As Jon looked over at them, he wondered how they could make their constant assurances that he was important to them, that they cared for him. How could they put so much effort into convincing him so, yet do nothing to show him they care? He was the one that introduced them to each other after all. He thought back to then, remembering the years when they were all so close, and felt his chest tightening as he reluctantly averted his gaze, trying not to let his longing show–the way it prevented him from staying present, the way it was always holding him back, always showing itself when he was around them. He believed he had no one to blame but himself for his loneliness, and he wore this self-hatred on him. It was evident in the way he carried himself: his feet dragged slightly whenever he walked, as if the burdens he’d imposed on himself were weighing him down.
Staring down at the grass now in an attempt to remain unnoticed by his friends, he desperately looked for something to take interest in. He worried that any eye contact from any of his friends would result in an ingenuine, “Are you ok?” which would only draw unwanted attention, and he didn’t want their only attention to him to be out of pity. A small spider in the grass that he’d declared to have a missing leg after watching it for some time held his attention. He watched the blade of grass sink under the weight of the spider and only glanced away when he felt someone’s gaze upon him. The thought of ignoring whoever was looking at him passed through his mind, but he inevitably met his gaze and saw Michael looking back at him. As they locked eyes, Jon noticed the subtle contortion of Michael’s face into one of concern.
Michael excused himself from the conversation he was having and walked inside, towards the kitchen. Jon feared that it had been their recent interaction that prompted Michael to leave so suddenly until he heard Michael’s voice from behind him: “Jon, could you come over here and help me with this? I just need to…” His voice became drowned out, unheard by Jon over his increasing heartbeat. He suddenly felt his head pounding which manifested into a lightheadedness that nearly made him pass out. “You good?” asked Michael, luckily after Jon had recovered enough to hear him. “Yeah. I just think I might be getting a little sick,” Jon replied. “Yeah. I think there’s something going around; I had three coworkers call in sick just this week,” said Michael, wishing he knew what more to say to comfort him. In a vain attempt to keep the conversation from dying, Jon uttered one last, “yeah.”
They stood in silence for a while after that, but it wasn’t one that felt unpleasant. Instead, Jon found himself comforted by the silence. Silences normally terrified him, but this was a different type of silence. He was with someone who, at this moment, seemed to be interested in what he had to say. Jon was used to silences being horribly painful, not physically of course, but they were typically the result of either his inability to carry a conversation or the unwillingness of anyone else to try. He looked up to meet Michael’s eyes and immediately regretted it. Michael was mad. Seeing Michael look at him this way made him realize that he’d completely misread the situation.
“So why did you call me here?” Jon said, his face wearing the betrayal he felt.
“Jon. You have no idea?”
“No. I can’t read minds if that’s what you’re asking”
“Please, Jon, do you not see anything wrong with the way you’ve been acting towards us? I just want to know if everything’s okay with you so I can at least have some sort of explanation as to why you’ve been like this. Not that it would serve as any form of justification, ok? Because I cared about you, Jon. I really did, and I think some part of me still cares, but it’s not enough for me to continue to withstand your constant…”
“You know, I don’t have to listen to you, right? I could just leave. I don’t have to take any of this.”
“If you leave, that’s it. We’re not gonna try to have you back.”
“That’s what you said last time ”
“Well last time we still believed you were capable of change. We believed that you cared enough about us and our relationship to at least put in the smallest amount of effort. If you leave, that tells me we were wrong to ever believe in you”
“Aww you believed in me?? Well that changes everything. Let me just disregard your blatant manipulation and, you know what? Maybe I’ll even apologize. Michael, I’m so sorry your husband died. I’m sorry you got in a fight with him and let him leave the house during a storm. I’m sorry that you didn’t tell him you loved him back earlier that day. I’m sorry that the last words you said to him were out of anger. In fact, Michael, what were the last words you said to him? You told him you wanted a divorce, right?”
“You let him leave, Jon”
“What?”
“You gave him the keys”
Jon paused, trying to appear collected, “What are you talking about, Michael?”
“You were of sound mind. You gave him the keys”
“I don’t understand.”
“Sure you do, Jon. You guys were supposed to be together. You were supposed to be watching him, making sure he was safe, but what were you doing instead? Flirting with some floozy while your girlfriend was out of town? He knew his limits, so surely he asked you to drive him back? For God’s sake, Jon, why did you still give him the keys? You gave him no choice.”
“Michael…”
“Please leave, Jon.”
Jon didn’t move
“Get out! Please. I don’t want to see you any more.” His head was swimming. He could barely stand. He reached his hand out to stabilize himself, but everything was moving. He collapsed to the floor.