Chapter 10
Summer 2023
“So you think it’s a good idea for me to go on this trip, across the country with Grant, after everything I’ve told you?” I can’t help the frustration seeping from my voice. I turn my head to the side to look at my therapist’s face.
Evelyn McNeal, Dr. McNeal as others know her, has been seeing me for a little over ten years now. She knows everything about my life, and believe me, I have been candid with her. She knows about my childhood, about the life I left behind after that tragic day in Wyoming, and she knows how I’ve dealt with the pain since then.
“Why do you feel it wouldn’t be a good idea?” She always answers a question with a question, and I’m realizing that’s the foundation of psychology. Slightly ironic, I was teetering on the idea of going into this profession.
“Ugh. Why do I have to answer that?” I get irritated that she won’t just tell me flat-out how to react to something. But I guess that’s part of growth.
“Listen, Laney, it’s been over ten years. Your friendship with Grant seems to be on solid ground now after years of what felt like unknown territory for the two of you. Why do you hesitate to do something with him when you know being around him brings you joy?” She has a point, but now I’m being stubborn because I know deep down why I’m hesitant.
“I can see by your expression you know why. Tell me. Say it out loud so we can talk through it.” She continues, and I let out an exasperated breath, knowing that I dug this hole and I am the only one who can see myself out of it.
“The last time I felt this good between us, everything went to shit. Life is ugly, and I was a witness to that. Not just a witness but a survivor of that. I feel like I’m finally standing on my own two feet without feeling like a gust of wind is going to knock me down. But if I open this door, I feel like I may not be able to close it.” So much has happened in the last ten years, yet, in some ways, not much has changed at all.
Grant and I took time to heal. He thinks I was healing from the incident as a whole, but he doesn’t realize what I lost that day was what I was really having a hard time coming to terms with. I felt like the detour my life took me on had a lot more to do with the what-ifs in the scenario versus the trauma that day brought into my life.
Survivor’s guilt, something I have really embraced since starting therapy, is something I have learned to deal with. It doesn’t mean that I don’t feel an ache each time I get to accomplish something, knowing that Artie and many others who lost their lives that day will never have a chance to do the same.
Eugene has been a part of my recovery throughout the last decade. I had to do a twelve-step program of sorts that involved forgiveness toward myself, and I had to feel that Eugene felt no anger toward my survival while his boyfriend was taken from this life.
I still have a connection to Artie’s past love. Eugene met a lovely man about seven years after the incident in Wyoming. I was at his wedding last year, and it was beautiful to see him smile in that way. He lives in Oregon with his husband and golden retriever. He and his little family are thriving.
With that part of my heart mended in some way, I feel like I have put more of a focus on Grant recently. Since everything happened at my school, Grant and I haven’t been intimate. It’s like that part of our relationship never rekindled, but not from a lack of desire on my part. It seems Grant Stanley only got more handsome with time. But each time I felt a tug toward reconnecting on that level, I found something inside stopping me from taking that happiness back.
He continues to travel the world, his photography taking off not long after I settled here in New York. His glimpse of life through a lens is something to envy. He’s currently in Japan, and the photos he sends me are extraordinary. His smile still manages to warm my heart in a way no one has ever accomplished.
We’ve kept our relationship fully in the friendship zone. We haven’t crossed a line, and a part of me is craving him more in that way each time I see him. But another part of me fears how I will react if we start things up again. My mind wanders back to that morning and how naive I was to think life could simply exist with no difficulties or ugliness to creep up. I fear something will erupt and cause things to go backward. I’m letting fear take a front seat to the possibility of us being together.
I know he hasn’t been a saint, waiting for me to initiate things again. Nor have I. Let’s be honest: a girl has needs. And I fulfill them but without any emotion attached. I date someone for a bit of time, but then I just don’t find a deeper connection. In reality, I don’t find what I have with Grant anywhere but in him. So, I’m just avoiding what I know is right in front of me.
