Movie Night

"I've been meaning to get around to watching this movie." I confessed to him as I sat down on the low, yellow sectional, making myself comfortable.

"Didn't it win some awards?" he asked me, fixing his eyes salaciously on my bowl of gummy bears.

Here's the thing: When we went to the store to get snacks for later, I asked him if he wanted gummy bears and he explicitly said that he did not; and that's fine. People can change their minds about stuff, but he DRAGGED the gummy bears! He said they tasted like "chewy-sugar-boogers"?!

I was offended on behalf of all the delicious gummy bears worldwide. Millions of gummy bears are sacrificing their lives every day to bring smiles to people everywhere!

I start the movie. He lays down on my lap and every so often, he'd look up at me chowing down on the jelly Ursa tribe with stars in his eyes, like a curious puppy. He hates admitting he's wrong because he rarely ever is; and I'm all but ignoring him, trying to pay attention to the subtitles of the movie.

He becomes restless, turning this way and that, every few seconds, and I get that he wants some of this bear.

I get it.

He's doing everything but stating the obvious, lest he has to admit that his popcorn is abandoned off to the side, getting cold because he was hatin' on my snack game.

Then, he rolled onto his back and opened his mouth expectantly. I almost gave him one, because he was so damn cute.

Instead, I quickly stuff the cherry bear I'm holding into my own mouth. Honestly, just to see his reaction, which, did not disappoint. He's a very serious kind of person, so to see him get frustrated and pout with disbelief was even cuter than I imagined.

I didn't know how he'd react to my childish antics, but I was quickly reminded that he's a goddamn ninja when he snatched the next bear out of my hand so fast, I didn't even see it.

"Hey!" I laughed as he teased me with a quick wink.

I stuck my tongue out at him, half expecting him to look at me with confusion and ask what it meant. He returned my childish action, giggling like a little boy without a worry in the world. For a moment, his deep eyes lit up with an innocence that had been buried for so long, it had been nearly forgotten.

He scooted closer to me, his warmth making the small hairs on my arms stand with electricity as he leaned in and planted a sweet kiss to my cheek that caused me to blush and butterflies to do backflips in my tummy.

He didn't say it. He mostly finds his strength in silence.

But even something as small and fleeting as that unfiltered moment of happiness between us was something he hadn't felt since before he could walk.

He is slowly adjusting to having a home again.

He shows his gratitude when he does the dishes before I wake up in the morning.

When he cooks the perfect eggs for breakfast- trust me, I've seen the pile of broken shells of the ones that didn't make the cut, in the trash. He shows me when holds me close when I'm vulnerable.

When I look at him, I see perfection, because he's a perfectionist. But I also know he carries the massive burden of his past with him and is constantly battling with his own sense of self-worth, to the point where he doesn't feel he deserves a moment's peace.

I don't know if he'll ever get "over" it. In some ways, I know he doesn't want to forget his life, however sad- above all, so he won't ever fully forgive himself for the pain he caused his younger brother to endure.

Deep down, he thinks that he's ugly- monstrous, even. He doesn't carry himself with uncertainty, but his insecurity manifests as indecisiveness about certain things and in his fear of change. He hides his vulnerability behind eyes, black as obsidian and a steely demeanor that makes a lot of his indiscernible expressions seem ambiguous. Yet, the closer we become, the more I see him getting in touch with a long lost sense of self, he hasn't known since he was a child. Seeing him realize it, is nothing short of awe-inspiring.

Sometimes contentment and bliss may seem elusive if you cannot accept it. But if we take it one day at a time, eventually these scars will heal and peace will take permanent residence in our hearts.