Free Less Than Perfect Circumstance by Kristofer Clarke

time. I needed Kelvin to come clean. Regardless of what I knew, what I hoped wasn’t true , I still loved Kelvin .
    I found myself holding on to the little that was left between Kelvin and me, and the more I tried to hold on, the further I felt him pulling away. I didn’t like where things were going, but I felt it was inevitable.
    I had a vivid mind, and well, tonight it got the best of me . I felt tired  tired of hurting  and the more I thought, the more I realized that the hurt I felt was self-inflicted.  I didn’t know what to do. We haven’t had the chance to sit and really talk about things, and there was so much left unsaid.
    Kelvin knew I loved him. I knew no matter how hard I tried, the feelings I had for him didn’t seem to be going anywhere. I wasn’t near Kelvin to show him just how much I still loved him , but I told him every chance I got. Maybe that was part of the problem.  Could it be true? Had Kelvin found what he was looking for in someone else? What hurt the most was that I would have to face the fact that what I had known all along was true. Nothing was going to lessen the pain of Kelvin’s disclosure. If this was true, we needed closure. There was no way I could keep this up anymore.
    Sadness overtook me. I thought about what I would say if Kelvin were to admit to finding someone else to love. Though I had convinced myself I would wish them the best, tell Kelvin to always look his new man in the eyes and smile, so he knows that being with him made him happy, secretly I knew I would be wishing that the man Kelvin loved was still me.
    I wasn’t sure what kept me from sharing my thoughts with Kelvin. May it was fear, or love, or fear of not being in love that kept me silent. No matter how many times I had been hurt  and Kelvin had done some th ings that have cut me very deep  retaliating had never crossed my mind.
    I remembered one year I was looking forward to a Valentine’s Day I knew would be filled with things I wouldn’t soon forget. It was a cold January evening. February was approaching fast, and I still hadn’t finalized my plans. So much had been going on that the simple task of making reservations had slipped my mind. The next morning when I saw the note remind ing me of things I needed to get do ne, I quickly reserved a table f or two at one of my favorite restaurants. It had the best ambiance and, of course, I wanted to share this with Kelvin. Though I had giving him the details , and even reminded him, Valentine’s Day still found me sitting at home, waiting. Kelvin’s cut and dry explanation was that he had overslept, and blamed me for everything that had gone wrong that evening. I was already disappointed. What difference was one more blame going to make? Though it wasn’t the Valentine’s Day I had in mind, we did spend it together . 
     

     
     
    CHAPTER TWELVE
    WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?
    Trevor
     
     
    Simply put, I loved my dad. Robert Seymour Harrison was daddy and mommy whenever I neede d him to be.  I’ve never met my mother. Her name was Clara Rene Harrison. She died from complications during childbirth. For a long time, I blamed myself for my mother’s death. As far as I was concerned, she was fine until I came along, so it must have been something I did. I had a hard time understanding my innocence in my mother’s unfortunate accident, no matter how tirelessly my father tried to explain.
    Birthdays were met with different emotions; a bittersweet celebration as my father and grandparents trying as hard as they could to do more celebrating than mourning. It was hard fo r us to separate the two events  my birth and my mother’s death. Often I thought about the decision they all made, and I was grateful that my mother had chosen my life over hers.
    I sat in the chair at my computer and thought about writing my father a few lines, just to see how he was doing. After realizing that I had not even shared th e news of the contract with him  and I ha d