ray | a narrow beam of light
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5/28/17
MY ROOM IS the same, and yet completely different all at once.
The picture on my nightstand of my mother and I on my fifth birthday is no longer there. My favorite cozy blanket that always resides at the end of my bed, gone. The random clothes strewn about and hanging out of my open dresser drawers, non-existent.
Everything is packed up and in the back of my mother's car, because today is the day we start our drive to Illinois to move me into college. The furniture still remains, but the parts of me that made this room mine are all gone and packed into suitcases and boxes.
With a deep breath I step away from my childhood bedroom and close the door behind me. Shut the door on that part of my life and walk down the stairs towards my mother and the car that will bring me towards my next phase.
"Ready?" My mother's voice rings out from the front door. I take the last couple steps to see her standing there with the car keys spinning on her index finger.
The night of graduation I did speak with my mother. I apologized for being so distant and cold, and vaguely mentioned my break up with Asher. But I still couldn't take that leap and have the talk I know we need to have.
But now I have eighteen hours in a car with her. Nowhere to run and hide.
Our drive starts off quiet with the radio providing the only sound between us as we finally speed onto the highway and head north for over a thousand miles. My head falls back against the headrest as minutes fall to hours and we ride in deep silence. I want to talk to her. I want the air to be cleared between us before I sit in my dorm four states and almost an entire day's drive away.
"Are you okay?" My mother finally breaks the silence as her worried gaze settles on me before falling back to the road ahead.
My body tenses at her question because I don't truly know how to answer it. "Yeah," I breathe out awkwardly.
I see my mother's hands tighten around the steering wheel. "Is it about Asher?" she questions with a slight pause as if she's nervous to bring up his name around me.
My head shakes slightly in response. "No, not really anyways," I trail knowing we are about to head down a path that neither of us is ready for, but at the same time need to move us forward with no more secrets holding us back.
"Then tell me what really happened," she pushes just like she did the night of graduation, but I avoided the topic only telling her that I ended things. Not why. I wanted to live in the shadows a little longer and pretend things are okay between us before we shine the light and expose all the secrets we've been keeping in the dark from each other.
I raise an eyebrow. "You really want to know?" I ask a doubtfully. "You didn't seem to really like the idea of us together anyways," I say letting the truth fall from my lips easily.
Her hands twist around the steering wheel with a pause as the air stills between us. "I just want you to be able to talk to me again," she practically whispers. Even though her words are soft they hit me in the chest so hard my heart aches and I feel breathless as pain slithers through me.
My teeth worry my bottom lip and my hands clench with a nervous energy I don't know how to contain. "I couldn't change him," I say without a second thought. I spill the unfiltered truth.
"What?" she questions, obviously confused by my choice of words.
I wet my lips. "Asher," I clarify. "What we had wasn't healthy, and it wasn't love. It was messy and felt amazing but it was just lust," I explain hating the way memories still attack me when I speak about the boy who broke me and burned me in ways I will never forget. My heart will forever wear the scars he caused.
"So you just ended things?" she asks next as if trying to see the complete picture. But she can't until I shed the light on knowing her dirty little secret.
"I had to end it mom," I tell her, exposing the harsh reality. "I ruined my friendship with Fran because of him. I let him turn me into someone I could barely stand to see in the mirror. I wasn't actually happy, I was lost," I say letting my words break at the end as heat flares in my throat.
I was lost in the beautiful flame of Asher. He made it look so enticing and perfect, but it was damaging and painful. I stupidly thought I would be the exception to the rules. That he would change for me because what we had was so intense.
But I wasn't an exception. I was a casualty, and I know there will be more after me.
My mother sniffles as if she's trying to keep tears at bay. "Mae," she chokes out my name.
"Mom, are you okay?" I ask instantly as worry strikes me and sizzles throughout my veins.
Tears shine in her eyes as she turns to look at me for a moment before she's forced to look back to the long stretch of road before us. "You amaze me," she says with astonishment clear in her voice. "You're stronger than I ever could be," she adds before lifting a hand to wipe at a stray tear.
"Mom—" I start but she cuts me off.
"I'm sorry," she tells me with a shake of her head as if she's embarrassed by her emotions. "It's just...I...it's hard—"
"I know," I blurt out now being the one to cut her off. I can't help myself.
She lets out a dry chuckle, as I can't begin to comprehend her words. "No, you don't understand," she trails with a deep sigh. A part of me wants to back off, and not say anything more because I can see she truly believes I have no idea what's going on in her life.
But I'm tired. Tired of all the lies, and of tiptoeing around the subject with her and pretending I don't see her take her secret phone calls or disappear for long periods of time.
So I take the leap and jump without another thought. "Yes, I do," I tell her, refusing to drop my steadied gaze. "I know," I emphasize to show her how serious I am.
She pauses, and the car even slows some as she sits next to me in absolute shock. Her eyes stay trained on the black pavement before us as if she can't bring herself to look at me. "How?" The one worded question is barely audible as if she's afraid to ask as well as hear my answer.
As if this is the moment she most dreaded in life.
But I don't back down. The walls are down and we are burned and exposed. I have to tell her everything. "I saw you," I confess.
Her breath catches in her throat. "Where?"
I drop my head as my eyes land on my hands. They are trembling faintly as a bolt of fear hits my chest. What if we can't recover from this? But I know even with the fear jolting me it's needed. It scares me because it won't be easy. Our entire relationship is going to change after this conversation, and I just have to come to terms with that. I have to believe we will have the strength to move past this.
"I stayed the night at Asher's and heard a noise and when I opened the door I saw you kiss his father before sneaking out." The words come out stilted and uncomfortable as I admit the truth.
