Ryan Echem had a phobia of photo albums ever since his parents divorced when he was 16 years old. They only contained lies, false prophecies of happily ever after with people who said they’d love you always just because that’s what they were supposed to say. The smiles were literally fake, the mere product of someone shouting “Cheese!” and assuming you’d willingly comply. Whose bright idea was it to keep a record of happiness that would inevitably fade? Probably the president of Kodak or some other business tycoon whose sole moral compass was capitalism.
He didn’t go to Homecoming, he didn’t go to Prom, and anytime he passed a couple taking wedding photos, he nearly had an anxiety attack. Love might be real, but romance was definitely a scam; that much he was sure of. Rings were shaped like a circle, but not for the reasons people assumed; you always ended up where you started, alone. Okay, maybe this was too much cynicism. But he’d certainly earned it; he couldn’t even listen to a Christmas song without suddenly hearing angry voices dueling in the background.
Nevertheless, he was almost equally scared of staying single forever, of waking up every day to a cluttered bedroom and snot-stained pillow he had no motivation to clean for anyone. He probably wouldn’t get married, but some form of commitment would be nice; in his experience, open relationships just increased the number of closed doors. And he’d had enough of slamming his face against a wooden rectangle that briefly looked like fresh air; life was too short to leap from mirage to mirage.
“Meet anyone special lately?” his sweet but tone-deaf Aunt Wendy would ask almost every time he talked to her.
“No one worth mentioning,” he usually replied with as much indifference as he could muster.
“Well, they’re out there somewhere.”
“I hope not.”
Aunt Wendy would then sigh and try to have empathy for her nephew, who was far more sentimental than her and therefore anti-sentimental as a coping mechanism. It was her own brother who had set the divorce in motion because of several infidelities, but she had never thought much of it; adultery was just a fact of life. She finally settled on: “You don’t have to become your father, you know.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then why are you so afraid of falling in love?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. Aunt Wendy would obviously never understand, so why did he bother trying to explain every time? “Because it’s really unimportant. And I don’t have time for unimportant things in my life right now.”
“That’s a bit of a cop-out, don’t you think?”
“No. It’s just a difference of opinion. I don’t think it’s healthy for a person to waste the best years of their life searching for their better half, who will probably turn out to be their worse half. I want love just as much as everybody else, but I don’t need another person to get it.”
“Then who are you going to get it from?”
“Myself.” Even Ryan wasn’t sure if he believed this answer – self-love seemed to have the same staying power as a one-night stand without the added thrill of third party validation – but for now, he just wanted his persistent aunt to shut up. “I know myself better than anyone else ever could. So why would I expect another person to give me something I don’t already have?”
“Well… Good luck with that.”
Ryan had succeeded in annoying Aunt Wendy enough to leave him alone, but he spent the rest of the day second-guessing what he said. The universe usually seemed to work in opposition to people’s plans; was he now doomed to fall in love then get divorced then spend his twilight years looking at smiling pictures that now only made him frown?
Oh, he didn’t need to be thinking about this now; he had a job to do. It wasn’t a particularly important job – he was a tour guide for a local movie studio doomed to be taken over by Netflix in the near future – but it still kept him busy, and he needed more than anything to avoid idleness. It was idleness that led him to open old photo albums and lament the lies of love. It was also idleness that compelled him to leave his lonely apartment and accidentally see beautiful women at the grocery store who kinda sorta made him want to fall in love. Must. Be. Busy.
But it was impossible for a human person to be busy 24/7. Or if it was possible, eventually that busyness would involve other people. Case in point: grocery shopping. There was an Albertsons, a dangerous one one block from Ryan’s apartment, and for whatever reason, it doubled as a sea full of Sirens.
Whoa. She is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen! A poised and joyfully somber-faced brunette had just accidentally made eye contact with him in the fruits and vegetables section. Or had it been an accident? Forget about her, Ryan! You don’t want to fall in love anyway. Of course, two minutes later he passed her again in the frozen pizza aisle. She didn’t seem to be actually shopping for anything, just aimlessly strolling to pass the idle hours. Damn, maybe this is fate, she seems as restless as I am! No no, it’s not like I can actually say anything to her without sounding creepy. Yet she passed him another time while he was standing in line for checkout, and just when he thought he had finally been delivered from her Siren’s song, he approached the street that led to his apartment and saw her waiting for the orange crosswalk sign to turn white. Terrified of her thinking he was following her, he crossed the street faster than he’d ever crossed it before and soon arrived at the sanctuary of his idle apartment, cursing the myth of fate and the multitude of red herrings throughout his life that had convinced him love wasn’t also a myth.