Evelyn pulls me from my thoughts. “I think the key word is you’re a survivor. Laney, what I’m about to tell you is something you’re going to try to push back from, but I’m going to say it, and I want you to listen. You are not just now standing on solid ground. You have always stood steady, but your mind just wanted to protect you. You have been strong from the moment you walked onto that campus until this moment in time here with me. You haven’t lost strength. If anything, you’ve gained it. But I know that it’s hard to see life with that outlook because life has shown you a nasty side of itself. I know you feel this divide between the Laney before the shooting and the one that’s in front of me now, but please remember you are a survivor, and you’re still you.”
I hear everything she’s saying, and it takes everything in me not to fight her on each point she made just now. Absorbing her words, I know I am a strong person. I think I’m coming to terms with that more this year than in years past. It doesn’t mean I’m not hesitant. I’m scared.
“I feel like things finally feel right with us, and I don’t want to mess that up. It mimics how I felt hesitant before the shooting; telling him how I felt was something I kept avoiding for fear of ruining what we already had together.” That’s really the center of why I’m pushing this, really him, away from having me the way I wanted before the incident.
“I get it, Laney. I really do. I understand the fear; it’s understandable, but I think if Grant has done anything, it has been to show you that he’s not going anywhere. He sees you for all you are. The cracks, the strength, the unknown, he’s been there. He’s not asking anything of you except for your unconditional love. Can you give him that?” I can see the care in Evelyn’s eyes. She’s seen me at my worst, when I felt like a shell of myself, and looking at where I am now, I can sense the warmth she has for my well-being.
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” That makes her smile, and I know that it’s my time to stop here. I think the fact I’ve admitted that trying is an option means I should take that and try to step toward something I walked away from many years ago and have been ever since.
When I leave Evelyn’s office, I’m quickly reminded of the hustle and bustle of the city. People are walking all over, everyone with a place to go. Maybe that was what I needed when I got here ten years prior. I felt lost, and in a city like this, you don’t have an option but to choose a path. Feeling lost wasn’t quite an option once I decided to engulf myself in this life. I took a step forward, even if it felt scary and unknown.
I lucked out in getting connected with Evelyn early on in my relocation to New York. Becca was serious about me starting therapy on a more regular basis after I moved out here. Evelyn and Becca met when they attended NYU together. There, they both became fast friends. Throughout the years, many of Becca’s patients have been referred to Evelyn, and I can see why. Evelyn McNeal doesn’t feel like a doctor psychoanalyzing my thoughts. She feels like a confidant who will help lay a strong foundation for my world that once felt like it was up in flames.
While working with Evelyn through my recovery, I took up yoga per her suggestion. I fell in love with the movements. The clarity my mind found when on my mat was something I had never experienced, and it opened up a part of me that had felt closed off from the world for a long time. From there, I got certified as an instructor, and now I teach at a little studio not far from the brownstone I live in with my sister and her kids.
Life is really quick at reminding us that each day is fragile. My brother-in-law, Beau, passed away five years ago after a battle with cancer. The move to New York felt right for Ellie following his passing, and we’ve been living together ever since. We work well together, molding our lives into what works for all of us. Luckily, being near my nieces and nephew is a gift I’ve gained, but at the expense of losing the love of her life leaves my heart aching for her.
I take a step out of Evelyn”s office and I”m immediately assaulted by the sounds this city has to offer. As I make my way through the streets, the warmth of the summer enveloping me the more I walk into different neighborhoods, I decide to pull out my phone and tell Grant my news. If I don’t do this now, I may not find the courage later.
He picks up after one ring, his voice groggy with sleep. “Hello, Bean.”
Shoot, I forgot of the time difference, especially as he”s about to get on a plane and begin his long travels in the days to come. His next assignment is in Europe.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I forgot to calculate the time difference.” I feel awful. I know that of anyone who calls, he picks up whenever I reach out, no matter the time.
“Don’t apologize, Lane. I was wiped after the day I had. I must have fallen asleep early.” Grant tries to reassure me. I know how hard it’s going to be for him to fall back asleep now. His clock is all off with the recent back-to-back travel he’s done.
