I don’t know. It’s just…I spent my life letting other people control me in some ways, and I can’t even blame them, because I allowed it. I didn’t see my own strength, and now, now I do. Saturday night I was feeling so high, after the lake house and getting my apartment, and…I don’t know, owning my sexuality or sexual appeal in ways I’d never allowed myself to. I felt so high, and then that guy, he tried to make me feel small again, tried to take my control and make me feel weak. A month ago I would have let him, and I would have wanted someone to step in, but something hit me then—if I’d let him make me feel small, I would have continued to feel that way. I needed to deal with it myself. I know you were trying to help, but…”
“By stepping in, I made you feel small too. Like I didn’t believe in you or trust in you. Like you needed me.”
In that moment, everything inside me relaxed, and I felt seen. Jake got it. Jake got me. “Yes. And I know that’s not what you meant. You’re such a good man. I don’t know if I would be where I am if I hadn’t met you, and God, I want you, so much, but I can’t need you. When I tried telling you I could handle it and you didn’t listen, it told me you thought I couldn’t.”
“I didn’t mean that. Christ, Seth. I think you’re one of the bravest people I know. I…I don’t know what came over me. I think the drinking is a trigger for me because of my dad—he was always drunk when he hurt my mom. When I was coming into the club, I saw some drunk dude being hauled out, and it rattled me. And then that guy kept hanging around you all night with a drink in his hand. I saw him touch you, and all I could think was I couldn’t let someone else I love get hurt.”
I gasped, and my eyes watered. “Love?”
“Yeah,” he replied, not looking away from me. “I love you. I know it’s soon and—”
“I love you too! So much.”
“And that’s why it hurt even more, right? What happened?”
I looked down and nodded. “Yes.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I don’t ever want to make you feel that way.” This time Jake did reach over. He cupped my face and tilted my head up so I looked at him again. “I want you to know you’re safe in my arms, but that I know you’re strong outside of them too. I want to comfort you, not control you. If you need me, I’ll be there, but I’ll always respect your wishes and I’ll always see your strength.”
He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, then opened them again. “And I, um…I talked to my mom. You were right, that night after the barbecue. There are some things in my past I need to work through. I’m doing that. Mom and I are going to go to therapy. There’s so much inside my head that I never let out, never dealt with. I kept pushing forward, trying to be strong.”
“I know. You’re safe in my arms too, Jake. I’ve spent my whole life letting other people control me or be my strength, and you’ve spent yours putting your feelings aside to be brave for others. You can be vulnerable with me. You can depend on me. You don’t have to always be strong.”
Then…then I crawled toward him, got onto his lap, and Jake wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face in his chest, twined my arms around him too, and we held each other. It wasn’t just Jake comforting me; it was taking comfort in each other. Being vulnerable for each other and strong for each other. Complementing each other.
“I missed this,” Jake said.
“I missed it too. I love the way it feels when we hold each other.”
“Can I tell you a little more? About Mom and my past?”
“You can always talk to me.”
We lay down on the couch together, and I held Jake while he talked. I listened and lent him my strength the way he so often did for me. We spoke more about Saturday night, and my mom, and I knew that everything was going to be okay.
When we were done, I kissed him softly. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Enough to have dinner with my mom tomorrow night? I’d like you to