12/15/16

MY DOOR CREAKS as it slowly opens. My head rises from my book and locks on my lanky father standing in my doorway.

"You were fighting, again," I state with a deep sigh. I cast my gaze back to the worn book in front of me pretending to focus on the words as my father makes his way into the room.

I hate when my parents fight. It makes me want to curl up into a ball and cry, when I hear their loud voices and hateful words. Our house isn't super big, and paired with the thin walls it makes it easy to detect when an all out war is going down. Even when they try and hide it from me, though they never can.

"We weren't fighting," he tells me as he sits at the corner of my bed making the mattress dip in his favor.

My eyes flicker to meet his, a cold expression coating my face. "I'm sorry, you were discussing very loudly," I say sarcastically. My father's eyes narrow and his lips purse as if he wants to crack a smile at my clever mockery. But he knows he shouldn't, so he holds it in.

"Hayley...." he trails off.

I lift my hands from my book and hold them up in defeat. "I know, I know, " I concede. "I'm sorry," I state though it doesn't come out with any true heart.

"I love your mother, and she loves me," he explains, as he always does. "We love each other so much that sometimes we don't know how to contain our feelings. But just know—"

"You won't stop loving each other," I repeat the words he tells me frequently these days. "Whatever," I mumble under my breath. They have been fighting more often lately, but my father always assures me in their love for each other. But is that sufficient? One day will they decide they love each other too much, and go their separate ways? Is their love actually enough?

I close my eyes and push away the awful feeling that creeps inside my chest at the thought of my parents separating. Of them deciding to not be together anymore. Not to be a family anymore.

"She started it like she always does," I mutter about my mother. I love her, so much. But I connect more with my father in all honesty. We see eye to eye on an array of things. Where as many times I clash with my mother on the same topics. Making me selfishly take my father's side on issues I have no business butting my head in to.

"She didn't Hayley," he tells me sternly. Defending the love of his life like he always does. Even when a part of me thinks he knows I'm right, at least sometimes.

"Don't go," I whine hating how childish I sound. Especially when I like to believe for a young teen that I am wise beyond my years.

"It's not that bad out," he counters trying to make it seem like a quick run to the store is nothing. When in actuality he's right, it is nothing. But something in the pit of my stomach knows, knows that it isn't just nothing. It is something, it is everything.

"How many?" I ask with a slight cock of my head.

A smile touches my father's face, making the wrinkles near his eyes more prominent. "Four chapters," he promises me. The time frame we established when I was younger was the way he communicated how long he would be gone for tonight.

I raise an eyebrow, not believing him. "You know I read fast, right?" I tease him.

"Fine," he relents. "Seven, max," he tells me as he stands from my bed and then leans over and places a loving kiss against my forehead.

"I'll be back soon," he tells me before he heads toward my bedroom door. "I love you," he adds before disappearing.

"Love you more," I shout after him before focusing on the yellowing pages in front of me.

I read seven chapters of my book and there is still no hint of my father coming home. I finish the whole book, and still no sound of his return. I start the book over as a wave of unease washes through me causing my stomach to stir and my pulse to race. He's never late. Ever.

The sound of the wind howling against my windows, and tree branches falling echo around me as I wait for any type of indication of my father's return. The sound of his growling engine, the bright white of his headlights that always stream through my windows. His head peaking through the door to check on me, and making some comment about me needing to go to bed.

I wait, and I wait, and I wait until a different light streams through my window. A light that I would see in my nightmares every night for a year after this fateful night.

Red and blue brilliant lights stream through my window, and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach. My eyes immediately fill with heavy tears in knowing.

Knowing that no matter how many times I read my book my father won't return.

My eyes open and I take a deep breath to settle my racing heart, as I let my gaze settle on the vast ocean before me. I lean back in my chair and settle my head against the small pillow as a faint shaky sigh flutters from my parted lips.

I don't want to keep hiding. I don't want to pretend to be the confident Hayley that everyone knows, I want to actually be her. I don't want to hide from my friends, I don't even want to hide from my past anymore. I'm so tired of it. Exhaustion fills every bone with the consistent feeling of being lost in this great big world.

Because I may be adrift in this crazy universe, but I'm not alone. I have to realize that, I have to come to terms that I have people in my life who love and support me. Grayson's been blowing up my phone ever since I told her about my father. I know she only means well, but here I am continuing to push her away because I don't know how to deal with my own messed up twisted feelings.