***
“Hi, Mom.” These words always filled Ryan with anxiety, but he knew he had to say them at least twice a week. Preferably over text, although he acknowledged she deserved a phone call every now and then.
“Hi, Ryan. How was work today?”
“It was okay. None of the tour guests seemed like they actually liked movies or TV shows, so that was fun.”
“Then why would they pay all that money?”
“Hell if I know. Maybe their entire bucket list consists of TripAdvisor’s Top 10 Things to Do in LA. Anyways, how are you?”
Ryan’s mom sighed on the other line. “I’m okay. I had to talk to your dad earlier.”
“What for?”
“Alimony stuff.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s just what we have to do.”
Ryan paused for a moment, searching for the most empathetic thing to say. “Was he mean to you?”
There was an equal-length silence on the other line. Ryan and his mother had always been in-tune with each other’s pregnant pauses. “Not any more than he normally is.”
“That still isn’t right! Can’t you have your lawyer talk to him?”
“She doesn’t work for me anymore.”
“What?’
“I only hired her to carry out the initial settlement. I knew I couldn’t afford her after that.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that. Do you need some money?”
“Ryan, sweetie, I know you’re broke.”
“Well, I could cut down on all the junk food I buy to help me cope with work.”
“No no, then you might develop a more harmful and expensive addiction. Eat all the cookies you want, Ryan. I’ll be alright.”
“Are you sure?”
There was another pause. “Of course not. But I’ve been in tight spots before. I’ve always pulled through.”
“Well, I’m here for you anytime. S… Sorry I can’t be there with you.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Ryan. I’d be even sadder if you didn’t leave home.”
Ryan wasn’t quite sure how to take this. “Uh… Okay.”
“Not that I don’t love your company. Of course I do. But you’re an adult now. You’re supposed to fly the nest.”
“Yeah. But in some Asian countries, aren’t the kids eventually supposed to come back home and take care of their parents?”
“Maybe. But not until after they’ve had their adventure. And you’re just beginning yours.”
“Well, I’m not sure how much of an adventure it is. But I guess it’s where I’m supposed to be right now.”
“It is. That much I’m sure of.”
Their tender conversation soon ended, but neither of them really felt better about where they were in life. At least his mother hadn’t asked him if he had met any girls lately. Or boys; despite being raised evangelical Christian, she had bigger concerns other than whether or not her son might be gay. She wanted him to find love of course, but she also hoped he’d be spared the lies and heartbreak that she was still enduring. Was it possible to have one without the other? She was just as unsure as her son was.
Ryan went to dinner the next night with his best friend Marissa, who had recently married her high school sweetheart, Rob, but never felt the need to brag about it. “How’s your mom doing?”
“The same. But she’s getting through.”
“And your dad?”
“I haven’t talked to him in a while. Nor do I want to.”
“Has he tried calling you?”
“Practically every day. Apparently he can’t take a hint.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s just trying to make amends.”
“I don’t need his amends. My mom does. But if he doesn’t care about her, I don’t need him to care about me. Anyhow, I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Fair.”
“How’ve you been doing?”
“Oh, same old same old. Trying to quit the thrift store.”
“I thought you liked it there.’
“I do. But I can’t work there forever. And two years is already starting to feel like an eternity.”
“Where else would you want to work?”
“I’m not sure yet. I think I’m through with my customer service days. I kinda want to start my own business, but I’m nowhere near ready for that yet.”
“What would you sell?”
“Maybe clothes.”
“Clothes that you make?”
“Yeah. And maybe that I find too. I do like thrifting.”
“Why don’t you take over the thrift store?”
“Nah. The owner’s a little power-hungry. Anyhow, that’s a long way out. I’ll probably have to do something else in between. Do you still like being a tour guide?”
“Nah, it’s getting old. I’ve started applying to other jobs, but I haven’t heard anything yet.”
“What sort of jobs?”
Ryan blushed with slight inferiority. “Marriage counseling.”
“Marriage counseling? You don’t have a degree in that, do you?”
“No. But I have a lot of personal experience…”
Marissa shook her head. “I thought you wanted to stay away from all things marriage-related.”
“I did. But I’m starting to think it might be my destiny. And if I were to fall in love with anybody, it would probably be a divorce lawyer.”
“STAWP.”
“I mean, it seems the surest way to make a relationship last. They know all the ins and outs.”
“Not all relationships fall apart.”
