It's Too Cliché...Right? Ch. 10

He did neither, simply staring at me in shock. For a moment, I thought that maybe he was going to repeat the words to me, tell me that he loved me too and that he would try to be a better boyfriend, but then his eyes drifted to the floor and I knew my answer.

Shaking my head, I began to speak again. "I can't do this anymore, Evan. I need to know that whatever I'm doing isn't for nothing and right now, it feels like it's exactly that with you. I've been very patient with you, but even my patience runs thin. I love you but I can't wait forever, Evan, not even for you.

"You say you want to be normal, but there is nothing normal about whatever this is between us. It's not normal for me to tip toe around other people when it comes to you. It's not normal to pretend that we're just friends when we're not. By your standards, being with me in itself shouldn't be normal."

He had been quiet the whole time but I wanted him to say something. Anything that would give me a sign of what he really wanted, be it staying or leaving. "Say something," I spat out but still, Evan remained silent. Sighing, I ran a hand down my face. "Well, in that case maybe I can help you out. It's over."

He stood there, staring at the floor like the answers would be written on it. I just stared at him, though, my chest feeling tight as I fought the emotions that threatened to pour out. I didn't know what he was thinking about, but I really just needed him to say something.

Instead, he walked to the door and, like a ghost, disappeared. I inhaled deeply, my breath shaky as I fought to calm myself. I wanted, needed to control my emotions but the silence from Evan had cut me deeper than I thought it would have. Did I really mean that little to him? I felt the cool sensation on my cheek before even realizing the single tear that escaped, leaving the wet trail in it's wake. I angrily wiped at it knowing that he didn't deserve my tears, especially not when I meant so little to him.

I shook my head, trying my best to forget about everything; forget about all the months I spent trying to make him happy and all the times he did the same for me. I had to wonder, though, did he want to make me happy or was it just happenstance of his act? Had I been some experiment to him, his little foray into the gay world to satiate his inner desires?

"Argh!" I screamed, kicking the bean bag chair that sat near my feet, the closest victim to take my rage out on. I didn't want to be sad, but I could deal with anger. After all, I had every right to be angry, right?

Plopping down on the couch, I draped my arm over my eyes, head thrown back as I tried to forget. It was difficult, though, the smell of Evan's cologne still lingering in the air, filling me with a mixture of longing and anger. "Fuck!" I huffed, angry at myself. I couldn't even go one second without thinking about the damn guy, how was I supposed to forget him.

As if the world knew that I needed a break, a clash of thunder rumbled through the sky. Exactly what I needed, a little rain shower to make me feel better. I vaulted myself off the couch and headed for my front porch.

On the way, I looked at the quiet interior of my house noticing that nothing seemed different. The walls were still the same shade of white, the curtains still the same awful orange that my mom thought looked good. The comfy albeit slightly torn up couch still stood in the middle of the living room and the slightly slanted coffee table still had the rings of watermarks from years of sweating glasses and cans. Even the floorboard at the base of the stairs still creaked like it did every other day. So, why did everything feel different?

As I opened the front door, I saw the first drop of water hit the hot pavement, a little circle of dark gray appearing in the sea of lighter gray concrete. I smiled, closing the door behind me and sitting on the porch steps. Slowly, more spots started appearing on the sidewalk, the drizzle getting heavier until the rain started falling from the sky in waves.

The smell of rain filled the air, removing any traces of Evan's scent. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy aroma, the smell making me feel a whole lot better than I had just minutes before. I don't know what it is about rain but I've loved it ever since I was a kid.

As a child, while other kids were scared of thunder and lightning, I felt nothing but glee. While other kids ran to their parents' room to hide under their covers, I stared out my window, watching as lightning flashed across the sky. Maybe it's due to the fact that I had practically lived in a desert my entire life and rain was seen as a rare occurrence, or maybe I just liked the sound of rain falling.

I stuck my legs out, letting the cold water fall onto my bare feet, wriggling my toes as rain ran down my skin. I wasn't even aware I was still feeling some anger until I felt it melt away with the pouring rain like the water was washing away all the resentment I was feeling. All that did, however, was leave me feeling nothing but longing for Evan, even if he was an asshole.

I sighed, resting my chin in my hands, staring out and getting lost and allowing my attention to drift. At first, it focused on the falling rain, the droplets blurring the view of the street beyond that, but it didn't take long for my thoughts to drift back to Evan.

I started to question if I had done the right thing, breaking up with him. I knew I still wanted to be with Evan, denying that would have been lying to myself, but I deserved something too, right? I had to remind myself that Evan hadn't put the same effort into the relationship as I had. He didn't stand to lose anything, while I had to essentially go back into the closet to be with him.

So, why did it still hurt so much?

Maybe it was because it wasn't just that our relationship ended, but that Evan made me question my own self-worth. Normal, that was the word he used. He didn't think that what we were, was normal. That being gay wasn't normal.

But maybe I was hurt most, not because we broke up, but because he hadn't even fought for me. He had walked out, not even bothering to utter an apology or make me see his way. He didn't yell at me that I was making a mistake or shed a tear at the knowledge that what we had was over. He just left.

The sound of tires on the wet asphalt started faint, growing louder as the vehicle approached. For a second, hope filled me, thinking that it was Evan returning to fight for what he wanted, much like the day we got together. It was in that moment, that I realized that as much as Evan had hurt me, I still loved him. I really fucking loved him, more than I've ever loved anyone.

