fundamentals of love ; james sirius potter

27. baby kiss it better

My mum and I used to watch reruns of Friends all the time when I was younger.

She didn't have a job most of the time, so while dad was out at school, we'd sit in our tiny flat in the rug my grandparents gave us and eat Kraft Dinner while watching Ross be an absolute menace to society. At the moment, back then, I never wanted more because it was all I'd ever experienced. You know, kids are so easy to make happy in that way. You give them the tiniest things and they'll love you forever.

I think we were poor for a long time. My dad was in law school, barely making money and always stressed out, my mother was . . . well, she was depressed and an addict with occasional good moments. I've been unfair in how I paint her out to be a villain because I know it isn't black and white, she tried, she must've tried so much even if she was never able to get clean back then. I think the depression really sucked her soul out and the tiny bursts of energy she managed to have were stolen by me.  There was always dinner and my bed was always warm but . . . we didn't have much for a long time. But that was so early on and then I turned seven and my dad suddenly made so much money that I thought we were the richest people in the world because we didn't have to take things out while buying groceries and could afford going out once a week rather than only during birthdays. 

And maybe Friends is unfunny and terrible, but I watched it with my mom in a flat that felt like it was east of Eden, so I love it in the way you love everything that brought you the tiniest bit of joy when you were a kid.

I'm leaning against the wall completely sober, all the boys are smiling in a way that tickles my chest so bursts of warmth flood it. I think it'd be okay if I was never happy again, I'd be able to stretch the joy of others and just live inside of it. 

"Why did we actually come here," I ask, Morgan when Sunil and Jimmy are talking to some girls. "Be honest with me."

He takes a sip of his drink, "Because we're all going to miss you and don't know how else to deal with the fact you're leaving."

"That's it."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"The truth is weird."

His shoulder brushes against mine, I'm someone else for a moment. I'm imagining a different universe, one where he still loves me, one where I still love him, one where I'm a healer and a ring is sitting in his pocket. I'm imagining that I'm not always sad and that I enjoy being out with people and don't cry in the shower in the mornings. I imagine that I'm so much better than I am now and I imagine I'm easier to love and--

I let it all go. 

For once, I don't obsess over the thoughts in my head and decide to let them go.

"I guess it's time to let go of this endless summer afternoon," I mumble, turning towards the bartender and beckoning my demise. The self-destructive tendencies are still as strong as ever it seems and I wonder if it isn't just my mum it comes from. My dad has spent his entire life closing up doors because he believes he doesn't deserve so many good opportunities, just like me.

When we leave the bar and get into a cab, I begin to cry because I'm absolutely drunk out of my mind.

Morgan, Sunil, and Jimmy are all yelling, handing me tissues and trying to figure out how to make me stop. They're all absolutely useless and I can't stop crying even when I'm laughing as Morgan accidentally elbows Sunil in the eye and Sunil's clutching his eye like it's broken. This causes them to start fighting with each other about whether eyes are important or not. Jimmy finally manages to grab the aux and starts playing ABBA as if it'll solve all the problems.