Because You're You

“Corbin.”

The man cracked his eyes open. A strip of light from the doorway broke through the shadowy mustiness of his bedroom that he’d been cooped up in for a week, and a figure stood silhouetted against it.

“Mm?” was the only sound he could muster.

There was a soft sigh— Jason’s. He shifted his weight to lean against the door frame, and Corbin could see a bundle of fabric in his arms. “Come out of there for a little while.”

“Mm.”

He wanted to listen to his friend; he really did. But there was a stillness weighing deep in his bones, freezing his muscles in place. The comfort of this bed, where he was safe, felt impossible to leave.

“Corbin,” Jason said again.

When he still didn’t move, gentle footsteps crossed the room. It wasn’t an even pattern; he had to step over discarded clothes and hobbies that Corbin used to spend his free time pouring over. He reached the bed safely, though, and perched on the edge. He reached to run a hand through his hair, but Corbin pulled himself away before he could make contact. He didn’t want to admit how long it had been since he’d last had a shower, and he especially didn’t want Jason to feel like he needed to wash his hands of him.

Jason didn’t complain. He just put his hand back in his lap. “I know it’s hard,” he said, “But you’ll feel better if you get up for a little bit.”

“Why?” Corbin whined. He wasn’t usually so childish, but he couldn’t help it.

“Because I want to wash your hair.”

He opened his eyes, brow furrowing. For the first time in ages, something other than numbness stirred in his chest: confusion, shock. “…Huh?”

A soft, sad smile formed on his face. He reached to touch Corbin’s hair again, and this time, he let him. “You don’t even have to undress or do any work except walk to the bathroom. I’ll take care of everything, okay? And I want you to eat something when we’re done.”

Corbin just stared at him. “Why?” he asked again.

“Because I love you,” Jason said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Corbin didn’t think he could believe him, not with the abyss taking over his heart and mind right now. It was like magic: how wonderful life would be if you could just get your hands on some, but it was only a fantasy. Pretending that genuine love was real was a childish hope that you only cling to as an escape from the dread of reality.

The idea of having cleaner hair, though… That was enough to get him to sit up.

Jason was always true to his word. He led Corbin to the bathroom with a gentle hand on the small of his back, to where he’d put a stool next to the bathtub for him to sit. Instead of the scalding water Corbin used this time of year to distract himself, the water coming out of the nozzle now was warm and comforting, like putting your feet under the blanket where a cat had just been laying. Jason used his own shampoo and conditioner to wash away the grease and despondency, and then went in for a second round.

All the while, Corbin stared at the bottom of the tub and tried to understand.

After it was deemed clean enough, Jason used the towel he’d been holding to dry his hair until it was just damp. He then made him sit on the closed toilet lid to blow dry and comb it for him. It ended up soft and fluffy and warm and clean.

When Jason lead him out of the bathroom and to the kitchen, Corbin caught a glance at the outside world for the first time in days. The trees were bare, and the sky was a dark gray, warning of an oncoming storm. The snow on the ground looked thick and puffy. It was the perfect kind for snowmen and snowballs.

If this had been more than a decade ago, Corbin would have seen it as a world of play and wonder. Now, it was just an ugly reminder of what the season did to his spirit.

Jason pushed him into a chair at the dining room table, one that was facing away from the window. It wasn’t long before a steaming mug of peppermint tea was sitting in front of him.

“Drink,” he said. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

“You don’t have to,” Corbin protested.

He just smiled. “I know. I want to.”

The tea was sweetened with vanilla syrup, just the way he liked it.

As the smell of garlic and cooking oil wafted through the kitchen, Corbin learned the intricacies of the wood grain on the table. There was a knot by the edge that almost resembled an eye. If he tilted his head just right, it could seem like it had a nose, too.

Soon enough, a bowl of rice and chicken appeared in front of him. Jason sat in the seat next to him, and when Corbin didn’t immediately dig in, he nudged it towards him. “You don’t have to eat it all,” he said, “but some of it. Please.”

Corbin stared at the food like it had just told him the secrets of the universe. He turned the look to Jason after a moment.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

“Because I love you.”

“But… why?” Corbin couldn’t bear to look at him anymore; the weight of it all was too much. “I’m useless. I don’t have a job, I don’t help around the house; I just sleep and rot. How can you love me when I’m just a burden to you?”

Jason sighed softly, and Corbin braced himself for the moment his friend finally snapped and confirmed all of the things he hated about himself. But it didn’t come, just like it never had before. He felt his hand on his back, and it rubbed between his shoulders.

“I love you because you’re not any of that.” He shifted to face him. “You’re not useless, and you’re not a burden. You’re just going through a rough time. Winters are so hard for you, but come spring, you’re always back to my smiley, resilient buddy. I know it feels endless right now, but I also know you’ll overcome it, just like you do every year.”

Corbin could only stare at the food and will the lump in his throat to go away. “What if I don’t this time?”

“Then I’ll still love you. You don’t have to do anything to earn that.”

As his vision blurred, Jason picked up the spoon and gently pressed it into his hands. He guided him to take a bite.

“I don’t mind taking care of you when you need it,” Jason murmured. “You deserve that kind of grace, no matter what anyone else has told you. And no matter who it was that told you that.”

The rice was soft and fluffy, seasoned with thyme and a hint of lemon.

“Even if you feel like this for months and months, you don’t have to endure it alone. I’m always going to be here.” He smiled. “You could ask for help a thousand times over, and I’d still come running.”

There was a warmth to the chicken that began to melt the misery keeping his muscles taut.

“I don’t care if you’re never able to lift a finger again. I don’t love you because of what you can do for me. I love you because you’re you, and that’s all you ever need to be.”

Corbin sniffled and whisked his hand up to wipe his cheeks. New tears replaced the old. Jason was quick to grab a tissue and hand it to him.

“Thanks,” Corbin whispered. For the tissue, for the food… For everything. He hoped Jason would understand the things that were too heavy for his tongue to lift.

Corbin didn’t go straight back to his bed after he finished eating. He took the time to take a real, proper shower and change into some fresh clothes. When he stepped into his room, he found it in a much better state: someone had picked the floor clean and changed his sheets.

Down the hall, he could hear the water running in the kitchen. It triggered something deep inside him, and he found himself tracing his steps back before he realized it.

“Jason?”

He looked up from the pot he was washing. Corbin fought not to turn and hide.

“Can we… watch a movie? Together?” he asked instead.

He’d never seen Jason smile so wide. He dropped everything right back into the soapy water, and then he rushed forward to crush Corbin in a tight, gentle hug.

“Always,” he murmured. “Always.”