If you’ve been around here for a while, you know I’m (slowly but surely) in the process of writing a novella.

If you have no clue what I’m talking about, or if you’d like a refresher, here’s the related previous posts :

**Writing My Way Through Memory: The Novella That Found Me** (Intro)

Bad Reputation (2007–2009): The First Chapter of My Novella In Progress

I felt like it was as good a time as any to share chapter 2, so here goes… Happy Holidays!! 💚🎄

Chapter 2 : 2012 : Smell of Gasoline

Days before my 26th birthday, an interesting post popped up on my Facebook feed : “We, as people, need to be who we are, not what we have been made into. We need to open our eyes and realize where we are and where we should be. Destructive behaviors lead to self destruction and not enlightenment. Life is about the choices we make…good, bad or indifferent. We have the power to change anything”

“How strikingly articulate. And contemplative,” I thought to myself. “Looks like he made it home safe!”

I gave it a “thumbs up”.

I’d almost forgot he existed. Occasionally I’d see coverage of the war on TV at the hospital, & quietly send out some loving & protective vibes to the universe for him. But that was about it.

---

Then I got pissed off over changes in management at the hospital & found myself back at The Apple. My zen.

As I organized the cash in my register one afternoon, I heard a, “Hey! Long time no see!”

I looked up & did a quadruple take. “Holy shit, how are you?!?”

“Umm..I had another kid!” he laughed as he held up the toddler in his arms. “Yeah, that’s a whole story…” he trailed off with a tone of regret.

I chuckled. “I’m sure it is! Well, it’s good to see you!!”

“It’s good to see you too,” he said with a breath of relief. “I’m in a rush. 20 on pump 5. Do you think I could get your number yet?”

A surprised pause and a flattered smirk, before I wrote my number down on a piece of receipt paper.

“Cool! I’ll talk to you soon, ok?!” he said as he put it in his pocket.

“Looking forward to it. Take care sweetie.”

---

We texted back & forth quite a bit, just getting to know each other.

I told him my favorite band was Green Day, though American Idiot was too “emo” for me (undeniably well written & orchestrated, however).

He said his favorite band was Reverend Horton Heat; he goes to see them every time they come to town. I thought I’d never heard of them until I looked them up on YouTube & came across a performance of “Big Red Rocket of Love” that I saw on Late Night With Conan O’Brien when I was a kid. How funny. I liked them enough then to remember the performance, & I found that I liked them even more now! “Maybe we’ll go to a show together sometime,” I told him. “That’d be fun!”

I told him I used to be fairly well known among the local ska scene when I was a teenager. My first love, my high school sweetheart…he seemed to be the only trombone player in the area who liked ska, so he was in probably five different bands at any given time. And he would always pull me up on stage to help him get the crowd dancing. Everybody knew us because they had no choice.

He said he was a punk kid from Detroit who liked to skateboard and flirt with all the cute girls.

I wasn’t surprised.

His toddler was an “oopsie”, but we’ll call her a surprise. He was lonely one night, went to a bar & hooked up with a chick who probably looked halfway decent in the bar lighting after a couple shots. Nine months later, she started doing everything she could to make his life a living hell. Paternity test be damned, it was his.

He said he liked chicken Caesar salads. And baseball.

I didn’t know what a chicken Caesar salad was. And I hate baseball.

---

I was standing outside the store one sunny afternoon, taking a cigarette break. Along came Jack, walking toward me from his car which was parked at a gas pump. He kept wiping his face off.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, half laughing.

“Well, I ran out of gas. So I had to siphon it out of my lawn mower so I could come here. And get gas.” He then explained how siphoning worked because I didn’t know you could do such a thing. “I can’t get the taste of gasoline out of my mouth now! Can you taste it? Just…”

I laughed out loud as I took a couple steps back from him. “I’m smoking a cigarette – I probably shouldn’t get too close to any gasoline fumes.”

“Just… Just see if you can smell it. I don’t wanna walk around smelling like gas all day!”

