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Love Begins
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@gdi-hunter-blog
I still want to slap you but what good would that do anyone.
Donât even joke about that. I just flinched a little. Iâve been slapped randomly so many times today. I canât take it anymore.
Youâre also more prone to depression and Vitamin D deficiency if you become a recluse. For example, Emily Dickinson was an awesome poet, but she was a recluse and despised life.
Well, I was definitely hoping Iâd inspire a comparison like Ernest Hemingway or Stephen King before Emily Dickinson, but I suppose itâs nice to know there is, in fact, a disparity between my perceived and actual self.
I ruin lots of things. Refresh my memory Mr. Not an Arsehole, what did you order?
Youâre a chipper one, arenât you? I just ordered a beer - whateverâs on tap, but now Iâm a little frightened you might spit in it.
âWhoâre you scared of gettinâ hit by?â
âThe entire female population.â
âNope. You know me. I try not to listen to gossip and all that other bullshit. If you tell me, I wonât slap you. Swear it. Iâm sure whatever it is, itâs not as bad as you think it is.â
âI may have gotten a girl pregnant, told her I loved her, and then left the same night.â
âThereâs the condition that you have to talk to me, though. Iâm not just here to look pretty.â
âAw, but youâre just about as pretty as a picture when you arenât running your mouth.âÂ
âIf? Iâm â Iâm Asia,â
âAs it turns out, the woman most affected by my character flaw wants absolutely, positively, nothing to do with me. I might as well go back to the Valley if thatâs the case. Itâs nice to meet you, Asia. Iâm Hunter.â
"It happens to everyone at some point, right? I mean, youâre not the first guy to knock up some girl. It takes two to tango, so itâs not entirely your fault. Donât be so hard on yourself."
âYes, I suppose.. But it does only take one to leave in the middle of the night.â
Then be proud of that. Iâm not saying flaunt it but youâre going to get a little backlash. I can understand why theyâd be angry but donât worry I wonât slap you.
Thank you, I appreciate it, really. My cheek has had just about all it can take as of late.
âLike I said, not much to judge. Iâve done things iâm not proud of. But youâre owning up to it at least, thatâs somethingâ
âTrying, at least. Itâs a lot harder than I thought. Even more so because my ex wants nothing to do with me. Itâs a damn good time.â
Hunter had never been the kind to wear his heart upon his sleeve in the time she had known him â they were both too stubborn and proud back then. Their split had ripped that from her for a time, the tease of love leaving her broken and vulnerable in its wake. Sheâd never tell him as much, of course. Sheâd always put on a brave face and had to anyone ever since. Now, though, she could see real emotion in Hunterâs eyes, something that very nearly drew something like sympathy from the seething young woman. The feeling was quickly squashed though â why would she need to be the one feeling sorry for him? He left and heâd had two years to make the decision to come back. The window of opportunity for him to reenter into hers and Maxâs lives had, in Linnyâs mind, long since closed. He should have been there through the pregnancy, through the midnight munchies and the pains of labor. He should have held her hand through the tremors and been there when she brought their son into the world. He should have been there to see little Max smile for the first time, to see hear him laugh, to cuddle, hold, and support the child heâd had just as much a part as she in making. âWhy?â Linny asked, the hurt conjured up from her own string of thoughts evident in her voice. âWhy would you want to see him? Why now? Canât you just leave us again? You certainly had no problem two years ago. We donât need you here.â It was probably wrong of her to be speaking for the child when she wasnât considered suitable enough to raise him herself but she was trying. That was more than Hunter could say and she was sure of it. Linny couldnât look at him again and was grateful when her name was actually being called by the friendly barista and she could take the slow steps from their table to the counter and back again, comforting drink in hand. She sat and took a shaky breath, willing down the influx of emotions that had risen to the surface. âWhy should I let you see him, Hunter? Give me one good reason.â
Hunter had always considered himself to be a highly logical person. When he found it in himself to leave the girl he loved and their unborn child, it was from a place of cold rationality that put himself above all others. It had been a childish decision rooted in a selfish desire for success and revenge. He never told anyone about the life he left behind in Colorado, but he would be lying if he said he never thought about it. In fact, the questions often kept him up at night - flames sparking up just as he was about to drift into sleep, haunting his dreams with the agony of a decision too hastily made. Now, though, Hunter was being ruled by emotion - a precarious state he didnât often let himself slip into. There was a little voice in his head that told him not to go off the rails - that told him passion wouldnât convince her, and rationality would. That was the way he always lived his life, but how far had it really gotten him? âWhy?â he repeated, his brow furrowing further as the water threatened to spill from his blue gaze. âBecause I donât believe for one second that youâre okay with the idea of your son growing up thinking his dad never thought once about him. Because no matter how much you tell him Iâm a douche that doesnât care about either of you, I donât believe that you want to believe it. I donât think you want your son to believe that, either.â Hunterâs lips formed a taut line as he quieted for a moment, trying to quell the emotions that had suddenly risen in his chest with the simple idea of being a father. âI donât think you care about me, or if I get to meet my son at all,â he said quietly, just so the two of them could hear. âBut I think you want your son to know the awful thing Iâve done, and know that I came crawling back, but it was you two that turned me down after showing me all Iâd missed. Not the other way around.â Hunter raised his eyes to meet hers, a finality to the look on his face. âIs that a good enough reason?â
"When you put an âaâ in front of something, it insinuates an action or a thing, not a person, you misinterpreted it! For fuck sakes, do you honestly think Iâm saying something you did before you even met me was just to impact me? No, Iâm sorry that my inability to automatically give someone the benefit of the doubt in this kind of circumstance has to coincide with my poster child status, common sense doesnât exist in my bloodline and Iâm no exception, if you havenât noticed. And before I say Iâm done talking about this, donât call her my mom again, sheâs merely a genetic donor, thereâs a difference. Now, Iâm done talking about this. Of course not, youâre pretty much going back and forth on yourself. Donât apologize, okay? Not to me. How is that supposed to make me feel any better, Hunt? Itâs a good thing, it really is, but all of this is only making me sad⊠And why couldnât you trust me enough to tell me this when Iâve told you everything?â
"Aramis, I donât even fucking know what weâre talking about anymore, can we just stop arguing?! No, I donât. I was highlighting how ridiculous your arugment sounded! I didnât do this to hurt you or dredge up old feelings about your genetic donor, fuck. Yeah, great fucking deduction. Iâm going back and forth on myself because I havenât given myself time to think about this ever. After I left, I shut it out of my mind because if I started to question it, Iâd go crazy, and thatâs exactly what the fuck is happening right now. I donât know, Ara. I donât know how to make any of this better, but Iâm trying. I didnât want to tell you because I never said it out loud. I didnât want to admit it to myself, so why the hell would I want to admit it to my best friend, who has just as many issues as I do about it? I donât know. It wasnât you, Ara. It was me. It still is me.â
âI mean, I donât hate you or anything. We all have stuff we arenât proud of. And I couldnât even say wanker without laughing so..â
âGood to know at least one person doesnât think Iâm some sort of misogynist Satan.â
âDunno what happened, but hidinâ your face from judgmental, stuck up assholes? Nah, fuck that. Who gives a shit what they think?â
âIâm not so scared of judgment as I am of getting hit.â