19. Lydia
Lydia
When I realized that this trip would fall on the anniversary of Camilla’s death, I tried really hard to push away the panicked feeling that I wouldn’t be able to get through it, that I would slip into that dark space again and ruin the trip for everyone.
I’m really trying to stay above water this year.
I’m trying to make sure no one sees the cracks, even though it feels like they’re already forcing themselves to be seen since we got to Wilmington yesterday.
I keep trying to paint on a fake smile and pray that this trip is maybe what I need right now to get out of my head.
I didn’t tell Eli what today was. I didn’t want him to worry or be annoyed with me. I just wanted to enjoy our time together, even if I have to fight the demons off silently and push through on my own.
Eli and his mom have barely even spoken on the trip so far. She’s always been pretty nice to me, so I can’t speak ill of her. I know her and Eli aren’t getting along that well right now because of their circumstances, but at least he still has parents who care about him.
Every time something happens, and I want to talk to Camilla about how I’m feeling, I stop myself. I feel like if I give in to the crutch she’s become in my mind, I’ll slip back into that hole.
The anger that’s replacing the sadness is starting to make me worry that that might have been the wrong way to handle this, though.
Everything is making me feel agitated. I feel like I’m crawling in my skin.
Like I want to make this overwhelming feeling I can’t pinpoint or explain stop. I have no idea how to make it go away.
“Do you want to head into the water?” Eli asks, lying on the beach towel next to me.
“Maybe later,” I murmur, flipping over so he can’t see my face.
“Well, it’s hot. I wanted to get in.”
I stayed turned away from him. “Then go.”
“What’s your problem?”
“I don’t have one,” I tell him, feeling myself getting more annoyed. I know it’s not his fault, not really, but I can’t stop it from being thrown in his direction.
“Okay, Lyd.”
We sit in silence until he finally gets up and heads to the water alone.
Everything feels heightened. The sun on my skin, the sweat starting to cover my body, the way the blanket feels under me, my hair sticking to my face, the ache I can’t stop feeling inside, the guilt that makes me replay every thought in my head over and over and over until I wish I could physically turn them completely off, just for a second of peace.
Some days I’m so anxious about constantly wanting to do the right thing, say the right thing, play the right part…
and it’s so exhausting. When I’m consumed by days like these, I tend to just want it all to stop.
I flip the caring switch off and let the built-up pain take over, consequences be damned.
My brain doesn’t let me care about the repercussions in the moment.
Especially when I have so much resentment built up too, and still feel like nothing is actually better.
I keep telling Eli everything is okay with us…
because I want it to be, but it doesn’t actually feel okay.
* * *
Back in the hotel, my sensory overload has turned into the retreating phase.
I want to be alone, and I regret coming on this trip.
I knew how I would get around today, but I was stupid enough to think it could be different this year.
That being away from home and with Eli could distract me enough.
But I think it’s just causing me to spiral in my thoughts about him, too, on top of everything else.
Thinking about how our relationship has flipped so much recently, about how I’m scared it’ll never go back to the way it was, how I’m desperately holding on to the memories of the happy days and telling my brain to erase the bad ones. Those won’t define us. They can’t.
I feel trapped and suffocated in this room with him. Not because I don’t want him around, but because I want to self-destruct alone. I don’t want him to see this. It’s exhausting trying to keep up the front.
“What do you want to eat for dinner?”
I look up at Eli, still lying in his lap, wanting to spill my thoughts to him, just get them out so they stop hurting so much.
“I’m not sure…”
I glance back at the TV, hoping it can be a distraction, but I can’t focus on what’s on enough for it to help.
“Well, help me decide. I don’t know what you’re in the mood for.”
“I don’t have an appetite,” I tell him.
“Lyd…what’s going on?”
I shrug. “Nothing.”
“You’ve been in a bad mood this entire trip. What the hell is wrong with you?”
I feel myself getting aggravated, not wanting to talk about it now with his attitude, but not being able to pretend either. “I said nothing, damn. Drop it.”
Eli lifts me up and turns me to face him. “Who are you talking to, Lydia?”
My heart rate picks up, seeing this go downhill quickly, but not able to stop it.
“I just want to be left alone, Eli. Eat whatever you want. I’m not hungry.”
He looks confused and a little irritated. “Did I do something?”
I force myself to take a deep breath. “No. Fuck. Just leave me alone. Please.”
Eli pushes off the bed and goes to pick up his keys, turning back to me.
“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but I’m not dealing with it.
I’m going down to the beach and getting dinner by myself so I can get the fuck away from you.
I hope you’ve fixed your fucking mood by the time I get back. ”
He quickly slips his shoes on and walks out, slamming the door.
I instantly curl up into the cover on the bed, taking in a deep breath.
Fuck.
I wanted to be alone. That’s what my brain was telling me I needed…but this doesn’t feel any better. Now I just feel like shit, and he’s mad. Why do I keep screwing this all up?
