pair of dirty kicks. Feeling compelled to look at him again, I did and smiled. However, he wasn't feeling mutual about our last goodbye.

A challenging thought was written on his face, and I found out what it was when he dipped his head and gravely asked, "Ada... are you okay?"

His attention lingered above my eyes and around my head covered in a favorite and plain orange skully. I quietly laughed to myself and dragged it off of my head, proudly rubbing my palm over the buzz cut I sported.

Once his face was riddled with panic, I slipped my hat back on and reassured him, "Yes, Ezra. I'm fine."

His was fixing his mouth to question more, but I cut him short, "It was good to see you again, Ezra. I'm glad you're okay."

Walking out of his apartment and into the elevator felt easier than I would have imagined. There weren't too many foreseeable circumstances to expect anymore, and I was happy with accepting what the unknown had to offer.

Though, the unknown took a step to the side for a moment and allowed my thoughts to be interrupted by a fast set of heavy footsteps. Before the shiny panels could close to transport me away for good, Ezra's hands caught the doors.

"No," he huffed.

I turned my head to the side and eyed him with question, and he shook his head, "No, Ada. This can't be it."

I looked to the floor and began, "Ezra--"

"No!" he snapped, pulling my attention.

My lips parted to quietly fight against his defiance, but he his eyes surveyed my face, as he professed, "It's not over..."

"Ezra," I sighed.

But he shook his head at me, "... not over... not over yet."

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Number of hidden songs: 1