Page 100 of As the Years Pass

When he walks out, I let him go, because chasing him down and having it out won’t do either of us any good. The last time we got into an argument, I went to him right away, and maybe we need some space. He can take time to process what’s going on and realize that he has nothing to be mad about, and I’ll sit hereby myself and have no one to talk to about being upset over this. Because, I have no one in my life that is a friend.

How the hell did I get here? How do I have nothing?

I consider calling Leslie and trying to talk to her about this boyfriend thing, but I’m too worked up—and that’s probably as bad of an idea as going after Emmet. I’m angry and I want to fight, but that’s not fair to everyone. I get that, but what the hell am I going to do with myself today?

I grab my laptop, get comfortable on the couch, and lose myself in classwork. I’m just about done with this, and when I finish, I can schedule my broker exam. Once I pass that, I can work on the fun stuff. I can get a website done, and start looking at houses and trying to find clients to put my foot in the door. I have time to figure out if I want to do this solo or work with others, it’s not something I need to decide on right now. If I do decide to work with others, I should have an office, but what I’d charge them to work under my license would cover that, so it’s not much of a concern. Finding people to work under me will be the challenging part. It’s difficult doing this alone, when you have no one to help you and you’re not sure where to start. I worked at the same place for so long; it’s all I’ve known.

So maybe doing this by myself for a while is in my best interest. I should get the hang of doing things alone before taking on more responsibility, even if it seems minimal.

When I get sick of doing work, I take a break and purchase a domain with my name, set up the email for it, then design business cards. I’m not the best designer, but I manage to get something professional looking and put in an order to get some printed.

By the time I’m done, my eyes burning and a headache coming on, it’s nearly dinner.

No wonder I have a headache; I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.

I make myself two grilled cheese sandwiches and drink a bottle of water. I lay on the couch and find something to watch on TV and end up falling asleep.

When I wake up, it’s dark. I grab my phone to check the time. It’s almost ten, and I have no missed calls or texts.

It hurts more than it should.

Why are we fighting?

No matter how hard I think, I can’t figure it out. I can’t understand what happened. I know what I’m upset about, I know why I’m angry with Leslie, but how did that turn into Emmet being mad at me? Thirteen hours is a good amount of time for space, so I call him.

It rings and rings, and I’m not sure he’s going to answer. I’m about to end the call when he finally picks up.

“Hello?”

It’s emotionless. Not the typical happy hello I’ve gotten every other time I’ve called.

“Hey,” I say. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Busy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to bother you.”

It’s silent, as I wait for him to tell me it’s fine, that it’s no problem—like he always does.

My breath is caught in my lungs as I wait and wait.

Finally, with a sigh, he says, “You’re not bothering me.”

As I let the breath out, tears sting my eyes. I can’t speak though. I don’t know what to say.

“What have you done today?” he asks, but it sounds off. Forced. Like he doesn’t really want to know or even care.

“Got some class work done. Made business cards.”

“Nice.”

Silence again.

I don’t know what’s happening here. I don’t know why he’s being this way. It both angers me and upsets me, but I don’tknow which emotion to latch onto. Do I show him my anger or do I show him my sadness? Do I allow myself to be vulnerable with him?

“Emmet,” I say. “What’s going on?”

Confidently and firmly, he says, “I’m upset, Adam.”