Back in the Saddle

Steven Remembers

Annie

I was lost, when I got back to Steven's.  I walked through the door, kind of a mess, but kind of better.   At least I wasn't crying anymore.

But Steven was.   He was crying, and drinking, and had his head buried in his arms, resting on the kitchen counter, with the phone lying next to him, buzzing softly to signal that the line is ready and waiting to make a call... Or that the line had been on a call, but the conversation had ended.

Being the loving, caring friend I try to be, I pushed my own issues to the back of my mind to make room to shoulder Steven's issues too.

"What happened?" I asked softly, sitting next to him to try to get him to raise his head; he was buried in a pool of hair.

My response was a mere head shake and some grumbled up, jumbled up mess of, "Tried talking to her."

Because she was on my mind, "Who?" I asked. "Lainey?"

Another head shake, but this time he looked up at me with glistening eyes and a trembling lip.  His face read pure sadness, and I felt my heart crumble just a little more.  "Charlie?" I asked, already pretty certain of the answer.

He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip.

"And how'd that go?" I asked, knowing too late that it was the wrong thing to say.  How do you think it went?!  He looks completely heartbroken!

Steven sighs.  "It was..."  He shakes his head, lip trembling still.  "Was alright."

Alright?!  I was completely taken aback.  "Really?" I ask.

Steven shrugs, staring at an invisible spot on the counter.  "I guess," he mutters.  "Not like it was bad..."

I knew I'd be treading on a thin line soon with all these questions.  Maybe I was already on the line.  Maybe I was about to cross it.  Who knows?  "What–  what'd you guys talk about? Y'know... That made it... Not bad...?"

Steven shrugged again.  "Just stuff," he said, and I found myself vaguely reminded of a teenager talking to a mom.

"Any... Specific details?"

Steven shook his head with another shrug.  "Dunno," he murmured.  "We just talked.  About a lot of things.  Too many things.  'Bout me, 'bout her.... Us... Stuff.  I'm–"

But he cut off because his chin started quavering and he felt the need to look away.  I felt horrible for him.

I waited patiently for him to speak, or gain control again.  He wasn't doing much, just staring off out the window, sniffling.  Finally, his lips parted; his mouth barely moved as he breathed out, "I wish I could tell her how sorry I am.  No– show her.  Make her believe me somehow.  Words're just words... Empty, meaningless, unable to be reheard or repeated exactly the same.  An apology's just an apology– a spoken thing that you hear, but however long down the road, you're gonna forget your words, or the person's gonna forget what they heard.  And 'cause you've forgotten it, you might just do it again."

Steven sighed, still staring off at nothingness.  He continued in a whisper, "I don't wanna forget her, Annie, or any of what I did to her, to me, to you, to anyone.  I don't wanna forget the ways I've hurt people.  Because I shouldn't forget.  I should remember, so that I never do it again.  I don't wanna forget the pain I'm feeling right now, or will feel later, or felt yesterday.  And I don't want them to forget their pain, either... I just want her to... I dunno.  I want her to–I guess–find light in it.  See the light that... That I'm different now.  I'm– no.  I'm back to who I was when we first met... Well... No, I'm different.  I'm not– I don't do that anymore!"  Steven again dropped his head onto his arms on the counter, mumbling to himself about apologies and change.