I Think I Know

I went to see Mom today.

I went to the temple first.

I had therapy this morning. Video call. Dr. May wanted to talk about last night.

We had dinner at Meela’s.

It was perfect.

I don’t think I’ve said that about anything in a while but it really was. Everybody came. Dad, Kenji, Akiko. The girls were so happy. Akello was running around like she owned the place and Alaia was getting passed around so much I barely got to hold her.

Dad brought corn.

Actual corn.

He wanted to teach Meela how to make his cornbread. I almost died when I saw him carrying it into her kitchen. But she was so excited. She was laughing and asking him questions and he was explaining everything like he was passing down some ancient family secret.

I stood there watching them for a while.

I used to make his cornbread every week for our family dinners in Dowon.

Meela told him that.

I saw his face.

I don’t think she meant anything by it. She was just telling him how much we loved the recipe. But I saw his face and I knew.

All those dinners he wasn’t at.

All those times I could’ve called him. Could’ve sent him a picture. Could’ve told him he had a granddaughter. Then another one.

I didn’t.

I just kept making the fucking cornbread.

And somehow I never thought about what that meant.

Meela noticed too. She told him mine wasn’t nearly as good as his. She was probably right. He laughed and started showing her what I’d been doing wrong.

I don’t know how she does that.

She sees people.

She always has.

Kenji was good last night. Really good. He was talking to me. Actually talking to me. Not just answering questions or being polite because Dad was there.

We laughed about something. I don’t even remember what.

I just remember hearing him laugh and realizing how long it’s been since I heard that sound when he was talking to me.

For a little while it felt normal.

My brother was there. My dad was there. My sister was there. My wife was there. My daughters were there.

Everybody I love in one room.

I was happy.

I was so fucking happy.

And then I went home.

Alone.

Dr. May asked how I felt after dinner.

I told her I was happy.

She asked what else.

I hate when she does that.

Why does there always have to be something else?

But there was.

I was sad. I was jealous. I was angry. I don’t know.

I wanted to go upstairs with Meela when everybody left. I wanted to help get the girls ready for bed. I wanted to wake up next to her this morning and complain about how much food Dad made us eat.

I wanted my life back.

I told Dr. May that.

She asked if I wanted my life back or if I wanted to undo what I’d done.

I said both.

She said those aren’t necessarily the same thing.

I know that.

I know.

She asked me something else.

She asked what I was afraid of before all this happened.

I told her I wasn’t afraid of anything. We were happy. Meela was happy. The girls were healthy. Things were good.

And she said, “What about you?”

I was happy.

I was.

I need to write that because I keep feeling like I’m supposed to find something wrong with my marriage to explain what I did.

There wasn’t anything wrong with Meela.

She didn’t neglect me. She didn’t make me feel unwanted. She didn’t stop loving me after the girls were born.

She was tired sometimes. Of course she was. We had a baby and a toddler and two businesses and jobs and a whole life.

But she still made time for me.

She still looked at me like I was the most interesting person in the room.

She’d come to my job with donuts. Just to see me. Sometimes she’d stand there telling people how proud she was of me and I’d be embarrassed because she was making such a big deal out of everything.

I loved it though.

God I loved it.

I just didn’t always believe her.

I told Dr. May about my job.

About Jill.

I don’t think I’ve really told anyone how much that fucked me up.

I worked so hard to get where I was. I was good at it. I was actually good at something that had nothing to do with my family or Meela or being the guy everybody liked.

I had a career.

I wanted more.

I wanted to keep moving up. I wanted to be somebody.

Jill kept coming on to me and I kept telling her no.

And she fired me.

Just like that.

I did what I was supposed to do and I lost everything I’d worked for.

I got another opportunity but I was starting over. My old assistant was above me now. I had to listen to people explain things to me that I used to explain to them.

I hated it.

I hated smiling through it. I hated pretending I wasn’t humiliated.

Meela was still proud of me.

That almost made it worse.

Not because she did anything wrong.

Because I kept wondering what she’d think if she knew how small I felt.

I didn’t want her to see me like that.

Dr. May asked why.

I don’t know.

I keep saying that.

I dont know.

I dont know.

I dont know.

She asked what I thought Meela would do if I wasn’t successful.

I told her nothing. She’d love me anyway.

And I meant it.

I know she would.

So why did I feel like I had something to prove?

I started thinking about Cahaya.

About the guys.

I haven’t talked to some of my old roommates in so long. They moved to Dowon with me. We were supposed to be figuring everything out together.

At some point I stopped showing up.

Stopped calling. Stopped answering messages right away. Then stopped answering at all.

I told myself we were growing apart.

Different lives. Different priorities.

But I think I was embarrassed.

They knew me before all this.

Before I was somebody’s husband. Before I had a career. Before I had kids.

They knew the guy who spent his days at the beach and flirted with tourists and didn’t have a plan for anything.