As the car appeared further up the road, I had my hands in fists, clenching so hard as if that would have made it more likely to make the car Evan's. The car that appeared, however, wasn't Evan's Honda, or even any of his father's expensive rides. Instead, a light blue Prius rolled down the road, passing past the house before disappearing down the street.

"Fuck me," I swore, cursing myself for even hoping that it would be Evan. My life was never that clichéd. Imagine, Evan standing in the rain, water dripping off his hair as he stood there, staring at me, regret clear in his eyes. He would walk up to me, pulling me to my feet and smashing his lips to mine and like that, we would kiss in the rain as the credits started rolling.

No, that wasn't my life. But in a way, being with Evan led me to think that maybe my life could be a little clichéd. In the grand scheme of things, I guess our story has been predictable so far. I mean, in every story, a problem always arrives somewhere in a relationship to tear the couple apart. Although, I guess that's the framework for life in general.

Even in life, there are ups and downs. You may have gotten that dream job but five years later, realize that you are diagnosed with cancer and with it decide to change your lifestyle to be healthier. You may have married the love of your life but five years later, are paying lawyers to finalize your divorce and in the process, find another person who understands you better than anyone ever had before.

Life was one big story, just one where the credits don't roll after the happy ending. Real life also didn't always have that silver lining. Sometimes, shit just happens and all it does is hurt you. Sometimes, there is nothing to gain from the tragedies you face other than knowing it is molding you as a person. Maybe, I was a part of this group.

"Hey," a voice called out, breaking me from my thoughts. I turned, seeing Tim leaning against the door frame. "You okay?"

A part of me just wanted to nod so I didn't have to talk about it, but another part of me wanted someone to confide in, to tell me that everything would be okay, even if that person was my younger brother. "No," I sighed, turning back to face the street once again.

I heard the door close softly behind me before I felt Tim take a seat to my right, he too putting his feet into the rain. "I remember you loved to do this when we were younger. Nice to know you still do," he said, rotating his ankles as water fell on them. "So, wanna tell me what's wrong?"

I exhaled, wondering if I really wanted to do this. I could feel Tim's gaze on me, waiting for me to spill the details without pressuring me. I figured it was too late to back out now, making up my mind. "I broke up with Evan."

I could see Tim eyes going wide from the corner of my eyes, his eyebrows raised in surprised. I turned to him, seeing a flicker of suspicion flashed through his features, quickly disappearing when he realized that I wasn't joking. "Oh..." he trailed off, probably wondering what to say. "That sucks."

To most people, Tim's reply may have seemed crass and maybe even a little cold, but it made me feel better. I appreciated that Tim didn't say he was sorry, or ask what happened. He was simply being a brother, essentially telling me that he didn't care about how or why, but that he was there to ensure that I was okay regardless.

"Yeah, it does," I said, chuckling, though it was a somewhat sad laugh. "I should never have agreed to this whole thing. I knew it wouldn't end well."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have, but who could blame you? It's Evan Trevorrow we're talking about here, the guy you've practically been in love with for the past four years. I'd have been more surprised if your didn't try," he said.

"You're not doing the whole 'you'll never know if you never try' thing, right?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"God, I'm starting to sound like Mom," he said, shaking his head. "But yeah, I am." I laughed, a real one this time, shaking my head too at his antics. "You'll be okay, though."

"You so sure about that, huh?"

"Meh, pretty sure," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You're...you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon, dude, please don't make me say it out loud," he grumbled. When I didn't say anything, he groaned and dropped his head into his chest. "You're like the strongest person I know, okay? If anyone is going to get through anything life can throw at them it's you."

The tiniest smile crept onto my cheeks. "You really think I'm that great?"

"Don't let it get to your head, dude," Tim said, punching me in the arm. "But, you're not exactly the worst brother a guy can ask for."

"Aww."

Tim rolled his eyes at me but continued. "Any other popular kid would have probably ditched their nerdy younger brother just to maintain his reputation at school. You didn't. You stuck with me all through high school even though you could have forgotten about me with your cool jock friends."

"Have you met our friends? They aren't exactly the coolest bunch of people either, Tim. At least not by regular standards."

"You know Melissa's gonna kick your ass if she hears you say that about her, right?"

I laughed but rolled my eyes. "C'mon, man. You go to Cornway, no one would have cared if you were a nerd hanging with a jock, let alone when that jock is your brother. Besides, you're so smart, it's cool." I wrapped my arm around his head to give him a noogie.

"Yeah, yeah. Too cool for school and all that shit," he said, pushing me away from him, rubbing at the sore spot on his head. "I'm trying to make you feel better here and you're making it really difficult for me to empathize with you."

"Sorry," I said, though the smile on my face told him I was anything but.

"I'm just trying to say, that I'm proud to have you as my brother."

I felt a wave of affection for my little brother then, not even holding myself back from draping my arm over his shoulder and pulling him to my side.

"You're a pretty awesome brother too," I said, giving him a warm smile.

"I guess we're both just awesome people then."

I wanted to tell him that I didn't feel so awesome at that point, but that wouldn't have been the complete truth. Sure, the whole thing with Evan was still on my mind, but I figured that I could get through this.

Tim was right, I could handle what life threw at me and eventually, Evan was going to be a distant memory. If Evan didn't want to fight for me, who was I to cling onto him. He hurt me and it was the logical thing for me to let him go. That's what people say anyway, right? If you love them, let them go. So, why should I hold on to someone that would bring me sadness?

I deserved some happiness too.

The ironic thing was, it was exactly the source of my current unhappiness that told me those exact words.