“Well, I just finished with Evelyn, and I thought I’d call. I have good news.” I can’t contain my excitement. Now that I’ve made up my mind to go to California with Grant, it’s like I’m bursting at the seams to tell him.
“Oh yeah? Well, now I’m really happy you called. What’s the news?” I can imagine his smile spreading across his face, probably showcasing those dimples that make my heart melt. Every piece of Grant has been the balm to my broken heart throughout the years.
“I’m going to California with you in October. Is that offer still on the table?” It’s then my heart rate accelerates. I didn’t factor in the possibility that he may have invited someone else. Oh my gosh! What if he invited a female friend? Shit. I should have fielded this conversation a bit with questions first. But my excitement took over, and I blurted it out and assumed I was still the only one on his list of invitees.
He still hasn”t spoken, and I have no idea how to read the silence. Then, to my relief, he speaks up.
“Fuck yeah, Laney. Shit. I wasn’t sure you’d come. Let me get on my computer and make sure your name is added to the attendees’ list. I’m pumped we get to do this together.”
Grant is referring to the yoga retreat he invited me to in Joshua Tree. Of everyone, he’s aware of my discomfort in crowds. Little by little, he has been taking me places, mostly here in New York and surrounding states, where I can start to feel more comfortable in a larger crowd. That being said, he’s getting me to California, where the list of yogis attending is nothing like a large crowd I get nervous in. It’s a place where I will become vulnerable with my feelings and what have become some of my insecurities.
I was never one to shy away from going and having fun with my friends. But once everything happened years ago, I sheltered myself. I saw too much danger when out in a crowd, and I started to revert to simple things. This past year, with the help of Evelyn, those around me have tried to help me get more comfortable in other settings. Grant has taken this task to another level. Top that off with everyone around me going to therapy to see how they can be the most helpful, it seems every person I love seems to have a hand in my recovery.
It’s been over ten years, and I feel like my progress has been slow. But I’m constantly reminded in my sessions that each person has their own journey. Sometimes, taking a few steps forward causes me to fall back by more steps than expected. I’ve tried to be kind and give myself grace when I’m really trying to live a more fulfilling life. I know I will never be the same exact person I once was, but I see slivers of myself coming through in my movements, and that’s what I get most excited about. And with each stride forward, Grant is usually the one by my side to witness it. That spears me on to keep trying, and I can’t wait to take this leap.
“I hope I’m able to pull out of my shell a little more on this trip. I looked at the website, and it looks like an incredible experience. I’m happy to be doing this with you,” I tell Grant, my happiness seeping through my words that I hope carries through the phone and that he feels this jolt of excitement from my words alone.
“Each moment I spend with you is a gift, Laney. I will take all the moments you’ll give me.” I feel his genuine words hit me in the chest. “Let me get through the next few weeks, then I’ll head to New York, and we’ll take a flight from there together to California. Does that work for you? Can you get a few extra days off so we can fly into Los Angeles and drive up the coast for a few days?” He sounds so hopeful, and he’s always been great about giving me options when it comes to making plans.
“I have no doubt Loni will accommodate my travels. She was one of the first to tell me to go on this trip with you.” Now, I can’t stop smiling. This is finally happening.
We go through a few more details, and once we hang up, the plan is in place to fly across the country for a week together. I have just about six weeks to get myself ready, physically and emotionally.
We’ve been working hard to get our friendship moving forward instead of being stagnant and stuck on that terrible day. I have my reasons for being closed off, but I hope with time, I can face the pain I have carried with me since that day and let Grant in. He doesn’t understand the hurt I experienced that day, but that’s mostly due to the fact that I didn’t allow him to see me, all of me after I was released from the hospital.
We’ve been quite reserved; in reality, I have been, with all the pain I’ve carried with me throughout the years. Letting Grant see the wound that I feel has never healed is something that might cause us to completely separate, so I’ve kept it close to the chest. And if possible, I’d like to finally open my heart to him and find him waiting on the other end of that with open arms. I still want more with him, and now I’m finally able to stand up to that desire. Maybe this trip can be that first step.