But I need to learn to try, because my best friend doesn't deserve this. Doesn't deserve me keeping her at arms length, doesn't deserve the secrets I'm keeping from her, or the way I've been snapping at her. She deserves more, because that's what she's given me time and time again.

So this is me stepping up. This is me no longer being afraid, and coming to terms with myself. Considering if I can, then maybe I can help Chase come to terms with his own demons. Because me continuing to enable my friend only lets me hide behind the walls I have continuously built up around myself.

But I have to tear them down. Actually without me even realizing it Clayton has slowly burned away the shelter I have built around my fragile heart. He has changed me, even if it caused him pain, he's melted down the cold exterior and burned me until I was forced to feel. To feel everything I've pushed away after all these years, and let it bubble up to the surface and explode within me.

Clayton is the sun even though he thinks he's hidden. He isn't hidden from me, he shines so brightly at times he is all I can look at. And I may never get to touch him, or hold him the way I want. But ever since that kiss a year ago he has been slowly changing me, thawing me out until I've come to terms with everything around me. With myself.

"Kylie," I call out to my friend laying in her chair right next to me. I begin slowly not knowing how to open up only knowing that I need to.

"Yeah?" she questions with a tip of her face so her glasses slide down her nose so she can look me straight on. She suggested a day at the beach and little did I know it was everything I needed today.

"I...I um...." I stumble out awkwardly not knowing how to start. Not knowing where to even begin with everything, I just know I need to share myself with the ones who I care about the most. No matter how hard it may be.

"Everything okay Hayley?" she asks as worry lines her voice.

I swallow the lump in my throat that wants to rise and cover me with overwhelming emotions. I push it away for the moment and focus on my goal for now, trying not to break in front of my friend.

"I don't want to continue to push the people I care about the most away," I tell her openly. "I want to be able to have what Grayson has one day and to have that I know I can't be the way I am now," I admit with a broken voice.

"Hayley there's nothing wrong with you," Kylie attempts to reassure me, because she is an amazing friend and person all around.

I shake my head. "But there is," I whisper. "I don't talk to my mother, haven't for years even though she tried to reach out to me. I don't speak about my father and his death that completely altered my world. Or the fear to let anyone in, or the reason I keep everyone at arms length," I pause and add, "especially men." My words wrap around me for a second suffocating me as worry weaves through me that Kylie may judge me or not want to talk me through this. What if this is too much? Too heavy?

But as everything tightens around me constricting around my chest until I feel lightheaded, Kylie's hand lands on my own and everything releases. The fear that once threatened to hold me hostage disperses around me as a simple gesture from Kylie assures me nothing is too much when around a friend. Someone who loves me, no matter the damaged parts that come with me.

A slight pang strike my chest at that thought because I know my damaged parts will never be enough for Clayton. He says he doesn't deserve me, but he is far from the truth. I will never deserve him. He had perfection with his girlfriend, and even if I can come to terms with all the dark and twisty sides of myself, I know Clayton Hasting will always deserve more than me.

He deserves to be happy, and I'm playing with fire as I continue to hurt a man who's received enough pain to last a lifetime. He may be healing me, but I am far from enough to heal him. To be enough for him.

I'm too much of a mess. A mess no one wants a part in fixing.

But as his words from last night ring in my head, I know that I have to show him he isn't as broken as he seems. That if I can begin to heal from my past maybe he can to.

Because the past can only hold onto us if we let it. But I'm tired of being weighed down my past that it only leaves me lost in my present.

Kylie's hand squeezes mine as if to remind me she is here with me. Always. "It's okay to be broken," she states almost as it's exactly what I needed to hear.

"Is it?" I question as tears fight to escape their captivity.

"Of course," she says as a small smile lifts her lips. "It reminds us we're human, but also that our pasts don't have to define us."

"I feel like mine does though," I tell her truthfully.

She shakes her head forcefully. "No Hayley, your past created you," she explains to me. "But only you define who you want to be in this world."

Suddenly, in this exact moment my phone rings loudly causing me to break my hand away from my friend. I reach for my cell and see the name flash across the screen that once caused rage to fly through me. Caused me uninhibited anger because I could only blame her for my past instead of coming to terms with the truth.

That sometimes bad things happen to good people, and nothing can stop that.

So I take a leap, and I slide my finger across the glass screen and respond to the call with a stilted breath.

"Hi, mom," I finally answer the call I've been ignoring for years.