Drowning your regrets won't heal you

This is an excerpt from my novel, Moonchildren. You can read more here.

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Everyone wants to feel like they mean something. Even if you believe that humans are all born for no reason, and that life has no meaning, nobody wants to spend their entire lives alone. Some insist they prefer isolation, that other people are too much effort and time. Some insist it’s safer or more comfortable to be alone. Maybe this is true. Even if someone spends their entire life in solitude, they deserve to feel like their existence means something.

The Divine is present in everyone, and in everything. Nature, and all of its creatures and creations, is sacred. People are sacred - because they are alive, and because they possess a soul. Rio never really believed in coincidence. Every action is connected to one another by ripple effects, so that nothing ever occurs in isolation, or without purpose. He’s believed this for years. Religion isn’t something that can be pushed onto someone. You can teach others about things that bring you comfort. You can share your own beliefs and understanding with those who are receptive to hearing about them. You can have your own dreams and hopes for someone else - but your dreams are just that: yours.

“Your father and I can’t tell you who to believe in or what to understand,” Surya insisted, when Rio became curious, “It’s your calling. Only you can choose your own path.”

There are many things about Rio that don’t make sense to others. He’s only ever been certain of three things. All living things are valuable. Nobody is inherently good or evil. Magic exists within all of us, and those who don’t believe in it will never find it.

He’s always busy. Nursing school is challenging and stressful. Studying and work take up most of his time. He calls home when he can; it’s expensive, and his parents are never free at the same time as him. Sage never checks in with him. They send occasional links to new songs, but rarely ask about his life. This isn’t bothersome. Sage's lecture plays in his head when he tries to distract himself from silence.

After class, Rio plays soccer with some friends. Growing up, he sometimes played sports with his siblings. Cassia loved swimming and baseball. Sage preferred tennis and tag.

Home is always quiet. Rio struggles with silence, because being alone with your thoughts and fears is frightening, and he’s never been very interested in practising. Drowning your regrets won’t heal you. They say time heals all wounds, but it doesn’t. Some wounds stay forever. All time does is make it easier to live around them.

“How was your day?”

When Rio goes out with his husband, people sometimes comment on their relationship. It seems there’s never a shortage of stupid comments, and many haven’t ever been creative. He’s only with you because he feels bad for you, people have said to Ivo, not realizing he already speaks this way about himself. It’s hard to prove your affection to those who have never experienced love before. Rio’s father always said that the most hateful comments come from the most insecure people.

Ivo doesn’t have many hobbies. When he isn’t napping, he plays with the kitten or listens to a record. Once a week, he attends physiotherapy, though this rarely happens without a fight. He’s a stubborn boy, and refuses to use mobility aids outside of the house, despite struggling without them. He uses the computer once or twice a week, always as anonymously as possible, and still refuses to get a cell phone. Rio supposes everyone has to start somewhere.

On the dresser in the mens’ bedroom, there are several gripping aids and mountains of medications. Ivo says most of them don’t work anyway, but he’s wary of doctors, and goes only when absolutely unavoidable.

Why would you marry a man who talks to you like that? Don’t you have any self-respect?

Ivo doesn’t want to be known as a fool. Rio doesn’t mean to brag, but he’s more emotionally mature than most men his age. At night, Ivo falls asleep very close to him in bed, using him as a pillow, always wondering where Rio’s gone when he wakes up alone.

He wears Rio’s shirts, and refuses to take them off. If he’s trying to be annoying, Rio will never say a thing. Ivo lies on his stomach in bed, the room dim and cold, the kitten napping at his side. For a guy who claims to dislike cats, he doesn’t go anywhere without Kaj. It must be a bad pain day today. On these days, Ivo wears only his underwear, because all other clothing hurts when it touches his skin. He speaks flatly, his face muffled by a pillow. “There’s no point.”

Pim’s journal rarely gets opened. Ivo hides things under the bed, and then forgets they even exist at all. It’s becoming harder and harder to get him out of bed in the morning.

When Rio leaves for school, he has no way of calling home. Ivo gets frustrated with him when he checks in; he’s not a child, and he can take care of himself. If there was ever an emergency, Ivo would refuse to ask anyone for help. “That’s kind of pessimistic, Ivo. Are you having a bad day again?”

You can’t change a person. What you can do is convince them they deserve to be loved without being changed at all.

"My body always hurts, even when I take my painkillers.” Ivo usually speaks harshly. It’s still unfamiliar when he’s gloomy instead. “I stumble when I walk because I can’t feel my feet. I can’t hold things without dropping them. I can’t even see your stupid face clearly.” He rolls over, and stares at the ceiling. “If that’s going to be the rest of my life, what’s the point of life at all?”

In middle school, Rio dated a girl with depression. He got her gifts, and gave her compliments, and although she was appreciative, she was still sad. It was his father who’d told him that you can love a person with all of your heart, and this still won’t fix their brain.

He lies next to Ivo. He could point out that things can get better, or that he’ll learn to adapt over time - but this is not what Ivo wants to hear. “Think of one thing that makes life worth living. Even something small, like listening to your favorite music.” Rio has heard his father say this to clients, and it almost always makes a difference. “Maybe it’s Kaj. Maybe it’s sitting outside and listening to the rain.” Ivo hates Rio’s positivity exercises. Changing your way of thinking doesn’t always make things better, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

The bedroom is always clean. Rio doesn’t care one way or the other about clutter, but gets up early to make sure the room is tidy before leaving for the day.