I leaned in, and…we kissed for a split second, I’m not gonna lie. That sneaky bastard. His lips were soft, and more kissable than I ever realized. I guess I felt like we’d both been patient for long enough, and so I didn’t really think too hard before taking him up on his offer. His very strange offer.

For the record, he did not smell or taste like gas. I almost thought he was full of shit about the whole siphoning thing, but I know he wasn’t. Cuz…that’s Jack.

“Nope, you’re good.”

With the slight smile of a kid who just surprised himself by winning a prize at a carnival & was all proud, he said “Oh good… Thanks!” And then he went in to pay for his gas.

Meanwhile, guilt set in. Hard, like a sharp stab in my chest. I was still in a relationship, after all, and I wasn’t trying to mess with anyone’s heart or mind. Why did I just do that?!?

Because I wanted to. Obviously. I’m not one to let an opportunity pass me by.

“I gotta run. I’m sorry. I’ll text you later?” he said as he rushed back to his car.

“Ok…” And I went back to work.

A couple hours later, I got a text message.

“I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have encouraged that. I know you’re in a relationship. And I’m not trying to complicate things between us, or fuck anything up for you. Honestly. Forgive me?”

“Yeah, I forgive you.” But I’ll never forget.

---

A couple months passed. Autumn was setting in, and the air had a slight chill.

I hadn’t seen him much since the “kiss”, so I sent him a text message – “Miss you, stranger.”

Moments later, I got a reply – “Miss you too 😦 Sorry I’m a shitty friend. I haven’t had the best couple months and really have become quite the hermit. I’m surprised I still have ANYTHING. Are you at work?”

“Unfortunately. Everyone’s an asshole today LOL”

“I’m sorry. Can I stop by & hang out for a bit?”

“Of course, anytime!”

“Ok, I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Nighttime blanketed the sky by the time he made his way to the store.

“Mind if I go take a break?” I asked my coworker. He told me to take my time. So I did.

We went out beside the store where we could chat without being interrupted by regular customers excited to see me or old people looking to complain to a shirt that matches the store.

“How’s it going??” I asked. “What have you been up to?”

“Not much,” he said with a bit of sadness in his voice. “Just ruminating a lot. A lot of shit hit the fan for me. No motivation. Sad? Depressed? I don’t fucking know anymore. Just trying to survive.”

“Why, what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath. I even think he started shaking a little. Looking down at the ground, he started venting like I’d never experienced in my life (and lots of people like venting to gas station attendants for some reason).

His ex wife was trying to turn their kids on him. Doubling down in court with the new baby’s mama, for custody and for child support; she was obsessed with turning everyone on the planet against him (no surprise she buddied up with the ex wife). There was an incident at work with an inmate falsely accusing him of something, so he was arrested in front of one of his kids and now he had to go to criminal court for that too. His kids were acting out – stealing, lying, all the stuff kids do when they’re overwhelmed. And understandably so.

“Jesus christ…” I gasped. My problems seemed petty as fuck in comparison. I couldn’t imagine all this drama – it seemed like everyone was out to get him. No wonder he felt so drained. “I’m sorry you’ve got all that weight on your soul. I wish there was something I could do… I could go to court with you if you want, for moral support? We could go out to lunch after!”

“No, that’s ok.” A slight smile of relief. “It’s early in the morning. I’m sure you’re fast asleep.”

“I can wake up early if I really want to, you know!” I laughed.

What else could I do besides be there to listen to him when it gets to be too much? Nothing, unfortunately.

With hesitation, he went on.

“I had a cold a few days ago, and I took a little too much cough medicine, and…I wondered how much I would have to take to end all this. You know?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “No amount of cold medicine is likely to end anything. You’ll just trip balls if you’re lucky. Not that I know or anything.” (My trombone wielding ex was a self proclaimed addict, & he was pretty fond of “Robo Trippin’” on cold meds right before we met – I knew quite a bit about the effects of various street & OTC drugs, though mostly not from personal experience.)

“I’m sorry to drop all this on you… really. I have no one else.”

