Leo

"How did that make you feel?"

I smile at the question I've become too familiar with.

My therapist, Mandy, is an old, wise and sweet woman. She's worked with military soldiers before, so I don't feel as weird telling her stuff. Dark stuff.

"It made me feel... alive." I shake a snow globe she has on her shelf. She knows I find it awkward to just sit down, facing her, while I talk to her. So I like to wander around her cozy office. She has a lot of nick-knacks I can examine and toy with as I give her my answer. "Carefree. I didn't have to think about anything except for the lyrics of the song."

"Alive how?" She focuses on my first answer.

I grab a book and open it, but read nothing. "I don't really know how to explain it. She just started singing, and it made me forget about..." I close the book again.

Even though I've been seeing Mindy for over two months now, a couple times a week, I still have trouble telling her things and being completely honest with her. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm supposed to tell her. She asks me how I'm feeling and I myself don't even know.

She's gotten used to how I behave and talk, so eh. At least I'm coming here. That has to count for something, right?

"I felt light." I tell her. "I didn't think about anything other than...just the now."

"And why was that, do you think?"

"I'm not sure." I answer truthfully and take a seat, my leg bobbing up and down.

"This is the first time you've told me you feel alive," her soft smile is assuring, making me feel calmer and not judged by my non-answers. Therapy still makes me nervous, but I'm getting better and better at expressing my feelings. "Do you think this has to do with the company you were with?"

"Probably." She gives me a look that reminds me of when my mama would scold me when I tell an obvious lie. I relent and say, "Okay, yes. But," I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. "She wasn't trying to throw out all these 'positive vibes', as Nicole likes to call them. It was just a song, and she felt like singing along, so she did. She wasn't trying to make me feel better. 'Happier.' And I like that. People are always walking on eggshells around me. I know they're doing it because they love me and I appreciate that, but I'm not fragile like they think I am."

I take a deep breath after I finish my word vomit. That's probably the most I've said to Mandy.

She smiles softly at me, writes something down on her notepad, then faces me again.

"I don't think your family thinks you're fragile. On the contrary. They know you're strong. Maybe even stronger than them."

I stay silent as she continues.

"But you're the youngest, and they feel protective of you. They want you to be comfortable and at ease when you're at home."

My family is the best. And I feel all the love they have for me. I feel it in their hugs, in their kisses. When my mama gives me an extra serving, I feel it. I feel it when my Nonna lets me sample her cooking, but swats at the arms of the rest and tells them they have to wait until it's finished. I feel it when my dad pours me a drink and has long, meaningful conversations with me. I feel it in the way my best friend Nicole would occasionally lean her head on my shoulder, even though she hates being touched or being too physically close to someone.

But I also see the way their gazes linger on me, full of concern, when they think I don't notice. They way their body slightly trembles every time I hug them. How they jump when I get a phone call, thinking it's the army calling me back to duty.

I can easily stop their worry and concern by just not enlisting in the army next tour, but what else would I be doing?

I have no diploma. I don't have any skills that could be useful. My entire family has successful businesses, or working a job they truly enjoy. Well, except for Nicole, who's jobless, but she would argue that her job is traveling as she sometimes gets an ad for Instagram or something like that.

I'm not even sure I like traveling. So I don't think tagging along with Nicole is an option.

At least when I have my army uniform on, I know I have a purpose. Doing something great. Serving my country and protecting my people. But when I'm home, I'm just lounging around, listening to music, watching shitty movies and tagging along with anyone who lets me for the day, like I'm their puppy they can't leave behind or else I'll get sad.

The sound of an alarm going on pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts.

I scrape my hands down my face and meet Mandy's eyes. Her smile is soft, understanding.

"That's it for today, I'm afraid." She swiftly writes something down on her notepad before facing me again. "We can add in an extra session this Friday if you want to talk. About anything."

I only hesitate for a second. "Yeah, okay."

•••

Jessie, a maid in her early thirties, opens the door for me and after greeting her, I walk to the lounge room in my childhood home and the only home I've known. I see my parents are sitting next to each other with a blanket thrown over mama's legs. Luca is sitting with Izzy in between his legs, another throw over their lower halves.

I smile and go to my mom. She returns my smile and scoots to the side before I even have to ask. Sitting between my parents, together we watch the movie they have on the tv.

Mama rests her head on my shoulder after a while and I kiss the top of her head, giving her knee a squeeze.

Looking around, I notice my brother's face is mostly hidden behind his girlfriend's neck, his arms tightly secured around her waist. Izzy is playing with his fingers, a content smile grazing her lips.

My mama leans forward to put her tea cup that my papa made her on the table in front of us.

Something tugs inside my chest. I'm not sure what that feeling is—something close to envy ... or jealousy.

No. I'm not jealous of my family. But I can't help but feel like I'm missing out on something.

I want what my parents have. What Luca has with Isabella.

I want that someone who'll mean the entire world to me. Who I'll love unconditionally. Who I'll go to the ends of the world for and wouldn't hesitate to give my kidney—or even heart—to.

That someone who I can call my partner, my best friend, my girlfriend and some day my wife. That someone who'll be the mother of my children. I want to come home and throw my arms around her and inhale her scent that's become familiar.

I want to eat, laugh, talk and fight and do everything with that someone.

But I know I can't subject her to the heartache that comes with me. I'm not here for most of the year, so it's not worth it being with me.

Even though I want to be selfish, I can't. I can't get with someone when I still don't know what I'm doing with my own life. Will I be in the army for many years to come? Will I re-enlist, or will this tour be my last?

Even I don't have the answers to those questions.

Izzy's giggle has my face turning to them. They're both smiling and whispering among each other, their noses touching.

That feeling from earlier returns but ten times worse. I'm happy for my family, but if I stay here a second longer, I'll start to feel things I don't want to associate with them.

I stand up, give my mama a kiss on the cheek and go to my room.

There, I spend an awfully long time under the warm stream of water, reveling in the feeling that I don't have to hurry the fuck up like I usually have to when I'm on duty. I can take however long I fucking want. So I stay under the water, just ... standing there with my thoughts blank.

Only when my skin starts to get pruny do I get out, dry myself off and sink into the soft mattress. I try to fall asleep, but no matter how still I lay, or how many sheep I count, I stay wide awake.

I hum a tune, hoping to tire my mind into slumber. At first, I don't realize it's the same classic old Italian song Josephine and I were singing in the car a few days ago.

My lips stretch, pulling into a smile as I recall how she wriggled in her seat, held an imaginary microphone to her mouth, and belted out the words.

A chuckle leaves my lips and I close my eyes, finally beginning to feel today's exhaustion getting to me.

• ••• •

A/N:

So this chapter had a lot of inner monologue but it's to help us understand Leo better and what he's feeling.

What did you think of it?