What We Left Behind

“Don’t do what?” The fountain has a ten-foot cherub statue in the middle, holding a stone torch. That’s where the water’s supposed to spout from. I stride across the basin and climb up onto the base of the statue.

Toni’s stepped over the side and is sitting on the fountain’s edge, watching me. I try not to meet Toni’s eyes.

“Someone’s going to see.” Toni looks from side to side into the darkened neighbors’ houses, at the expensive cars lined up in each driveway, the neat piles of leaves raked up by gardeners and standing along the curbs so the county can come vacuum them up.

“I don’t give a f—”

“Shh!” Toni stands up. I guess I must be shouting pretty loud. “Be quiet! Seriously!”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” I lower my voice and wrap my hands around the statue. “You’ve said enough already.”

“Believe me, this isn’t what I want,” Toni says.

“Oh, yeah?” The stone is freezing. I wrap my sleeves around my hands and try to get a better grip around the cherub’s shoulders. “Here’s a thought, then. Don’t do it.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me.”

I can’t see it, but I hear Toni’s shrug. We’ve been together for two years. By now I can hear Toni’s every gesture no matter how far away I am.

I knew this was coming. I just didn’t want to know.

“I can’t be in a relationship right now,” Toni says. “I need to figure myself out first. I can’t expect you to wait around in the meantime.”

“You’re not expecting me to do anything.” I finally get a good grip and swing around to look back at Toni, the statue safely between us. “It’s my decision what I want to do with my time. I want to be there while you figure yourself out.”

“I’m a terrible partner right now. All I ever think about is myself.”

“I don’t care! Anyway, you’re not a terrible partner. This is all my fault for not going up to Boston. I’m sorry, okay?”

I expect Toni to argue with me. Instead Toni just stands there.

I swallow. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

“No.” Toni doesn’t sound very convincing. Or convinced.

“It was a stupid thing to do anyway.” I swallow again. “I don’t know why I even wanted to.”

“So, why did you?”

I don’t know how to answer that.

“I love you,” I say instead.

I come back around from the other side of the statue. That’s the last time I’m saying it. My last try.

“I love you, too,” Toni says.

Something breaks inside me.

“Then what the hell is the problem?” I’m yelling again, but there’s still no movement in the dim, lonely street. This is why Toni made us come outside. Toni knew I’d yell. That thought makes me angrier. “It’s a damn good thing I never filled out that transfer application for BU for next semester, since apparently you don’t want me up there anyway. Did you even remember that? The application was due November 1. I never sent it in. You don’t even know, because you never even asked me anything about it!”

“Wait, what?” Toni just stares at me.

I can’t handle this. Toni doesn’t even think about me anymore. I’m so far down on Toni’s list of priorities it’s embarrassing.

It isn’t just because of what I did, either. I don’t think it’s even mainly because of that anymore.

It’s the trans stuff. That’s become Toni’s whole life. I don’t fit anymore.

“This is about your new thing, isn’t it?” I say. “God, don’t you get it? I don’t care what gender you are or you aren’t! It couldn’t possibly matter less to me!”

Toni doesn’t answer right away, so what I just said hangs out in the air, the words uncoiling, like a spider slowly dropping from its web.

“Well, it matters to me,” Toni finally says. “A lot.”

I shake my head. I should take back what I said—“your new thing,” God, how insensitive can I possibly be—but I can’t. All of this is coming from somewhere outside me. The real Gretchen is hovering over us, watching this play out, powerless to change it.

Toni and I never fight. Never.

We don’t get mad at each other. We smile and pretend like nothing’s wrong.

We’ve been doing it for years. We’re really, really good at it.

If we hadn’t started fighting, we’d be fine. If I hadn’t gone to NYU, we’d be fine. If Toni would just stop thinking about trans stuff for five seconds, we would be totally fine.

“I’m sorry, okay?” I can’t even tell if I’m yelling anymore. “I’m sorry I went to New York. I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

“It’s just—” Toni’s voice is strained. Like it’s hard to form words. “I just don’t get why you lied to me. What was the point of hiding it?”

“I don’t know!” I climb up higher on the statue. “I don’t know anything, okay? Is that why you want to get rid of me? Because I’m so dumb compared to everyone else you know? Am I holding you back?”

Toni doesn’t answer.

Robin Talley's books