A Pretty Sizable Chunk of the Truth
September 3, 2007
I don’t know if Isaac is just completely oblivious to what’s going on between Taylor and me, or what. He tends to be the oblivious type, probably because that’s easier on his sanity than accepting what’s really going on. Despite the fact that Taylor and I have barely spoken to each other in a week, Isaac is still pushing us hard to finish this album. We’re in the studio every day, slaving away at songs that seem finished to me, but he keeps finding things to work on and flaws to pick at.
All that work means that every night I fall into bed completely exhausted from all long day spent in the studio, singing, drumming, and arguing. We’ve never worked this hard before, but I know we need to catch up if we’re going to release this album next month like we’ve had planned.
And every night, I’m plagued by horrible dreams. I dream of the car wreck and of an alternate reality in which Taylor didn’t survive but I did. I wake each morning with that nagging feeling of something missing only growing stronger and stronger.
On this particular morning, the feeling of deja vu is stronger than ever. I’m alone in bed, the sunlight streaming in through the window and blinding me. I can hear a television on downstairs and coffee brewing in the pot, so I know I’m not alone. That’s the only thing that stills my pounding heart.
I’ve been here before. Only, last time I was really, truly alone, and I awoke on the wrong morning altogether. Instinctively, I reach for my cell phone to check the date. September 3. The day it should be.
Suddenly, all the strange thoughts in my mind make sense. I’ve woken up twice to mornings like this. I’ve woken up twice on August 10, 2007, each time to a completely different morning. I’m positive now that it wasn’t a dream. Somewhere out in space, or out in time, I lived, briefly, a different life. A life completely without Taylor. A life where everything I’d built for myself came tumbling down.
But I’m not in that life now. I’m in the right one, and somehow, without understanding how I know it, I know that I’m never leaving this life again.
I remember the feeling that I was supposed to learn a lesson from that other life. But how can I learn anything if Taylor is still pulling away from me? Was the lesson truly that our relationship was wrong? No. I can’t believe that. I need him in my life, completely.
If you ask me, the lesson was to appreciate what I’ve got. Not to take it for granted. I’ve barely given Kate the attention she deserves, even though I got into this marriage with the hopes of being normal for once. And in doing so, I’ve pulled away from Taylor for so long that he finally has given me what he thought I wanted. Only I know now that I didn’t want that at all. I want them both in my life, and I’m determined to fight to keep them both.
I feel rejuvenated and inspired. I feel like all the haze and confusion from the coma has finally dissipated and I can really see what lies in front of me. Despite the early hour, this new-found feeling of peace makes it easy to pull myself out of bed and get dressed.
“Well, you’re up and at ’em early,” Kate remarks as I make my way into the kitchen. “Don’t tell me the coma turned you into a morning person.”
“Maybe it did,” I reply, kissing her forehead. “You didn’t have to make breakfast, though. I’m feeling so good today, I might have even tried to cook.”
“Okay, you are definitely not the same Zac I used to know. And there is no way I’m letting you cook. Anyway, it’s just toast and eggs. Nothing fancy.”
I take the place she’s offering me and sit down at the table. “Well, I appreciate it no matter what it is. You know I’d starve without someone here to cook for me.”
“I highly doubt that,” she replies with a laugh. “You’d just live on cereal and frozen food.”
“Maybe. But that’s not my point. It’s not just about the food and everything like that. You know there’s so much more that I love about you, right?”
She nods slowly. “I suppose so. Sometimes I wonder.”
“Sometimes I don’t do a very good job of showing how I feel.”
“I just feel like sometimes…” she bites her lip, and I can see that she’s considering her next words very carefully. “Sometimes I’m not sure what’s going on in your mind at all. Why you stay with me when you seem so… distant sometimes.”
“I know I’m like that,” I say, reaching my hand across the table to hold hers. “But it’s just a character flaw. Who knows, maybe it’s gone now. Maybe the coma changed that. But the thing is, you’re like the one constant in my life. You came into it when lots of things were just falling apart, and whether you know it or not, you help hold me together. Even when I suck at showing how much that – how much you mean to me.”
It’s a pretty nice little speech and I’m proud of myself for it. Maybe it’s not the whole truth, but it’s a pretty sizable chunk of it. I feel accomplished already, and it’s not even 10am. In the long term, I don’t know how much telling Kate all that will really change things, but it makes me feel better. I can only hope the rest of the day will go as smoothly as this has.
I feel on top of the world as I finish breakfast and drive myself to the office, but that feeling passes when I walk in the door. It’s not a big office, and I swear I can feel the tension as soon as I walk inside. Not only that, but I can hear angry voices drifting down the hallway, so I know Isaac and Taylor are already there and, evidently, arguing. So much for my day being off to a great start.
“I’m not talking to him about finishing Rosa.”
“You’re not talking to him about anything right now, are you? I’m not stupid. I can tell you guys are fighting again.”
“Just drop it. Just fucking drop it.”
It takes every bit of strength and courage I have to open the conference room doors. The only thought that pushes me to do it is the realization that if I stand there much longer, just listening in, one of them is bound to storm out and discover me with my ear pressed up against it. Not wanting to be embarrassed like that, I decide to just walk on in and pretend I haven’t heard a thing.
“So, what are we working on today?” I ask, trying to sound as happy as I felt just a short while ago.
Isaac raises an eyebrow. “From the looks of things, nothing.”
“Well, that’s good. Right? A day off?” I’m still trying to sound chipper, but I can see by the two raised eyebrows that neither of them are buying it.
Isaac rolls his eyes. “If only that were the case. We’re still nowhere near finished, and I seem to be the only one who wants to put in any effort.”