Ivo looks at him. Probably, he’ll say something cynical. Rio never knows what to expect.

Do you know something that makes life worth living, Daddy? All the animals in nature. I wish I could be friends with all of them.

“It’s you.”

Intimacy comes in all kinds of forms. You can be intimate with someone by sitting and watching a movie, or by discussing childhood memories, or by participating in a hobby together. When the numbness in Ivo’s hands is more painful than usual, he lets Rio wash and comb his hair.

“Me?”

He plays with Ivo’s hair, which is coarse and thin. “Of all the things you could have chosen, you chose me? I’m honored.” It’s hard to be vulnerable. It’s hard to talk seriously about emotional topics, even if you spend your whole life practicing. Rio’s never really meant that much to others either. People care about him, sure, but he doesn’t exactly make a life-changing impression on others, and he’s certainly never made anyone else’s life worth living.

Ivo scowls. “You’re an idiot.”

Attraction works in strange and confusing ways. Sometimes it sneaks up on you. Sometimes, it’s blatant and persistent. Everybody knows attraction never happens the way you expect it to. Sometimes, Rio struggles to figure out if he’s attracted to someone romantically, or if he just likes the way they look. His attraction to Ivo began with superficial interest: he’s objectively pretty, because he doesn’t look like most people. There’s something unusual and interesting about a teenager who dresses like an old man. Ivo’s looks caught his attention, but there had to have been something else that kept it.

Rio kisses him. “I love you.” He won’t hear it back: not in these exact words, anyway. It doesn’t matter how you say it. Body language always speaks for itself.

Since his injury, Ivo can’t get hard without the help of medications. He’s embarrassed by this, even though it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He holds onto Rio tightly, and then claims he wouldn’t give a fuck if he left. Some days, Ivo hurts when Rio touches him. He always makes this known. Other days, he falls asleep on Rio’s chest and makes it very hard to get up and leave.

“Are you in a lot of pain today?” Rio hates leaving his husband. He’s never had trouble leaving anyone before. “Can I give you a massage?”

What does it feel like to be in love, Rio? Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one in the world who will never know.

Have you ever had a hobby that took up all of your energy, so that it was all you could think about, and you can’t stop talking about it to anyone who will listen? It’s like that.

Their relationship is different now. It possesses a tenderness that it didn’t before. When Ivo agrees to be touched, Rio massages him gently until he falls asleep.

Rio always believed in the supernatural. There’s a difference between a ghost and a spirit, and he has seen both. Cassia isn’t a ghost, but she appears at random and makes Rio feel comforted. She shows up in his dreams: always bringing the same childlike innocence she possessed in life. Amani and Surya are superstitious, and their children are the same way. Rio hears his sister’s favorite song, or feels her hand on his shoulder when nothing is touching him at all. Cassia never blamed him for her death. If she had, she’d have stayed a ghost, stuck inside the house for the rest of eternity, never crossing over to Summerland.

“This is my big brother,” she’d say, following him around, “He teaches me magic.”

Growing up is never a guarantee. Life is precarious and short, and only the most privileged get to watch themselves get old.

It’s Mabon. Rio prepares his altar with harvest foods: squash, seeds, corn, and autumn colors like oranges and browns. One of the most-well known myths about Mabon relates to Demeter, Goddess of the grain and the harvest. Demeter’s daughter, Persephone, caught the eye of Hades, who abducted her and brought her to the underworld. This caused so much grief within Demeter that all the crops on Earth dried out and died. When she finally got her daughter back, Persephone had eaten six pomegranate seeds, dooming herself to spend six months of each year in the underworld. In Neopaganism, these six months are the time when Earth dies in preparation for winter, beginning at the autumn equinox.

During the autumn equinox, Rio leaves offerings for the Dark Mother, and participates in rituals with his coven. This is hard to do in another city, but he and his family always make time for one another. He leaves pomegranate seeds and red wine, the way he always did with his parents when he was young.

“What are you doing?”

It’s dark: only a flickering light of a flame bringing life to the room. If you listen closely, sometimes you can hear the spirits. Ivo moves quietly, sneaking up on people.

“I’m leaving offerings.” Ivo dislikes the smell of incense. Despite this, he doesn’t complain when Rio lights a stick. “I know you think it’s stupid. It’s Mabon. I like to show my appreciation to deities.”

Kaj plays with the altar decorations, and nibbles on the leaves. Ivo frowns, rubbing at his eyes, mumbling to himself. “It’s not stupid.”

People can surprise you sometimes. Rio surprises people all the time. “What?”

The incense smells like cinnamon. Cassia hated the smell of cinnamon. “It’s not stupid,” says Ivo again, louder. He sits next to Rio at the altar, and then stands as if he can’t decide what to do with himself. “It’s important to you.”

After jumping and leaping, Kaj falls asleep. Rearranging things on the altar, Rio lights a second candle. “Sit with me. You don’t have to participate.” He loves Ivo’s harsh exterior. He loves Ivo’s vulnerable side, too. He loves it especially because no one else gets to see it. “Come on. You can keep me company.”

He expects the boy to walk away. After letting himself be vulnerable, Ivo usually gets upset and defensive. He’s a work in progress, but so is everyone else, too. He stands silently for a moment or two, saying nothing when Rio continues his ritual. Then he sits, soundlessly, looking more human than he’s ever looked before.