A Matter of Unimportance

Epilogue

Endings are hard.

Especially in a story, such as this one, where there isn't really an ending. It's just a retelling of what has occurred so far. The future is still open.

I said at the beginning that this was a happy story. I'm sure you've doubted that throughout, but it was happy. It's happy because I learned so much, and because I made my own way regardless. It's happy because I found love at the end.

I don't want to imply that the only way to be happy is through someone else, because that wasn't the point. Instead, you should just marvel at the way everything I loved was taken, and I still found more. I always had more. Even when I didn't know there was more to be had, it was just lingering on the outskirts.

I didn't listen to all of my mothers teachings exactly. She certainly hadn't ever raised me to be as egotistical or power hungry as I tend to be when my back is to a wall. I didn't always listen to Whaya either. Whaya asked me to never be something fearsome and there are plenty of people who know that I can be. Being gentle and kind is a choice I have to make everyday, and I make that choice with my shoulders back and my head high because I lack a certain level of humility that could make gentleness and kindness more evident than it's been at times.

But I listened to the both of them when I decided to center love. They both made its importance clear. I was to plant roots of myself like a loving tree. That was my mission.

Trees can be moved though. Roots can be transplanted. As much as I've always viewed home as a place I inhabited, love can make a person feel like home too.

I left Portland with Riley in the summer of 2021. I was 23 years old. Until that day I hadn't left the city since that visit to the reservation as a teenager. I'd only known him truly for three years.

The circumstances in which we left were complicated. It really all came down to the simple fact that despite all of my best efforts, Riley could not be controlled. That meant that I couldn't really protect him. God did catch up to us. Really, he caught up to Riley. I couldn't keep him out of the mess. I couldn't save him just because I wanted to.

I could give you all the details, but I won't because it's not my story to tell. Riley could tell you, or maybe even Percy (who I may have judged prematurely), or even the both of them. They were the ones who watched it unfold up close. I was busy on the sidelines like a frantic Juliet, believing that my Romeo had been lost to the battles forever.

But then he came back.

The danger was real again and even though it had been years since God had so much as audibly breathed in my direction, I knew I was in trouble. It didn't help that from the moment Riley had disappeared until mere moments before his return, I had hunted Roy Barker like a hound. I was out for blood. All of my premonitions about the effects of Riley had been true. I would have killed the man if the chance had presented it. I believed in the moment that I should have killed him years ago when I had the chance. For a few days, I regressed into a person I very much did not like in the wake of what I thought was insurmountable loss.

I stopped taking drugs after I met Riley. With the exception of smoking the plants I grew and binge drinking hearty red wines, I decided to gift myself a clear mind. It helped that despite what was never a clear defined relationship, I felt a draw to be available to Riley. That meant dropping my vices so that I could support him in his. Riley was an addict. Riley knew he was an addict despite all of his denials. Refusing to fall into it with him was a choice I could make.

In that way, and in plenty of others, loving Riley made me a better person. He made me patient, because waiting for him to be ready for me required patience. He made me brave because worrying about him quietly instead of openly required a sort of poise that only bravery could supply. He made me compassionate because I'd never had to forgive someone like I forgave him before.