Taylor stabs his pen into the notebook in front of him and I can’t help thinking that he’s imagining the notebook is actually Isaac – or me. “That’s not true and you know it. I just don’t want to work on any of the songs you’re suggesting. When your suggestions stop sucking, maybe I’ll be interested in finishing the album.”
When these arguments happen, and they’re a pretty regular occurrence, I tend to be the peacemaker. However, today I feel like playing devil’s advocate. I want to push Taylor’s buttons. I want to see what I can do. Now that I can remember fully what happened in that alternate reality, I know things couldn’t get any worse here. Whatever I do to piss him off, it’s still not the worst cast scenario.
“What about the song you were working on the other day… Georgia?”
Taylor’s head whips around so fast that I fear he might give himself whiplash. He stares at me for a moment, squinting, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. He’s considering all the possibly ways he can reply to that, and which replies he can actually say in front of Ike.
“Well? What about that song, Tay?” Leave it to Ike to press the issue when he has no clue what’s really going on.
Taylor grits his teeth. “I told Zac that song wasn’t finished. And it isn’t going to be. Everyone needs to just forget it ever existed.”
I don’t think Taylor honestly has any clue how obvious he’s being. He wants me to believe that song isn’t about me, but I know it is. Even if he were just angry about me stealing the first draft of the lyrics, that’s no excuse to declare the song dead, which is something we rarely do anyway. Even years down the line, we’ve been known to bring songs back out and finish them when others would have abandoned them.
No, it’s not about my little petty theft. It’s about me. I just don’t understand why he’s so angry, and why he’s so intent on us being over. Unfortunately, as much as I want to keep pressing the issue, I can’t really ask that question in front of Isaac. If I want to continue this conversation, I’m going to have to tread lightly.
“I thought that song really had something going for it. Something that wasn’t worth giving up on.” It’s a simple, honest statement that perfectly says how I feel – both about the song and about us. I hope both messages get through to him.
Something flashes in his eyes for a moment, and I think the anger’s going to dissipate, but then it’s back so quickly that I have to wonder if I was just seeing what I wanted to see. “No. That song was a mistake. Just leave it.”
“You shouldn’t give up so easily.”
“I’m not. I never have. But I know when to let things go. When something obviously wants to be let go, you can’t hold onto it.”
Taylor slams his notebook shut and storms out of the room, leaving Isaac to stare at me awkwardly, no doubt awaiting my explanation. But I can’t explain it. I think I’m beginning to see Taylor’s problem – it’s the same one I had five years ago – but there’s no way I can really put that into words that won’t cause Isaac to completely lose it. And truthfully, I don’t understand it at all. I know why I felt abandoned, why I felt like Taylor was letting me go. But how can he feel that way about me? Why now, after everything he’s done, can he act like I’m the one leaving him?
“I understood all of the words in that conversation, but somehow I still have no clue what the hell just happened,” Isaac says.
I stare at the door Taylor has just stormed out of as though I might will him back through it with my mind. When I finally accept that that isn’t going to happen, I glance over at Isaac and offer him a shrug. “I really can’t explain it. I guess he doesn’t like that song.”
“It sounds more like he doesn’t like you.”
“That’s a distinct possibility.”
“Well, I don’t care what you have to do, but the two of you need to fix this. I’m not unsympathetic to the fact that you’re still a bit out of sorts, but Taylor has no excuse for being an asshole right now.”
“Agreed,” I reply. “But it’s really not that simple.”
“It never is with the two of you. I accepted that a long time ago.”
I’m not entirely sure what he means by that, but I can guess, and the look he’s giving me says that my guess isn’t too far off the mark. So I guess Isaac knows. At least it saves me some explanation, I suppose. I remember how reluctantly he accepted the truth that other life, and through the anger on his face, I can see the same thing now. I feel awful for putting him through this. Maybe someday I’ll stop being so selfish and start not only realize how my actions affect everyone else around me, but actually do something about that realization.
“Look, Ike. I don’t know what else to try with him. It feels like I just can’t get through to him anymore. Maybe in time, after I’m totally back to normal, I’ll be able to talk to him without him running out of the room, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
Isaac sighs and slowly begins to nod. “I know. I know this takes time, and I know that we’re probably pushing you to get ‘back to normal’ too fast. I don’t know what his problem is, but I should probably be more worried about making sure you’re okay right now.”
“I’ll be fine. You know me. I’m pretty resilient.”
“I know, but Jesus, Zac. You just came out of a coma, and here we are pushing you to record and sing and all this stuff. Is it too soon?”
“No. It’s not,” I reply, dangerously close to snapping and growling at him. “I need this. I need the music or I’m really not going to feel like myself. It’s one of the few things going right for me right now, so don’t even think about taking it away.”
“Okay. Alright, you’re right. I’m just really at a loss about how to get this band back to normal.”
“Me too,” I reply, completely honestly.
Normalcy was something I once desperately wanted. I wanted, with everything in me, not to constantly long for Taylor, especially when it was so obvious he didn’t want only me. Kate held me together through the worst of that, so I clung to her and made her a permanent part of my life, thinking that would somehow magically solve my problems.
Needless to say, it didn’t.
I’ve realized now, that I don’t want to be normal. I just want to be me. I just want the things that make me feel right, and that isn’t the same as normal. But, I’ve also realized that I was horribly selfish in the past, so I’m willing to let Taylor go for now. In the part of my mind that hated him for leaving me, I can understand his frustration and confusion over what I’ve done.
I just have to give him time. In time, maybe he’ll realize that being with me isn’t the end of the world. I’ve been to the end of the world – or, at least, the end of my world. It wasn’t like this at all.