I thought they’d look at me and see somebody pretending.

Pretending to be grown.

Pretending to be important.

Pretending to know what the fuck he was doing.

I thought they’d know I was a fraud.

Dr. May asked if any of them had ever said that to me.

No.

Of course not.

They were happy for me.

I think they were genuinely happy for me.

And I stopped talking to them anyway.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I spent years trying to convince myself I’d become this different person.

A husband. A father. A man with a career.

But I kept waiting for somebody to tell me I wasn’t any of those things.

And nobody did.

Not until I did it to myself.

We talked about my manager.

I told Dr. May I was afraid of losing my job again.

And I was.

She’d been flirting with me for a while. I told her no. More than once.

I kept thinking about Jill.

What if this happened again?

What if I lost everything again because I wouldn’t give somebody what they wanted?

I told myself I could just be nice. Flirt a little. Keep things easy. Make sure she liked me.

I could handle it.

I could control it.

I couldn’t.

Dr. May asked why I kissed her.

I said I was scared.

She asked why I kissed her again.

I didn’t have an answer.

She waited.

I hate how long she can sit there without saying anything.

I told her I didn’t want that woman.

I didn’t.

I wasn’t looking for somebody else. I wasn’t unhappy with Meela. I wasn’t fantasizing about leaving my family.

I didn’t even particularly like her.

But she wanted me.

And I liked that.

Fuck.

I liked it.

I liked being wanted without having to prove anything.

I liked not being the guy who got demoted. Not being the guy who had to swallow his pride every day.

I liked feeling like I was the one making the decisions.

And Jill was there.

I knew she was there.

I keep thinking about that.

She’d wanted me and I’d told her no and she’d taken my job away.

And now she was watching somebody else get what I’d refused to give her.

I think part of me wanted her to see it.

I hate writing that.

I hate that I can even think it.

I was angry at Jill. I was scared of my manager. I was embarrassed about my career.

And somehow Meela was the one who paid for all of it.

I didn’t stop after the first kiss.

I didn’t stop when I should have.

I held her. I kissed her again.

I let myself enjoy it.

Not her.

The feeling.

For a few minutes I got to be somebody who didn’t have to think about anything.

I didn’t have to think about whether I was a good husband or a good father or whether I was going to lose my job.

I just had to be wanted.

And I threw away the trust of the woman who had wanted me every single day.

I don’t know how to live with that.

I really don’t.

Dr. May asked me if I thought I deserved my life.

I laughed.

What kind of question is that?

Of course I did.

I worked for it.

We worked for it.

But she asked again.

And I couldn’t answer.

Because I think somewhere along the way I started believing Meela was going to figure out I wasn’t enough.

That she’d wake up one day and realize she’d married some guy from a tourist island who followed her home because he couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving.

That she’d realize she could have anybody.

Anybody.

And she chose me.

She kept choosing me.

Even when I made it difficult.

Even when I was insecure. Even when I was stubborn. Even when I was too proud to tell her I was struggling.

She chose me.

And I kept testing her.

Would she still love me if I wasn’t successful?

Would she still love me if I embarrassed myself?

Would she still love me if I didn’t want to do the things she wanted me to do?

I was asking questions she didn’t even know existed.

And every time she answered them without knowing it, I found another one.

Dr. May asked what I was trying to prove.

I said I wanted to know she wouldn’t leave.

She asked what I would have done if Meela had failed one of my tests.

I don’t know.

I never thought about that.

Maybe that’s the point.

I kept waiting for her to disappoint me.

And when she didn’t, I found a way to disappoint her.

I don’t think I wanted her to leave.

I know I didn’t.

But I was so scared of losing her that I spent years imagining it.

And then I gave her a reason.

A real reason.

I made the thing I was afraid of happen.

After therapy I went to the temple.

I sat there for a long time.

I kept thinking about dinner.

About Dad in the kitchen with Meela.

About Kenji laughing.

About Akiko holding Alaia.

About Akello running around the house.

I kept thinking about how none of that would have happened if I hadn’t come back.

And I hate that.

I hate that it took destroying my marriage for my family to meet my children.

Why couldn’t I just call?

Why couldn’t I tell Dad I was getting married?

Why couldn’t I tell Kenji I needed him?

Why couldn’t I tell Meela I was scared?

I had so many people who loved me.

I had so many people I could have talked to.

And I kept choosing silence.

Then I went to see Mom.

I stood there for a while before I could even say anything.

I haven’t been there in years.

Years.

I left her there.

I left Dad there. Kenji. Akiko.

I told myself I had to go. That I needed something different. That there was nothing left for me here.

That wasn’t true.

There was so much here.

I just couldn’t stand being here without her.

Everything reminded me of her.

The house. The business. The beach.

Even the fucking cornbread.

I couldn’t stand watching Dad try to keep everything together.