I just wanted to wrap my arms around him & let him hide for a little while. I also didn’t want to fuck with his heart, especially when he seemed to be feeling so vulnerable. “You’ll get through this. It’s the yin & yang of life, right? Ebb & flow? This is a pretty strong ebb, but it’s not quite a tsunami. Close, yeah, but not quite. It’ll settle in time. And I’m here, no matter what, for whatever that’s worth. I wish I could fix things for you though, I really really do.”

“Thanks. You’re a good friend. I’m sorry I’m really not myself right now.”

“We all have versions of ourselves. I’m here for it all, ok?” I said.

I could see the line growing in the store, which meant my break time had to come to an end.

“I really don’t wanna go back in there right now, but I kinda have to. I’m sorry. Can I give you a hug?”

“Of course. Anytime.”

We wrapped our arms around each other. Tight. I didn’t think he’d ever let go. I kind of hoped he wouldn’t. Once I settled into it, everything melted away. I couldn’t hear any customers; I didn’t care if the line went out the door & down the block to the next gas station. It was like time stopped for a few moments, fully engulfed in his…everything – body, mind, heart, & soul. I’d loved and been loved a lot in my life, but I’d never experienced anything quite like that. I felt safe, warm, genuinely loved. More than ever before.

I could feel his breathing start to slow, and his heartbeat. I could feel his tension melting away. I think he felt the same as I did.

“I don’t want to let go, but I probably should,” I muttered.

“Just one more second,” he replied. “Y’know, they say that if a hug lasts long enough, the oxytocin will leave you bonded for life.”

“Sounds like witchcraft to me,” I laughed. I would know- I’d studied witchcraft most of my life.

“It’s psychology,” he said.

“Same thing!” I’d studied both pretty extensively.

He squeezed me tight before slowly letting go, and quietly he said, “I love you, Sally. Thanks for being a good friend. Sorry I’m such a shitty one.”

“I love you too. Just, please, try to take care of yourself. You matter too much to let anything dim those sparklers in your eyes.” I gave him a hopeful grin as I stepped back toward the store.

“Go on, before you get fired. I’ll text you later.”

As I cashed out the 436 customers that magically appeared over the past few minutes, my mind was trying to process everything that had just happened – it was a lot to take in. “Holy shit, did he just tell me he’d thought about killing himself? Or was he just saying he wanted to get fucked up enough to escape the shit on his mind?”, hit me pretty hard all of sudden. Either way, I realized I wasn’t just the cute gas station attendant anymore – I was someone he trusted with a depth of emotions that most people aren’t invited to see.

But what could I do, really?!? I can be here; I can always be here as long as he’ll let me. That’s about it.

---

Then some shit hit the fan for me.

I stopped by to visit my father as I did every Sunday, and he was sitting in the kitchen with a walker.

I said hi, and kept looking down at the walker, thinking he’d indulge me on why he dragged it out.

Stubborn old Marine he was, he did not clue me in until I asked.

“Oh, I think I had a stroke.”

“WHAT?!? Why aren’t you in a hospital?!?”

He chuckled and said, “yeah, I probably should, huh? Let me finish this beer, & then I’ll call for an ambulance.”

“Oh what the fuck…” I called the ambulance. While he finished his beer.

Long story short, he’d had a relatively mild stroke, and tests showed a small, cancerous tumor in his left lung. The stroke left him needing physical therapy for a couple months; the only long lasting effects were numbness in some of his left fingers and enough trouble walking to need a walker. Once that was situated well enough, he was miraculously approved for surgery to remove the tumor, and it went without a hitch!

His stroke ended up being a blessing in disguise for him because it led him to better health & self care than he’d bothered with since before my mom died. Because it led to me taking over his health care, home care, and, well, everything care. Because he just wouldn’t anymore.

It was the beginning of the biggest sacrifice of my life.

Yet I still felt my problems were minor in comparison to Jack’s.

---

It was a bright sunny day at the store. He stopped in, and I went out for a break with him.

“I love you,” he said sweetly.

“I love you too,” I smiled.

