I buy a six-pack, and hit the road again. I head out of the suburbs, into the countryside. Find a back road and burn up the dirt. Follow the twists and turns until we come to one of my favorite spots. It’s little more than a grassy knoll overlooking a creek, but it’s secluded and beautiful and quiet. There’s a fallen tree by the bank of the creek, perfect for sitting on and watching the water flow. I grab the six-pack from the back seat, step out of the truck, and make my way to the tree.
Ben follows, and I take a seat on the trunk, twist the tops off two beers and hand him one.
I take a long swallow, and then glance at him. “Got anything you wanna say before I start talking?”
Ben take a sip, shakes his head. “Nope.”
I shrug. “All right. Well, I expect you to listen, Ben. Not just hear me, but actively listen. Okay?” He nods. “You’re trying to dig a hole in the sand, Ben. You’re never going to get anywhere doing what you’re doing.”
Ben frowns. “What the f**k is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re waiting for something that’ll probably never happen.” I pause, drink, and start again. “Look. Let’s forget the fact that we’re talking about my daughter for a minute, okay? I’m just Colt, and you’re Ben. You’re my best friend’s kid. You’re like a son to me, Ben. I’ve watched you grow up. I’ve watched you grow into a hell of a good athlete, and a good man.”
“But?” Ben prompts.
“But you gotta let her go, kid.”
“I can’t. I’ve tried. Fuck, have I tried. I work out like a f**king lunatic. Condition, practice, study. Stay away as much as possible. Try not to think about her. But…it’s f**king hopeless, Colt. I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t—I can’t stop hoping and wishing and praying that she’ll change her mind. I dream about her. I have this recurring dream that she’s waiting for me after practice one day, and she tells me how wrong she was, that she made the wrong choice and she wants me. That she loves me back. It’s torture. I wake up just before she kisses me, just before her lips touch mine, and I realize it was all a dream, and…I just want to rip my f**king heart out. Except she’s already done that.”
The pain in his voice makes my heart ache for him. I finish my beer and toy with the bottle, slowly peeling the label off and sticking the shreds down the neck. “She didn’t mean to, Ben.”
“No. I know that. But is that really supposed to make me feel better?” His voice takes on a mocking tone. “‘Oh, well, see Ben, the girl you’ve loved your whole life didn’t mean to rip your heart out and shit in the hole, so it’s fine. Just forget about her.’”
I sigh. “No, you’re right. I suppose that isn’t any consolation. But here’s a shitty fact of life, Ben: sometimes you get your heart stomped on, and there’s just no consolation. Sometimes you get hurt, and there’s nothing that will make you feel better. No way to mitigate the pain, no way to change the facts. You just hurt. It f**king sucks.” I crack another beer, hand it to Ben, and one for myself. “Tell me the truth. You love her? You really love her?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“What does that mean, for you?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He swirls the amber liquid in the bottle, staring down at it, thinking. “It means I want to be around her all the time. I want to talk to her. It means I want a physical relationship with her. It means I think she’s talented and beautiful and amazing. My life isn’t the same without her in it. I miss her.”
I nod. “Sounds about right. Except…that ain’t love. That’s your feelings. How you feel. What do you want for her? You ever hear that old John Mayer song, ‘Love Is a Verb’?” He shakes his head. “Look it up some time. But do you hear what that means? Love isn’t just something you feel, Ben. I hate to sound like I’m Confucius or Yoda or some shit, but it’s just the plain facts. You like who Kylie is, and you want her. Okay, that’s all good and well, but so what? What are you going to do about it? Not to put too fine a point on it, or sound harsh, but you waited too long. Your reasons for waiting were admirable and respectable, and exactly what I would expect from a guy like you. But you lost your chance. Kylie’s in love with someone else, and I don’t see that changing. And even if, let’s say her and Oz don’t work out. Are you really gonna just wait around for that possibility? And if that were to happen, is that really how you’d want to get the girl? With her heart broken? On the rebound of pain? I know the feeling of rejection is f**king harsh, Ben. I do. Trust me on that shit. But having your heart broken when a relationship breaks down and ends, that’s even worse. You know what you had, and it was taken from you. It’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all. Isn’t that how the quote goes?”
Ben shakes his head, swallowing the mouthful of beer he’d just taken. “Almost.” He takes a deep breath and then lifts his head, staring at the sky. “‘I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it when I sorrow most; ’tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.’ That’s ‘In Memoriam A.H.H.’ by Tennyson.”
I’m impressed. “Damn, Ben. You can quote poetry?”
He shrugs, laughing. “Yeah. I like poetry. I get it from Mom, I think.”
I nod. “Pretty badass.” I pause to sip. “Well, see, sometimes I think that phrase is just complete horseshit. Losing love f**king blows and, yeah, you may have the memory of the time you had with that person, but you also have the absolute agony of having lost them. I’m not sure it’s an even trade.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t know.” Ben’s voice is thick with bitterness.
I ignore that and keep going. “Getting back to my original point. Love is something you do. It’s active. You show it. If I relied on my feelings for Nell all the time, we’d have broken up a long time ago. We’ve gotten in some really bad arguments over the years. The kind where we’re both spitting mad at each other, can’t even look at each other. My feelings of love in those situations aren’t worth shit, because all I feel is wronged and pissed off and ready to walk away. But you know what keeps me from doing anything stupid? The choice to practice love.” I jab my finger into his arm as I emphasize the word. “The decision to ignore my feelings and focus on the fact that, even though I don’t feel the happy, fun, exciting emotions in that situation, I do love Nell and would do anything for her. Including apologizing for something I don’t agree that I did was wrong, or let her win an argument simply to get the peace back. Now, she’d get mad about what I just said, that I ‘let’ her win. And I don’t mean that in any kind of condescending sense, Ben. I just mean, f**k, whether I’m right or not, whether she’s right or not—diffuse the fight and apologize, or do whatever it takes to get back to where the feelings will do some good. And, in your case, you love Kylie, but what are you gonna do about it? Are you going to keep moping around, glaring at her, staring at her, getting mad when you see her and Oz together? Or are you going to make a choice to do what’s best for her?”