Chapter Text
Verbal affirmation and physical touch were always present in Sascha’s childhood: His mom always complimented his creative work, building chestnut figures in kindergarten or making gingerbread houses with far too much icing. His dad, instead, hugged him every day before leaving for work, messed up Sascha’s hair and laughed at his loud, childish protest. His childhood home was a safe space to him, filled with love and boundless understanding.
Then, his parents got divorced and his dad moved away. And it was never the same, again.
His parents tried: They were both patient and kind people, still communicated with each other for Sascha’s sake, but the once everlasting warmth was gone. His safety net suddenly didn’t feel so safe anymore; an old wooden floorboard that creaked with every step. His life-long constant was gone. His mom still told him every day that she was proud of him and his dad hugged him even harder than before when Sascha visited. But it felt uneven, nevertheless. Like a piece of furniture that worked perfectly without the left-over screw – and yet, you can’t help but wonder if something’s still missing.
He wasn’t completely alone in this though: He had Isi. A person physically holding the furniture together, looking around with a flashlight, in a desperate search for the hole without a screw. They were there before Sascha became an uneven floorboard that moved with every touch. And she stayed when Sascha tried to repair it: Held the tools and wood filler with a gentle and reassuring smile.
Of course, when Sascha thinks of love, he thinks of his mom displaying his chestnut figures in her office. He thinks of his dad gently kissing him on the head, giving him a piggyback ride whilst having back problems. He loves them both unconditionally, a child’s intuition that is either validated or destroyed over time.
But if he thinks of love he’s actually built, love that’s everlasting because it’s earned, he thinks of Isi. He can’t recall a moment when he hasn’t loved Isi; can’t imagine the person he was before she came into his life. He clearly remembers the Sascha before the divorce; he couldn’t even begin to pinpoint the Sascha before Isi if he tried.
I. my forever friend
They were thirteen years old, his parents split seven months ago and he hadn’t seen his dad for over six weeks. In the first three months, his dad called every night, asked Sascha about his day, the Incis’ and if he learned anything new in school. His dad was ecstatic, always tried to get updates on Sascha’s projects, encouraged him in a way that was unusual to Sascha because he hadn’t always been the most vocal supporter. (Instead, he always bought new material for Sascha to try out without asking, surprised Sascha once a month with a new ridiculous tutorial he saw online on a shady blog.)
At first, Sascha was relieved about the divorce: His parents were more attentive than usual; a welcoming change after the lukewarm energy in their home for so many months (or even years). But that changed after three months: His mom was busier with work than ever; his dad only called every other day and Sascha spent most of his time at Isi’s place: Looking after Umut with Isi or cooking with her entire family.
It was the day before Christmas, and his parents hadn’t asked him where he wanted to celebrate or if he had any wishes. For the first time, they didn’t have a Christmas tree at home, no lights hanging on the windows, the smell of cookies non-existent. He was over at Isi’s again, but his attention was elsewhere, his eyes following the violet light on the wall.
“Sascha?”
He blinked, turned to the side: Isi was watching him with a concerned expression. Their hands were folded behind their back, secretly holding something.
“Sorry. What?”
“I know that– I mean, you’ve been talking about, “she took a deep breath, exasperated. “I have a present for you?”
Sascha’s eyes widened. “We were exchanging gifts?”
Isi immediately shook his head. “No, don’t worry. Just – you’ve been talking about this Lego set for weeks and with everything going on – I convinced Baba to get it for us?”
They slowly brought it out: It was impressively wrapped in Christmas paper, a golden bow placed in the middle of the present.
“You don’t even like to build Lego sets?”
Isi smiled shyly, shrugging. “I mean, I like building them with you? They’re just boring on your own,” they gave it to Sascha. “We can also ask Umut if he wants to help.”
Sascha ran his fingertips over the printed paper, his eyes glued to the present. He was lost for words; his heart was beating out of his chest. Sascha has felt so lonely for the last few months, an unpolished piece of wood left out in the cold. As comfortable and familiar he felt at the Incis’, he always knew he would go home to his own apartment that lacked the warmth he desperately craved. He already accepted his fate for this Christmas: A lukewarm cocoa he prepared for himself, a quickly wrapped gift from his mom and a five-minute phone call from his dad, exclaiming that they’ll definitely see each other soon. In all of this chaos, in all of the broken promises and destroyed constants, he forgot one important thing: Isi was still there. He was there and they didn’t plan on leaving. They were best friends. And while Sascha didn’t believe in a forever marriage anymore, his best friend hasn’t proven him wrong yet. They were it.
He gently unwrapped the present, carefully trying not to tear the paper apart. It was the Lego set he’s been dreaming about for the last two months and Isi remembered. She saw him.
He looked up, suddenly completely overwhelmed: In Sascha’s mind there were no words to possibly describe this warm feeling, describe the sudden urge to show Isi how much he appreciated them. Maybe, it was a little bit like walking barefoot on a wooden bridge soaked in sunshine; the overwhelming warmth of flowing water after a winter walk. Maybe it was merely the feeling of love; such a simple yet powerful word that thirteen-year-old Sascha wouldn’t have dared to use.
“Do you like it?”
Sascha pushed himself forward, threw his arms around Isi’s neck. This wasn’t their first hug by far but it still felt different; more meaningful somehow. Isi became a part of his family that day.
“Thank you so much, Isi”, Sascha whispered and he still felt like it wasn’t enough.
“That’s what best friends are for, right?”