Love Never Wanted Me

10

I nervously run my fingers through my hair, spreading the bit of product that I use to keep my stray hairs in place. Why am I nervous? It's just dinner. I've had dinner with Patrick and his daughter before; it's no big deal. Plus, Brendon's hosting so it's going to be very casual. Just a small group, casually meeting up for Christmas Eve dinner.

So why am I freaking out?

I take a good long look at myself in my bathroom mirror. I'm wearing my black skinny jeans and grey, open back sweater. I haven't put on that much makeup, just a bit of foundation and eyeliner. I can't help but think that it's too much; am I too dressed up for just a friendly dinner? I mean, sure, I want to look nice for my boyfriend but am I trying too hard?

God, it's been so long since I've been in a real relationship that I'm over thinking every step. It's stupid really; Patrick doesn't make me feel like I need to be anything more than myself. He likes me for me, which is something completely foreign to me. The men I dated (if you could even call it that) in Los Angeles always wanted something else from me. They either wanted the girl who played in the band or the girl they could get high with. No one really wanted me for me.

But now there's Patrick. I've only known him for a few weeks, but it's felt like a lifetime. He has turned my world around and I couldn't be happier for it. For the first time, in a longtime, I feel good about myself and my life. I'm genuinely happy, but I'd be lying if I said that wasn't a bittersweet happiness.

He's sick and there is nothing I, or anyone for that matter, can do about it. I've seen how fast this disease can affect someone. It's unpredictable and frightening. I don't want to think about Patrick going through that, but he will. It's inevitable. Sure, I can be there for him and support him, but in the end, this is his battle. Patrick's going to have to fight this thing for as long as he can.

The doctor has told us about chemotherapy and given Patrick some medication to offset his discomfort, but there's still a long road ahead. God, I hope it's long. I know that's a morbid way to think, but it's the truth. I could lose him sooner than either of us would like. I don't want to think about it, but I can't deny it.

"Christ, Delilah," I tell myself as I look in the mirror, "pull it together. You can't be sad right now." I quickly wipe my eyes before any built-up tears start to mess up my makeup.

I let out another heavy sigh and then do one last look in the mirror. Welp, it's not getting any better. I run my hands through my hair one last time, then leave my apartment. I quickly jog up the stairs and reach Brendon's door in a matter of seconds.

"It's open!" I hear Brendon say from the inside after I gently knock. I enter the apartment and immediately take in the various, savory aromas that have filled the small space.

"It smells amazing, Bren," I say, closing the door behind me as I walk in fully.

"Thanks," Brendon says, poking his head out from the kitchen, "hope you like carbonara."

"Pasta for Christmas dinner? Sounds great," I reply.

"It's a tradition of ours, ever since I was in college," Brendon says, "We're going to eat in the living room so get comfortable. Dinner should be ready soon."

Before I can say anything else, I am suddenly engulfed in a tight hug from Rose.

"Ms. Delilah," she says, tightly wrapping her arms around my legs, "you made it!"

"Oh! Um, hi, Rose," I say, a little taken back by her embrace, "you startled me." I kneel to her level and hug her in return.

I'm surprised with myself that I've become so attached to this kid and how she's been so cool with me. I honestly thought she wouldn't like me because I was with her father, but Rose doesn't seem to mind that. She's a great kid, smart and very kind. Her and Patrick are completely in sync with one another; It's amazing to see. I thought that maybe she would be protective of him, but Rose embraced me like I was already family.