44. 44
LYLA - MID MAY
“ I can’t believe he did that!” I shriek.
Cassie, Cara and I are sitting on the couch, Cara’s phone between us, as we watch her brother Wylder punch a paparazzi in the nose. The video has gone viral and Wylder’s public relations manager has a big task on his hands now. Over the last several months, her brother’s behavior has worsened and Cara is distraught. He’s rarely answering her calls or texts and his bad boy image has gotten out of control.
“I know.” Cara cringes. “He has never been a violent guy and I just don’t understand how this happened. I barely even recognize him. He’s lost weight and he always has bags under his eyes.”
“He’s still hot, though.” Cassie adds and I shoot her a withering look.
“But,” Cassie back-tracks. “He’s an asshole. He’s letting his fame get to him and it’s not a good look. Plus, he’s barely speaking to you and your parents.”
“Yeah, my mom is worried sick about him.”
“It seems like he might be on something.” Cassie says, pointing at his blood shot eyes in the pap’s footage .
Cara nods. “I think he’s definitely been doing drugs with that girl he’s been seen with the last six months.”
“Lacey?”
“Yes, her. She’s still in the picture and I know she’s using him for fame and money. She was a wanna be model for years and never got signed by anyone because of her ‘erratic behavior’” She rolls her eyes. “I can see why.”
We watch the screen wide-eyed as Lacey pushes the paparazzi that had swarmed them after Wylder got his punch in. Her eyes are bloodshot and you can see her ribs through her tight t-shirt. She has dark circles under her eyes, almost purple in color, and her hair is pulled up in a messy bun. She looks strung out and is also aggressive with the paparazzi, kicking one of them in the balls and slapping another.
“She’s definitely bad news,” Cassie confirms.
Cara turns off the screen and lets out a long breath.
“I don’t know what to do. I wish I could see him, but I can’t get away with school right now.”
“He’s going to be okay, Cara.” I reassure her. “He just needs to talk to someone. Hopefully this PR mess is his bottom and he’ll get the help he needs.”
She gives me a sad but grateful smile before taking a sip of her wine. We’d gathered at Cassie’s apartment for an emergency girls’ night after the news had broke about her brother and Cassie has her usual spread of food out on the table, despite the short notice.
Cassie and Cara have been amazing since my attempt in January. Not only are they completely unphased by my bipolar disorder, but they ask questions and try to become more informed. They wanted to know what I went through, how it felt, and how they could help me. They even signed up for a mental health first aid course last month, insisting that they needed the information and wanted to learn.
I don’t know what I did to earn the love of these two women, but I’m so grateful for their friendship. They had visited me as much as possible when I was in the hospital, and had spent the whole night before I was discharged from inpatient treatment making casseroles and other foods for me to throw in the oven and stocked Parker’s fridge with goodies. Apparently they had been made aware that he was planning to ask me to move in, and they said they wanted to make my return home easier on me, not wanting me to worry about anything.
After we move on from Wylder’s troubled behavior, we chat about everything under the sun. Cassie is hoping to lease a place from Dean this year, to finally open up her catering business. Cara is thriving in her online classes that she started in the spring semester, and is still working as a paralegal at Chris’ firm part time to pay her bills.
And I, for the first time in my life, am feeling so happy with myself and the people around me.
It’s a beautiful spring day, and Parker and I are lying in his meadow. The warmer temperatures and recent rain mean that the meadow is blooming, surrounding us with wildflowers. Pinks, yellows, and purples create a soft pop of color in the otherwise green field, and the trees surrounding the property are swaying lazily in the breeze.
We lay on our backs, staring up at the clouds that pass us by, and I let out a contented sigh.
“Happy over there?”
I turn to look at the man I love, his eyebrow quirked in question with a light and easy smile gracing his face.
“Yes,” I admit. “I think for once, I truly am.”
I pause, pulling my bottom lip into my mouth as I redirect my attention back to the blue skies above.
“I remember being a kid, and just praying and yearning for the day that I felt happy and safe. Everything that happened in that house made me feel like I was destined to live a life of seclusion and torment, constantly feeling on edge and unsettled. And then I found you, Parker.”
I tenderly reach out for his hand and he immediately wraps it around my own.
“I couldn’t have even imagined how much you would change my life when we first met. Spewing words at one another at first before becoming best friends, and then slowly falling in love with you, brought me back to life. Loving you is the greatest honor I’ll ever have, and I can’t thank you enough for not only literally saving my life, but for giving me safety.”
Moisture lines my eyes for several seconds before the tears finally flow down my cheeks in a river of gratitude.
I peek at Parker again, seeing tears lining his eyes as well as he looks at me like I’m everything he’ll ever need.
“You make me feel safe, and I truly can’t believe I’m lucky enough to share this life with you. I love you, and I promise to always be your safe space, too.”
A giant smile plays on his lips as he turns over and kisses me.
He kisses me with every ounce of love and affection he can muster. I can feel it seeping into my skin at every point of contact, filling me with light and healing my soul, one piece at a time.
I huff out a breath as I make the trek up the last stretch.
I’ve been in Emerald Falls for almost nine months, and it’s a place I’m so happy to call my home.
The urge to hike was so strong this morning that I laced my boots up well before sunrise, leaving Parker sleeping soundly in bed. I sent him a text telling him where I was and sending a picture of the entrance of the trail, in case of an accident. Parker had taught me a lot about hiking precautions, and this was one of them. My bear bell chimes on my backpack as I take the last few steps to reach the top and I come to a stop, taking in the view.
Before me is a valley. A river runs through the middle, the water a beautiful turquoise blue this time of year, and I could see mountains spanning the entire perimeter. The leaves have started growing back on the trees and the pines are getting greener every day, marking the summer to come. I deeply inhale the fresh air, coated with the scent of the earth underneath my feet and the fresh water below.
It’s May twenty-seventh, and four months since my suicide attempt. Despite feeling stronger every day, I know that my battle will never truly be over.
I used to think of myself as broken—irreparably so.
But there’s so much beauty in my brokenness.
I feel so deeply that it’s suffocating, but I love greater than most.
I struggle with the motivation to stay alive, but nobody lives as freely as me.
My darkness coats me in its black ichor, but my light chases it away.
Something as simple as a sunrise, its pastel colors painting the morning horizon, can bring me to tears. We experience it every day and treat as mundane, but it’s something that feeds my soul and makes me believe in new beginnings every morning.
So much beauty, held within so much pain, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Bipolar disorder was something I viewed as a weakness for so long, but it’s truly my greatest strength.
People like my father may see us as abnormal, broken, or odd. Sadly, it’s the world we live in.
But the right people will see us, every jagged piece, and still believe we are whole. They will lift us up, they won’t cower away from our darkness, and their embrace feels like coming home.
And I have finally found my home, my tribe, and myself.
THE END