“Oh, you’re such an optimist.”
“I don’t know how to be anything else. Hopefully it will rub off on you.”
“I doubt it. But you can try…”
***
Marissa’s optimism did start to rub off on Ryan, much to his chagrin. He even fantasized about bumping into the mysterious grocery store woman again. But it soon faded; his dad called him once more, and he decided to answer this time.
“Hey.”
“I finally caught you! Busy man, eh?”
“Not really.”
“Then how come you haven’t answered my calls?”
Ryan quickly decided whether or not he wanted to give an honest answer. He decided that telling the truth was the best way to respect his dad, even if he didn’t seem to deserve respect. “Because I haven’t wanted to talk to you.”
There was a pause on the other line. “I get that. I’m sorry for anything I’ve said that’s hurt you.”
“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to mom.”
There was another pause. Ryan’s dad also had to make the choice regarding honesty, but it was more about honesty with himself. “Your mom isn’t as perfect as you think she is.”
“I never said she was perfect. But you’ve hurt her a hell of a lot. And as someone who once looked up to you, I hoped you might feel some remorse for that.”
“I do feel remorse. But it’s complicated. Whenever I’ve tried to apologize to her, she hasn’t accepted it.”
“Maybe you weren’t sincere enough.”
“Or maybe she just has to accept that this isn’t all my fault.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. He expected his dad to be like this, but it was still disappointing. “Talk to you later, Dad.”
“Wait a minute, Ryan. Please at least try to hear me out.”
“Only if you hear me out.”
“Okay. What other grievances do you have?”
“Where do I begin? You screwed a woman across the country and got away with it.”
“What’s so wrong with her being across the country?”
“You’re missing my point. You thought you could have her and mom at the same time. You assumed Mom was stupid enough not to notice that you’d forgotten to put your wedding ring back on when you returned from your last trip.”
“I didn’t think she was stupid. I was stupid. I’ve never forgotten to put it back on before.”
“Ugh, Dad, do you realize how selfish you sound?’
“I…”
“No, you don’t. Why am I even trying? Goodbye.” Ryan hung up on his dad and began to cry. He used to believe that no cause was hopeless; now he accepted that some people were merely past the point of redemption.
He really wanted to be born again. Not in the Christian sense, but rather in a literal one. His life was turning out to be average at best and miserable at worst, and he longed for a second chance. Of course, he wouldn’t dare tell this to any of his friends who believed in karma, as he would automatically feel guilty; what did he do to deserve this? Maybe he’d been a homewrecking asshole in another life. Like father, like son. Or like son, like father.
Of course, he knew being reborn was impossible, so he resolved to keep on living his one and only life with as much hope as he could muster. But hope was dwindling fast, and every time he saw a rope or a knife, he pondered their life-ending possibilities. No one asked for this! Why are we expected to stick around until we are old and senile?
Deciding he might as well add insult to injury, Ryan opened an old family album and began masochistically browsing its outdated contents. There was a picture of him and his dad swimming while his mom watched from afar. Another picture of all three of them playing Monopoly while Aunt Wendy drank too much wine in the background. And then the creme-de-la-creme of heartbreak: a group hug.
It was all a lie. His dad didn’t love his mom, and after their last phone conversation, his dad didn’t seem to even love him. Why did he exist? Because his parents got drunk and horny one night and decided that creating a child might be a fun idea? He definitely wished they’d made a different choice; he wouldn’t know the difference whether or not he existed.
Deciding he couldn’t take the cruel dishonesty of the family photo album any longer, he stood up and went to Albertsons to buy the first diabetes-inducing thing that caught his eye. It would probably be a pack of Oreos, but like his mother said, there were worse addictions out there. As soon as he walked in, he saw the mysterious Siren woman who kept crossing his path the week before. She seemed to also recognize him, and tossed him a slightly humorous smile. Fancy seeing you here. Then she turned into the cereal aisle, and he never saw her again. But her smile was enough; for the first time in years, he believed that someone somewhere might care about him. And whoever that someone was, they would mean everything they said. False promises abounded in this world, but they weren’t the only kind of promises out there. Love could still be true; it just took a hell of a lot of patience and discipline to make it so.
The End
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About
Sam Hendrian is a Los Angeles-based filmmaker, poet, and playwright striving to foster empathy through art. From writing personalized poems for passersby outside of LA’s oldest independent bookstore every Sunday, to making Chaplin-esque silent films about loneliness and human connection once a month, Sam lives to make other people feel seen and validated. More work can be found on YouTube at @samhendrian8658.
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