“No, like, I really love you. I think I’m in love with you.” He looked shyly at the ground.

“Oh!” I could feel my cheeks getting red and the vein in my forehead starting to throb. “Uh, I don’t think you’re in love with me…”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” He seemed a bit perturbed.

“You’ve never lived with me,” I laughed. “There’s a big difference between loving someone and being in love with them. And, in my opinion, you can’t know until you’ve lived with someone. Whether or not you’d end up resenting them and all that crap. Y’know?”

“Hm.” He seemed even more perturbed. “Well, I still think I’m in love with you, but whatever.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be mean or anything,” I said quickly. “I love you a lot, and I know you feel the same. I just don’t think you’d be able to stand me if we were actually together, y’know? I don’t know.”

“Ok.”

And that was that.

---

“How’s you?” I texted him a few days later.

“Hanging in there. You?”

“Just had one of my molars pulled. I don’t know why my teeth are so fucked up,” I shrugged to myself.

“Maybe you just have soft enamel,” he said. “I do. Unfortunately.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing, though I can see how that could be possible,” I replied. “No, they’re not fucked up like that. I don’t know. What have you been up to?”

“Well, I started trying to eat better. Lots of salads. And spinach. And I started running again!”

“Running from what?” I laughed. I sent him that meme that says “if you ever see me running, please kill whatever is chasing me “.

“Ha ha. (Not amused.) I started doing tai chi, too. I know you do yoga- have you ever tried tai chi?”

“No, not yet. I’ll have to look into that!” (It’s too slow for me. I’m too used to the more grandiose movements of hatha. Though it does have its appropriate situations.)

“Oh, I got a girlfriend!”

“Oh cool! Where’d you meet her?!?” I was genuinely excited for him! He needed a positive distraction from the chaos. Besides me.

“We dated a while ago. I saw her at the grocery store with her kiddo and decided to see how she was doing. One thing led to another, and we’re back together! You’ll like her, she’s really cool. Her name’s Desiree.”

“Awesome, I can’t wait to meet her!!”

---

Another couple weeks passed. I didn’t hear from him much. I assumed he was busy with his new girlfriend, which is totally understandable.

A girl came into the store, smiling at me. She seemed…cute. Friendly. A little odd.

She stopped after looking at me for a moment.

“Are you Sally?!” She seemed a little hesitant.

“Yup! You must be Desiree? Nice to meet you!”

“Yup! Nice to meet you too! Jack’s sick, and I thought I’d just come pick up some comfort stuff for him, y’know?”

“Aww!” I smiled. “I’m glad he has someone so sweet in his life, he really deserves it.” I was trying to be nice, but I just had a weird feeling about her. Not because of her, or him; I just worried it wouldn’t last as long as it should, for whatever reason. I tend to have pretty good intuition.

So, while I was trying to be nice because I genuinely thought she seemed like a sweet girl, I was also trying to give the vibe that I’ll kick her ass if she doesn’t treat him right.

She bought him some snacks and drinks.

“Tell him I hope he feels better!” I mentioned as she left.

---

Weeks passed. And then a couple months.

I didn’t hear from him, or see him for that matter, hardly at all.

We’d text briefly, occasionally. Tell each other we missed each other. He’d stop in for a couple minutes to get gas. But that’s about it.

After a very abrupt visit to the store, I finally texted him, “I miss you. I don’t feel like we’re friends anymore…cuz I never hear from you anymore.”

“Oh. Ok.”

And then I didn’t hear from him at all…

---

He’d once posted about “being who we really are, not what we’ve been made into”. But now, with the silence between us, I wasn’t sure we even knew who we were in the first place.

“Life is about the choices we make…good, bad or indifferent.” Seems he chose to leave me behind.

I guess he didn’t love me as much as he said he did.

---

---

If this chapter resonated with you — especially if you’ve loved someone at the wrong time — you’re not alone.

Have you ever loved someone you couldn’t keep?

You don’t have to answer out loud — but you’re welcome to.

Rock on! 🤘💚