Chapter Forty-Six: I can be Happy with Uncertainty

The town that Holly grew up in is a three hour drive from Avonroy, and it's very charming. Holly is living in a condo just off of Main Street with Paul.

Paul isn't really what I've been picturing. I knew that Paul had overcome serious drug problems and left a small town to get a college education, which should have impressed me. But I also knew that he'd hooked up with Holly every time he'd seen her since high school, despite refusing to commit to her until she got sober.

I know that Holly was never successful in getting sober until she let go of her fantasy of marrying Paul and came to Avonroy to start pursuing a life of her own. And until she met me and realized that there were other men out there.

If she couldn't stay sober for him for the last five years, why is it going to be different now?

And what kind of guy is okay with letting his woman give up on pursuing her dreams just so that she can be with him?

So I'd been expecting him to be either a complete asshole or a complete angel, because I figured that those were the only two kinds of guys who could have gotten a girl like Holly so wrapped around his finger.

But Paul is neither an asshole or an angel. He's just a guy.

He's average looking, with that colorless once-blonde shade of brown hair, black glasses, and the last vestiges of acne scarring on his chin, bright, optimistic eyes, and a shy but easily prompted smile. He greets me cautiously, as though Holly has warned him that I'll probably be looking for a reason not to like him.

"Nice to meet you," he says, "I've heard all about you from Holly."

"You too," I tell him, and he and Holly invite me into their condo.

Paul seems like a very average guy with very average interests. He works at the ski resort up the road from the town as a marketing coordinator, he's got an extensive collection of DVDs and video, and he's a little nervous and awkward, but I can tell that he'd have a great sense of humor if he were relaxed.

I get the feeling that Paul was the kind of guy who got into drugs young because he didn't fit in anywhere, and getting high gives you the freedom not to give a shit. But he'd grown up and moved on.

Holly, on the other hand, got into drugs because she couldn't cope with the world, and I really hope that Paul can help her cope now that she's clean.

But Holly does seem happy, and she informs me happily that she hasn't had a cigarette since she left Avonroy.

"Congrats," I say, hugging her, "I'm proud of you. We miss you at Avonroy."

Nodding with a slightly guilty look on her face, Holly says, "I know. But I'm finally sleeping again. I never realized how stressed out I was there until I left. And I can relax again."

I can see that there's a difference in her, and if it's that she feels more comfortable and safe, then I know I should respect that.

Holly has repeatedly told me that there's no way I can understand social anxiety unless I've experienced it, but in a way, I think I get it. Campuses like Avonroy just aren't built for people like Holly.

"I'm writing again too," she says, "I mean like really writing. Not like at Avonroy. I'm not writing because I have to. It's not to meet assignment requirements. It's writing because I want to. And it's wonderful."

I don't know what Holly thinks her future holds if she only wants to write the things she wants to write, but I guess that's for her to figure out, not me.

Paul goes to meet some buddies for a day of skiing at the resort he works at. He invites me to join him, but I've never been skiing before in my life, and I don't know if my shoulder would appreciate the cold weather and inevitable falling over.

So Holly and I hang out in the condo talking for most of the day.

"You're really sure that this is what you want?" I ask, trying to get an honest read on what is going through Holly's head.

She nods. "Yeah," she says, "Right now, this is what I want. I dunno, Blaine. I'm happy. Paul and I… we just work, you know? He gets me. I get him."

"But there has to be more to life than the boy, Holly. Are you happy in Whitefish? Being alone here all day while he works? What's your plan?"

She shakes her head. "I'm fine, Blaine. I told you; I'm writing. I know that you need to have purpose and drive and all that to feel fulfilled, but I honestly just enjoy the process of writing and the comfort of feeling safe and loved in the place that I live. I've got good friends here. I've got family here. For the first time in a very long time, I can be around the people I love without feeling guilty and dirty and like I'm a failure. I'm clean and I'm home and I'm finally starting to understand that life isn't actually that complicated."

I think that life is extremely complicated, and I know that Holly can see that opinion in my eyes as she tells me this. "Blaine…" she smiles at me. "The truth is that not everyone's life is as dramatic as yours is."

"I wouldn't call my life dramatic," I say.

She rolls her eyes. "It is," she says, "That's who you are. You feel things, and you thrive on experience, and you search constantly for a way to define and achieve success. You have opinions about things, and you analyse the crap out every detail of every decision you make. I love that about you. But the world isn't like that for me. I can be happy with uncertainty and aimlessness as long as I feel secure."

"But if you could never stay sober in Whitefish before, why is it different now?"

Holly crosses her arms defensively. "Jesus, Blaine. It's like you want me to fail. Things are different now. Paul is back. Karin and I have reconciled. And most importantly, I've finally figured out who I am and why I lost myself for so long. And you helped me with that."

"How did I help?"

She says, "You came to Avonroy with all of these stories about horrors in your past, but you were so… in tune with your thoughts and opinions. You always have an answer-an explanation-a rationalization-for every one of your problems. You don't ignore things; you make peace with them-or at the very least, you find a way to understand things so that you can try to make peace with them."

I say, "And how does that help you?"

Holly runs a hand through her hair, sweeping it off of her face. "You taught me to slow down and get to know myself. To start trying to find the root of my problems instead of just pushing them out of my way. I've tried to talk to you about this before, but you're so sure that I'm making a mistake that you won't listen."

"I'm listening," I say.

She says, "I know that it might be a little insensitive to talk to you about how hard it is to grow up in a world that wants to change you, but I guess I can't apologize for not being you. The fact is that from a very young age, I was taught that it wasn't okay to be introverted and shy. Schools rewarded the kids who participated in class discussions and excelled in group work, and they punished kids like me who sat on the sidelines and listened. It didn't matter that I learned just as much if not more than the other kids; I wasn't learning it their way, so I was punished."

I'd never even considered how unfair that system of schooling is until now, and I open my mouth to tell her so, but she cuts me off.

"So from as early as kindergarten, I was under the impression that my personality type was the wrong personality type. That I had to change who I was if I wanted to be successful. Except that trying to be involved in social situations made me physically ill with anxiety."

I try again to say something, but she keeps talking.

"And of course my anxiety is a problem; it's a disorder. But if I didn't feel constantly pressured to step outside of my comfort zones and make myself miserable trying to function in a world built for extroverts, maybe that disorder wouldn't have ever manifested. And I'm done trying to conform to what the world wants me to do. If I can stay in my hometown and live a life that doesn't scare the hell out of me, I'm going to do it."

"You don't think that challenging yourself is a good thing?"

She looks like she wants to slap me. "Extroverts aren't asked to challenge themselves into being introverts. Why should I? Pushing myself to be social makes me miserable, pushes me into drugs, and builds so much self-hate inside of me that I actually get dizzy. It's just not worth it. I don't expect you to understand it, but please; respect it. I need you to accept that I've made this choice for a reason, and I'm happy."

She's so self-defensive and earnest that I can't feel anything but guilt. If Holly's happy, I have to be happy for her. And I think, seeing her here, I actually am happy for her. It's just going to take some getting used to the idea that happiness can mean something so entirely different for her as it does for me.

I nod, giving her a long hug. "Just never see the time you spent at Avonroy as a mistake. Because you saved me more than you know, and I've seen you evolve so much. Maybe Avonroy wasn't right for you, but I hope you're glad you went."

Holly kisses my cheek and pulls back to study my face for a moment, smiling in a tranquil sort of way that I've never seen from her before. "Thanks, Blaine," she says, "I needed to hear that. Avonroy will always be a special memory for me; mostly because of you. Promise we'll be friends forever?"

I nod. "Of course. You and Kurt are all I've got."