by S. Moose
My parents did everything they could to help. We went on trips and they gave me space when I needed room to be alone. As much as I love them they didn’t know what to say. My hurt was their hurt. When they looked at me they saw a fragile girl who could break at any time. What could they say to make me feel better?
Nothing makes sense to me anymore. Living this life isn’t what I have in mind. When something is stolen from you, is there a way you can open your heart again, break down the walls and rebuild your life once more? Everything scares me and I can’t figure out what I’m supposed to do. I’m twenty-three years old, still living with my parents, without a job or opportunities.
Before my life took another route, I had dreams about going to a bigger city and making a difference. I have the tools to build my future, just not the strength. Graduating from a good college, I hold my Bachelor of Arts degree and I’m not doing anything with it. I didn’t get a chance to walk the stage and hold my diploma in my hand. No. When I got home, it was framed on the wall in the family room along with my senior picture from high school and a picture of me in my cap and gown when I first received it in the mail. I never got to wear it again. My last memories of college are of him and what he did to me.
Now it’s easier to stay home, in my room, and ignore the outside world.
“Go to sleep,” I mutter, my eyes slowly fluttering and soon all I see is the dark. “You won’t have any nightmares tonight. You’ll be fine. Just go to sleep and take yourself to a happy place. Go to Tyler,” I quietly mumble before falling into a deep sleep.
“You smell so good, pretty girl. Is this what you want?” His hands slide down my back to my ass and down my legs. “God, I can’t wait to feel you.”
“Please stop,” I beg, “please let me go.”
Jolting up, my body is covered in sweat and my mind is spinning in loops. Frantically, I look around the room to make sure I’m okay and no one else is here with me. Rubbing my eyes, I fall back onto my pillows and cry. This isn’t fair. I can’t get through a night without a nightmare.
If only I could stay awake forever. Sleeping means that I don’t have the power in my mind to block him no matter what I do. It leaves me vulnerable. I’ve tried sleeping pills and working out until the point of exhaustion. Nothing works. I still see him and I feel what he’s doing to me. I need to be the captain of my own life, sailing through with my own decisions or else I’ll spiral out of control again.
Reaching over for my glass of water, I drink what’s left. Needing more, I slip out of bed and walk downstairs to get a refill. When I walk by the front door I decide to step outside. The cool air hits my face. I inhale deeply and feel the cleansing breath flow through my body. After holding it in for a few more seconds, I exhale, the air leaving through my lips. I sit on the wooden swing on my porch and trace my fingers over what’s been carved against the white wood, B + T forever.
Looking up and to the right side, I see his house. It’s dark inside, with only the porch lights on. My eyes go to his bedroom window and I wonder what he’s doing. His dark blue Jeep is in the driveway, so I know he’s home. Or at least, I hope he’s home and safe. The painful realization hits that the one person I want most in this world is next door and I can’t find the right words to tell him how I feel. I can’t tell him I think about him all the time and look at his Facebook and Instagram pages. I can’t tell him I hate his friend, Serena, and wish he would stop being friends with her. Each time I look at their picture, which I have saved to my phone because I’m that girl, I cringe. His smile is bright and she looks good standing next to him. I know they’re good friends and I’m glad she lives thousands of miles away in California. I think I would lose my shit if she lived here.
Then again, I don’t have the right to be jealous or controlling.
Tyler Scott is the one person I love and want to see forever with. He’s my dream come true and makes life worth it.
And I let him go.
It’s been a year since I broke up with him. The only boy I’ve ever loved and wanted to be with. It’s silly that I’m hurting from the pain of letting him go. It was my idea and I fought him every chance I had. He fits my life and loves me unconditionally. He’s the one who can make me smile, laugh, holds me tight when I cry and he makes me feel safe. The decision I made to break up with him wasn’t to cause him pain. No. It was to let him go so he could be free.
The last two years of my life have been dark and scary. There were so many times I thought about ending it and I almost came close.
I took a bunch of sleeping pills and had spread out on my bed. I felt my body going weak and my eyes started to close. Tears rolled down my cheek as I held the letter of goodbye in my hand. It was dark in my room and there was nothing around me. I felt the vomit slowly coming up my throat and I found the strength to turn over and throw up the pills, emptying the contents of my stomach. For five days, I was sick and delusional. I never told anyone about that day. It’s hard to admit out loud that I tried to take my own life. From that moment on, I felt like my life had purpose and I became stronger. Better.
Every decision we make changes the course of our life, every choice leading to a predestined fate chosen for us. We don’t have control of what will happen, nor can we stop the inevitable.
So when you love someone, it means so much more when they love you back. You start your lives together and go through all the monumental events every couple goes through. You make the decision to become his and you take him as yours. The both of you decide everything together and soon the future is slowly coming into view. When life gets too perfect, that’s when things unravel. Right before my eyes, I lost myself and I lost Tyler. I’m still trying to figure out what the best thing to do is, because every decision I make doesn’t sit well with me.
