31- In the middle of the night

Many times in my past, I've had trouble knowing what to say. It has been quite difficult for me to express my feelings and say them out loud. I've always been aware that it's something I need to overcome in order to achieve some of those silly goals I once had, but I think I've never felt the pressure of really having to say what I feel like now.

For example, if Faven's life had depended on my words, I would have talked incessantly and non-stop. That's what I mean. Today, the stability of my relationship with the Hope family depends on my words.

As I said in the past, and I still stand by it, the Hope family is the family I would have liked to have. In all the time I spent with them before Faven's departure, I could feel warmth, affection, peace, and… I stopped feeling lonely.

I grew up in a home where Maya and I had to prepare our own meals when we were just kids. We depended on ourselves without having to contribute financially. Now, as adults, we still depend on ourselves, so nothing has changed for us. Now we just contribute money. It's more of the same.

So, everything leads me now. Angus Hope is a very reserved and serious man to be part of the Hope family, but he still has that warmth that represents him. He's the type of person who shows his affection through actions rather than words. However, as far as I know, he's someone who likes to be encouraged when he needs it the most. That makes me understand that he doesn't mind hearing a word of encouragement from time to time.

I'm not here to give him a word of encouragement, actually. I'm here to be honest with someone who welcomed me as a son. I must seem like a fool who can't speak because I've been rambling in my head all this time. And yet, I appreciate that Angus keeps standing, waiting for me to stop being a coward. So I must let go of my damn tongue once and for all.

"Now I know you were right about what you told me the day I arrived in Bismarck, Mr. Angus," I begin. I see him put on his glasses again. "These months I have done nothing but feel sorry for myself and the misfortune I felt I had. In my mind, I have not stopped repeating to myself that I am a miserable person who doesn't deserve anything good.

I take a deep breath and continue.

"I know… I know it sounds like something about myself, but I'm trying to speak as if I were thinking out loud. Talking about my feelings doesn't usually go well for me," I let out a bitter laugh. "Ah, Mr. Hope. I locked myself in a bubble. I came to think, and sometimes I still do, that time stopped that day. And, before I knew it, six months passed in which I isolated myself from society. Time was running, but I wasn't…"

He makes a gesture for me to continue.

"I didn't go to class much during those days. It hurt a lot. I was also thinking so much that my mind couldn't process what the teachers were saying. I started skipping piano lessons too," I bite my lip and let go to speak again. "I haven't played the piano since Faven died, Mr. Hope. That's why I didn't know what to say at the table."

I see him form a line with his mouth. His face, slightly wrinkled from the passing years, is not much different from how I remember it. However, the bags under his eyes and some new lines of expression reveal how much he suffered and cried for his own loss. The expression may be that of a tough person, but the body has its ways of expressing the feelings you can't say out loud.

"I haven't been the best son, brother, or friend," I go on with what I was saying. "My life became monotonous. I went to the hospital often, I lost consciousness often, sometimes I drank alone with rancid alcohol, I read Faven's letters, I worked, sometimes I went to university, and… that was it. I thought that's how the rest of my life was going to be. I was too busy thinking about myself, and then I met Dakota. Or, well, she found me," unintentionally, I smile half-heartedly.

"What do you two have?" he asks directly. I detect a certain protective character in his words.

"We're… friends? I think," I breathe. I see him raise an eyebrow. "Since we started talking, she convinced me to… do things differently. To break free from that strange routine. We wanted to heal our wound regarding Faven and, before I knew it, we started spending time together," I decide to reveal little information. It's not convenient. "So, I started talking to someone other than my sister. And I hardly talk to her," I click my tongue. "I went to her old orphanage, I started talking to friends we had in common with Faven, and from time to time, we meet at meeting points to… talk. It was up and down until the day she backed me into a corner. Now I had the option of accepting or refusing to come here. And, although I spent part of that "grace period" unconscious, here I am, because… I want to confront my past. I hope to do something for my damn life before I lose it due to irresponsibility.

"I… continue. "I would be lying if I said I have the desire to regain the old Eron. But being here brought back so many memories that I had locked deep in my mind that… I realized I became a cowardly idiot. I thought so much about myself that I put you aside," I admit finally. "I hope, Mr. Angus, that you can forgive me. Whether Faven is here or not, it doesn't mean I stop loving you as family. Actually… I was so afraid of seeing Faven in that box that I couldn't attend the funeral. I'm sorry. I couldn't do it. I also regret not having spoken to you all this time. Please, let things be good between us."

My heart beats very fast as I say all this. I truthfully didn't expect to talk so much, let alone all at once. I feel like all my energy has gone into this narrative and my silly attempt to apologize. I never stopped looking straight ahead. I had my hands in my pockets as I released my verbal diarrhea. I just hope that monologue served some purpose.

"You also didn't come to Liry and Chad's wedding," that's the only thing he says.

"Oh… that explains a lot… things," I bite my inner cheek. "How silly is it to say that I didn't know?"

"It makes you the dumbest and most idiotic," he crosses his arms. "You're right. You were a selfish person who only thought of yourself, Eron. I'm glad you've understood it."

I gulp hard once again.

"We've all gone through our holes. I learned thanks to Dakota's experience that we're not guilty for going through them. And that it's not easy to get out of them. Sometimes we want to be alone and I suppose that's fine for some," he says. His words fill me with a small hope. "But being in a hole doesn't exempt you from those who care about you. I feel like we deserved that apology from you."