I couldn’t stand watching Kenji become somebody who never got to fall apart because the rest of us needed him to be strong.

And I didn’t know how to help.

I used to think leaving was the brave thing.

Going somewhere new. Starting over. Building a life.

Maybe I was just running.

I ran from the place where Mom died.

I ran from the people who knew how badly it hurt.

And when I found Meela, I thought I’d finally found somewhere I could stop.

She made everything feel possible.

She made me feel possible.

I don’t think I ever told her that.

I told Mom about the girls.

I told her about Akello.

How stubborn she is. How she makes this little face when she’s decided she isn’t going to listen to anybody.

She would’ve loved that.

I told her about Alaia.

She’s still so little.

I told her how Dad held them last night.

How happy he was.

I wish Mom could’ve seen it.

I wish she could’ve met Meela.

God she would’ve loved Meela.

I think about that a lot.

Mom would’ve loved how she laughs. How she talks to everybody like she’s known them forever. How she makes people feel important.

She would’ve loved how she doesn’t let anybody tell her what she can and can’t do.

She probably would’ve told me not to let that one get away.

And I would’ve laughed.

Because I never thought I would.

I cried.

I cried so hard I couldn’t breathe.

I don’t remember the last time I cried like that.

I told her I was sorry.

For leaving.

For not coming back.

For not letting Dad know his granddaughters.

For making Kenji feel like he wasn’t important to me.

For everything.

And then I started talking about Meela.

I told Mom what I did.

I actually said it out loud.

I cheated on my wife.

I kissed another woman.

More than once.

I held her like I had any right to.

While my wife was home with our newborn daughter.

Our newborn daughter.

I keep coming back to that.

Alaia had just been born.

Meela had just given me another little girl.

And I did that to her.

I don’t know how she even looked at me last night.

I don’t know how she stood in that kitchen with my father and smiled.

I don’t know how she made everybody feel welcome when I made her feel like she wasn’t enough.

She was always enough.

She was more than enough.

I was the one who didn’t believe I was.

And I made that her problem.

I think that’s what I’ve been trying not to say.

I didn’t cheat because I stopped loving Meela.

I didn’t cheat because I wanted somebody else.

I cheated because I was scared and ashamed and selfish and for a few minutes I liked feeling like somebody wanted me without knowing anything about me.

I knew it was wrong.

I knew.

And I did it anyway.

I don’t get to blame Jill.

I don’t get to blame my manager.

I don’t get to blame my career or being tired or becoming a father or missing home.

Those things were real.

But I made the choice.

Me.

I keep thinking about something Dr. May said.

She asked who I was when nobody was telling me who to be.

I didn’t know.

I still don’t know.

But I think I’ve spent so much time trying to be the man I thought Meela deserved that I forgot she already loved the man I was.

She loved that stupid guy on the island.

She loved him when he was angry with her for leaving.

She loved him when he followed her to Dowon.

She loved him when he had nothing figured out.

She loved him when he started figuring things out.

She loved him when he failed.

She loved him when he succeeded.

And I didn’t trust it.

I thought I had to keep earning something she’d already given me.

I thought one day she’d see me the way I saw myself.

And then she’d leave.

I never considered that maybe she saw me clearly the whole time.

Maybe she saw the things I was ashamed of and loved me anyway.

Maybe I was the only one who thought I was pretending.

I sat by Mom’s grave until I couldn’t cry anymore.

I wanted her to tell me what to do.

I wanted Kenji to tell me what to do.

I wanted somebody to tell me I could fix this.

But nobody can.

I don’t even know if Meela wants me to.

I keep thinking about the way she looked at me at dinner.

She smiled. She talked to me. She made sure I had a plate.

But it wasn’t the same.

Of course it wasn’t.

I wanted to reach for her so many times.

I wanted to put my hand on her back when she walked past me.

I wanted to kiss her forehead while she was cooking.

I wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked.

I wanted to go home with her.

I wanted to be the man she could trust again.

And I couldn’t do any of those things.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get to.

I think I finally understand something.

I’ve spent my whole life being afraid that the people I love would leave me.

Mom didn’t choose to leave.

Kenji didn’t leave.

Dad didn’t leave.

Meela didn’t leave.

I did.

I left my family.

I left my friends.

And then I made a choice that could cost me my wife and daughters.

I keep asking why everybody is so far away.

I think I know now.

I put the distance there.

I don’t know what happens next.

I don’t know if Meela will ever forgive me.

I don’t know if Kenji will.

I don’t even know if I forgive myself.

But I can’t keep running.

I can’t keep asking everybody else to tell me who I am.

I have two little girls who need their father.

I have a brother who needed me long before I decided I needed him.

I have a father who spent years waiting for me to call.

And I have a wife who gave me a life I loved.

I loved it.

I need to stop acting like I didn’t.

I was happy.

I was loved.

And I ruined it.

I think I finally know why.

I just wish knowing could change what I did.