When you love someone, you’re supposed to be with them. Only in my situation, I can’t. My stomach sinks thinking about intimacy and feeling the pleasure of sex. When I think about sex, even making love, I think about that night. When people have sex, they aren’t thinking about getting hurt or being taken advantage of. Hopefully they’re thinking about how good it feels, and when you’re having sex with someone you love, you’re thinking about the way your bodies are connecting. That’s what sex is about.
Only now, I associate sex with force, pain, and dying.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to Cabo with us?” My best friend, Mandy Scarlata, asks while we’re having dinner at Umi.
“Yes,” I tell her, “I am positive!”
She groans and stabs her shrimp with a fork and I smile, picking up a piece of my sushi and dipping the roll in soy sauce. “Seriously, how are you turning down a free trip?”
“Because I’m not ready to go out and party, Mandy.” And it’s the truth. Going out scares the shit out of me. Parties and Bayleigh don’t mix very well. Drinking and Bayleigh don’t mix either. Pretty much I’m the girl who likes to be home before dark and in her jammies, watching The Vampire Diaries or One Tree Hill. Seriously, I am okay with this life.
“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “I think you’re being ridiculous.”
“And I love you so much,” I blow her a kiss and make her laugh. “Trust me, you don’t want to deal with me.”
“Still having the nightmares?” I nod my head. “Have you thought about seeing Jean again? She helped you so much and then you stopped seeing her. What’s up with that?”
Jean was my therapist. She was great and helped me a lot, but when she brought up Tyler and pushed me to talk about our relationship and the breakup, I had to stop seeing her. She was pushing too hard and I couldn’t handle it. She’s tried reaching out to me and I’ve ignored every phone call and email.
Thinking about Tyler hurts. Not because we aren’t together, but knowing that if we got back together, he would treat me differently. When I look at him, I don’t see us as a couple. In his eyes, I see myself as a project. I’m broken and he wants to fix me. Only, he doesn’t understand that I d
on’t need him to fix me. I need him to push me and take me out of this funk.
He feels like that night was his fault. That’s one of the reasons why Tyler won’t move and get on with his life. I know he’s been offered positions in California and Chicago, yet he stays in Rochester to be near me. It should make me feel good knowing he’s choosing to stay with me. But is it what he wants? That question stays on my mind. Letting him go, hoping he’d move on with his life and do better things, is my hope. Only it’s not going the way I want.
He’s slowly coming to terms with our friendship. It’s hard for him not to touch me or tell me he loves me the way he used to. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him and I miss him. I think about him all the time and going each day without Tyler is hard. The last time we were together, last Christmas, wasn’t what either of us needed. I remember the day and it stings.
I feel his hand on mine. “I’m going to wait for you.”
“Then you can’t come over anymore, Ty.”
“Why are you doing this? I can’t give up what we have. That’s my whole life, Bay,” he yells, getting up from the couch, pacing the living room. “I don’t give a shit what you think. You are it for me. Don’t you see that?”
“I am doing what I know is best. You’re too overprotective. I can’t breathe around you. Even now, you keep tabs on me and make sure I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry, am I not supposed to do that?”
“No!”
“That’s what people do when they love someone, Bay. They do everything they can to protect them from pain and suffering. I wasn’t there that night to protect you and I know you blame me.”
“How dare you say that?”
“Look into my eyes.” I do as he says. “Tell me you don’t blame me.”
“I don’t blame you, Tyler. It’s not your fault.”
“Then why can’t we be together?”
“Because we can’t.”
“You still think about him a lot?” Mandy asks, breaking me out of my Tyler trance.
“Yeah. Here and there. I guess he’s coming back home soon. That’s what his mom said, so we’ll see what happens.”
“Do you think you’ll hang out?” I shrug and finish my sushi. “You might as well. The both of you are too good of friends, or whatever you are now, to not talk. Ever think maybe, just maybe, it might help you?”
I shrug again. “Of course I do. But I don’t want to hold him back.”
“You should let him make that decision.” She chucks a piece of broccoli at my face.
“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” I laugh, picking up the vegetable and placing it on my plate.
“And yet,” she smiles, “you love me so much. That’s why I’m your best friend.”
She’s right. Mandy’s been my best friend since freshmen year of high school. We cheered together and played lacrosse. She was there for everything and when she was accepted to college in Chicago and I stayed back and attended Fisher, it hurt to say goodbye to my best friend. We stayed in touch and she was there for me when I needed her.
When she moved into her apartment in Webster over by the lake, she begged me to move in. I wanted to, still do. I hate living at home with my parents. With no money and zero job prospects, well I’m sure my parents would have to pay for my part of the rent. I just couldn’t do it.
On top of that, I couldn’t have her go through the night worrying about me. I wake up far too often on account of the nightmares.
Mandy’s phone rings. She reaches into her purse to get it. When she looks at her phone, excitement and giddiness are all over her face.
“Mystery man?” She nods and hurries to message him back. For the past year, she’s been seeing someone and won’t tell me or anyone who it is. Sure it bothers me and I ask her all the time if he’s some kind of serial killer who has warped her mind. Obviously I’ve been watching too much Criminal Minds.