* * *
I keep looking at the clock, feeling like I’ve checked it every ten minutes.
It’s been almost four hours since Eli left the room.
It was already late when he left. Where could he have gone for that long?
I’ve tried to call, and it just goes straight to voicemail each time.
My mind is spiraling. Is he okay? Did something happen?
Is he with someone? I can’t help where the thoughts go, and they don’t stop until I hear the key card being swiped and the hotel door opened.
Eli walks in, kicking off his shoes, and tosses his keys by the tiny kitchen area.
He walks straight into the bathroom without saying anything to me, and it pisses me off even more.
I stand up and walk over, shoving the door open.
“Are you serious right now?”
“What, Lydia?” he says, slurring a little.
I pause. “Were you drinking?”
“Yeah…a little bit.”
“How would you be able to drink, Eli? You’re eighteen. Where did you go?”
“I grabbed food from the pier and started talking to a group of people that ended up buying me some beer…chill.”
“Chill?” I say louder now. “Are you kidding me? You leave for hours! Your phone is off. I don’t know if you’re even alive…and you come back drunk?”
“You didn’t want me around, Lydia! Why do you care now? This trip was supposed to be fun. Get us away from all the problems…but you just had to bring them here too and ruin it.”
“I’m not bringing anything anywhere! It’s just been hard!” I yell.
“What’s been hard? Not being such a bitch all the time?”
I physically recoil at his words. I feel like I was just slapped in the face. I don’t even register when I reach out and actually slap him
Everything happens so quickly. One minute I’m standing there about to tell him the real reason I’ve been upset; the next minute I’m holding my shoulder from the pain of being shoved so hard into the wall that it feels dislocated.
I fall to the floor instantly and cover my face when Eli stands over me, bracing for whatever he’s about to do.
The way my stomach drops, and my heart is racing, I know the panic is taking over, forcing me into fight or flight.
Eli doesn’t hit me, doesn’t yell, doesn’t do anything. He just bends down and holds my arms. I force myself to look at him through the tears, and I see the panic on his face too. But it’s not the same as mine.
“Lydia—”
I shake my head, still crying, but he continues. “Why did you hit me? Why did you make me do that? Are you okay?”
I’m too wrapped up in my own pain that I forgot I even slapped him.
Why did I do that?
“You’ve never called me that before.” It comes out quiet, and I hate how weak I sound. I don’t recognize the boy I love standing in front of me…and I don’t even recognize myself at this point.
Eli grabs my face, and I flinch at his touch. I can see how much that hurts him.
“I’ve been drinking…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.”
“You pushed me, Eli.”
“Lydia…I…I was just reacting to you slapping me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was just instinct.”
“This isn’t normal, Eli. People who love each other don’t physically hurt each other.”
“It really was an accident,” he tells me in a pleading voice.
“I’m sorry for slapping you,” I manage to get out.
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have called you that. I—I just don’t understand why you’ve been acting like this the whole trip.”
I look down at the floor, avoiding his stare. “Today is the day Camilla…died…”
“Lydia—what? I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say anything?”
The words I want to say won’t come out. All I can do is cry, for the pain, inside and out.
Eli lifts me up off the floor and walks me over to the bed.
He places me down and slowly takes my pants off, unbuttoning them and pulling them down as I wrap my arms around my face.
He gently lowers my arms down before he lifts my shirt over my head and tosses everything on the floor beside the bed.
Then he scoots in next to me and wraps us both up in the covers.
He places his arm around me and pulls me close to him, whispering in my hair, “I’m sorry, Lydia.
” He places his hand on my arm, gently stroking it.
“I wish you would have told me what was going on. You made me feel like I was doing something wrong, and I was frustrated that I couldn’t figure out what the problem was.
I know how hard this time is for you, and I didn’t even realize—”
How can someone who brings me this much comfort be the same person who keeps hurting me?
I want to scream.
I want to kiss him.
I want to hate him.
I want him to love me.
I want to be good enough to be loved the right way.
I want to be fixed.
Fuck. What is wrong with us?
The smell of alcohol on his breath makes my skin crawl, but his soft, soothing touch calms my mind, making it slow down for the first time since being on this trip.
“I don’t know how to let go of the guilt,” I admit to him. “Sometimes it feels like a fresh wound that I just can’t get to heal. I relive it over and over…all of it, really—my parents, the shitty foster homes, finding Camilla that day, you…breaking my heart…”
Eli turns me to face him, taking my face in his hands. “I broke your heart?”
I nod silently.
He searches my face, trying to find the right words to help. “Let me put it back together, Lyd.”
He says it so gently that I believe he wants to. I stay wrapped up in him all night, letting him soothe the ache he’s partly to blame for. Letting myself get carried away in the only love from a man I’ve ever known.