“He wants me to come over tonight and spend time with him.” There’s a hint of sadness to her voice. I’m not sure what’s going on with her. The topic of Mystery Man is touchy. She gets in a sad and funky mood when we talk about him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ugh. Everything about him is a secret. We’ve been dating, or fucking, whatever,” she brushes off her words, “and still nothing. We can’t be seen together and I can’t talk about him.”
“Wait,” I laugh, “Did you sign some type of contract?” She glares at me and looks away. “Holy shit. He’s a dominant right?”
“Shut up! And stop reading your dumb books. He’s not Christian Grey, you twatfacehooch.”
We burst out laughing and quickly change the topic to her Cabo trip, which Mystery Man is paying for. She’s totally dating a Christian Grey.
Later on, when I’m home and in my room, lying in bed with a good book, I come across a scene about the exes getting back together. It’s so intense and he’s telling her the reasons why he loves her. I reach over for tissues and blow my nose. Stupid sweet guy.
Putting down my phone, my eyelids get heavy and within seconds, I’m fast asleep.
I hear my panties rip and his hand touching my body. My body is shaking from fear and I can’t see through the tears rushing from my eyes. He has me on my stomach and he’s gripping my hair. I feel his tongue licking my body and I shudder, trying to pull away, doing everything I can to get away from him.
I can’t see his face. He ties my hands together behind my back and has complete control. No matter what I do, he has me tight in his grips. Eventually I give up and stop fighting.
“Good girl,” he whispers, touching me, invading me, “I can’t wait to feel you.” He violently pushes himself inside me. Screaming and crying only encourages him to inflict more pain and he drives deeper.
“Stop,” I mutter.
I scream in agony and feel arms pulling me up from my bed and into a hard chest.
Tyler.
“You’re okay. I’m here,” he coos, rubbing my back. As soon as I feel his touch, I’m calm and my breathing is steady once again. His scent wraps around me, clean and freshly showered. I love the subtleness of his cologne, Acqua Di Gio.
Pulling away from him, I feel his fingers wiping away my tears. The softness of his touch and the closeness of his body makes me feel like I can breathe. I feel my chest tighten knowing he’s always going to be there, but then the tightness grips my heart and I’m suffocating.
What if one day he’s not here?
When I look up, I see the smile that I love so much. It’s the worst feeling in the world, knowing you love each other and can’t be together. Every touch, every kiss, every time you feel him inside you, every laugh, every smile-those are the moments that you keep and you push away the moments when you felt dead and broken. It’s too painful to be without him. I need to learn how to live on the memories we had, what we were.
“Hi,” I breathe, holding his hand, “sorry you had to see that.” I pause and cock my head to the side, “Wait, what are you doing here?”
“I was at the door when I heard you screaming, so I used my spare key and came inside. I’m sorry if you’re upset I’m here.”
The hesitation in his voice hurts. I try not to flinch. Resting my hand on his knee, I stroke it with my thumb, reassuring him I still need him. “No Ty. I’m not. Thanks for waking me up.” I show him a soothing smile and scoot off my bed. “Let me shower and get ready. Want to get breakfast? I feel like getting crepes.”
“Yeah, sounds like a plan. I’ll wait downstairs for you.”
“Okay.” I watch him leave and head to the bathroom connected to my bedroom. Turning the knob to the faucet, cool water fills the sink. I take a handful of water and splash it on my face, waking me up, and bringing me back to reality.
People say that when bad things happen, we have to let that go and try to move on and live again. They don’t talk about the long road of healing and the nightmares that follow. They don’t talk about how your whole life changes and y
ou become someone you don’t know or love. There’s a healing process and everyone handles trauma in their own way. These people say with time everything will be okay and one day we’ll be strong and be able to move on. I think that those people never experienced what I did. It’s all bullshit. Life is fucking unfair and targets good people who have dreams and goals. Life doesn’t give a shit about you. It’s all a game of tag. Tag, you’re it! Now your life is going to suck and you’re going to be alone.
When I close my eyes, I see his face and smell his breath. His words refuse to leave and are resting inside my head. It plays on and on. It’s a never ending nightmare and I can’t wake up. No matter what I do, no matter whom I talk to, he’s the one I see, feel and hear. I feel his hands grasping my neck and weight against my body.
I pinch my cheeks and force myself to look in the mirror and repeat what I’ve been repeating every day. “It’s okay,” I tell myself, “you’re going to be okay. Every day you’re getting stronger. Even though this is a setback, it doesn’t mean you’re going to fail again.” Pressing my hand on the mirror, I stare at my reflection for a moment longer. “Do you hear me? You are going to be make it through this and you are going to be okay. It takes time and soon all this pain will be worth it.”
Finishing my shower and putting myself together, I walk down the stairs and through the foyer to find a cup of coffee and a single yellow rose sitting on the counter. Lifting the rose to my nose, I take a deep breath and let the fragrance sink in. Looking around, I don’t see Tyler. Grabbing the mug, I walk outside to the deck and see him by the tire swing.
“Hey,” I shout, getting his attention, “thank you for the coffee and rose.” He smiles in response and I sit on the tire swing, waiting for him to push me.