My head rises to see one of her hands fly to her lips at my confession. "Oh god Mae," she breathes with tears now openly streaming down her cheeks. "I have no words. I'm so sorry you saw that," she tells me with pain filling her face and shame evident in her tone.
I don't plan the next question. It simply falls out of my lips before I can stop it. "Are you sorry you did it?" I ask. "Are you sorry you're still doing it?" I push, and I know this may come out harsh but I need to know. I need to know she isn't so far gone that she doesn't regret her actions.
My mother hastily wipes at the tears on her cheeks before they stain with a pink flush. "You're young and there are things you don't understand yet," she tells me pointedly as her knuckles turn white from her grip on the steering wheel.
I scoff. "I'm not that young," I tell her. "And I know he will never leave his wife for you. I know that you are only one of many that have come before you, and I know you can't change him even when it seems like you can." My words come out in a rush as tears prick my eyes but I never let them waver from my mother.
She shakes her head forcefully. "You don't know what you're talking about," she says though her words come out strained and on the edge of uncertainty.
My head tilts as grief weighs on my chest. "I heard it from Asher himself," I divulge. "He told me about the women before you and he told me there will be ones after you. His wife is his constant mom, and you're not." The words burn as they come out and honestly hurt me to say because there's nothing more my mother deserves than someone to share her life with.
A sob wrecks her body and escapes her lips. "I didn't mean for it to happen," she admits in an unsteady breath as if I don't already know that. As if she needs to prove anything to me. Asher may not have been married and we may have only been teenagers, but in many ways our relationship mirrors my mother's with his father. It was dark, and dirty, and hurt the ones around me I loved the most.
"I know," I tell her soothingly.
She hiccups as she takes a few deep breaths to calm herself down. "I was out downtown and ran into him and one thing lead to another—"
But I don't let her finish. I physically can't so I cut her off. "I don't want to know how it started," I tell her truthfully. "I want to know you'll end it," I voice strongly.
She pauses as if she's trying to find the right words. "I want to and I've tried and I..." she trails off. "It's not that easy," she finally ends on, and I can see every part of her wants to fall apart, but even now she's attempting to keep it together. In the midst of pain she's trying to be strong for me. Because that's who she is, but she doesn't realize that I know she's strong. She showed it to me every single day raising me. And while I will never condone her actions, I also know how persuasive the Asher men are and how easily it can be to get tangled into their web until they're all you see.
"No, it's not," I agree with her. "But you deserve better than how he treats you. You deserve better than being a mistress. You taught me to deserve better," I say my words thick with unbridled emotion.
She takes a deep breath, and the tears may have dried up but the stains remain on her cheeks. "I know I've let you down," she tells me, her tone evident with the disgust in herself.
I don't lie. "Yeah," I murmur. She did disappoint me, which is why it took me so long to even start this conversation. Because admitting aloud her faults make them real, and she's always been a superhero in my eyes. "But I also got caught up in someone so much I was willing to hurt the ones around me. I understand you and I understand a Lawton man," I say with a half shrug before I reach out to her fallen hand and wrap mine around it with a squeeze.
She twists her neck to look directly at me. "I'm so sorry," she says her words broken and filled with heady pain and sorrow.
I hold on tightly to her hand. "Don't be sorry," I say shaking my head. "Do something about it," I urge her strongly.
I had to step up and do something about my situation before it tore apart my entire life and left me with only shreds and remnants of my past.
I had to learn from Asher, which is why I will never regret him. My actions? Yes. Those will always haunt me. But I can never regret what my time with Asher taught me.
He was the fire that burned my life down and ruined my relationship with my best friend, but in those flickering flames that quickly turned to ashes I was reborn. I was healed. I was able to find my voice, myself. Even whom I want.
I was able to grow and rise almost like a Phoenix.
It's not pretty or easy and it all still weighs heavily on my heart. I have a feeling that a piece of it will always remain there as a reminder so I never forget. The lesson I learned was one that has shaped me and changed me and taught me more about myself, and I hate that it hurt so much.
That it still hurts.
But I'm the wiser for it. I am stronger for it.
Time passes rolls by as my mother and I sit in deafening silence, but as the hours roll by our hands never unlink. We hold on to each other as if my mother is taking in my strength and I'm showing her my unconditional love.
We sit like this as miles and miles go by and as the sun begins to settle behind the trees.
"I have to ask," she finally speaks popping our bubble of silence. "So what about you and Brooks?" she asks as if this question has been at the forefront of her mind for a while now.
I turn my attention from the window. "What about us?" I reply confused by her words.
"You got really close the last month," she explains softly into the quiet air.
My teeth chew on the inside on my cheek unsure of how to answer. "We're just friends," I say with a shrug. Though I know it's not the full truth, but at the same time it is.
We are only friends. Nothing has happened since our talk after graduation. But in another way we are far from only being friends. I don't look at him the way a friend looks at another. I don't think about him in the way a friend thinks about another. I dream about his hands, his lips, and his body.
We talk for hours and I never get tired of him. He knows everything about me and doesn't shy away from the dark or scary bits. He wants to know, he wants to learn, and he wants to grow with me.
Being with him, even in the context of just friends, is like leaving the house after being stuck inside for weeks on end. It's refreshing and suddenly you're seeing the world in a completely new way and with new eyes.
A new beginning.
"Okay," she drawls as if not convinced by my words.
"What?" I inquire as my eyebrows draw together.
A small smile lifts my mother's lips. "He's just someone I always thought you'd end up with," she tells me wistfully.
I want to say more, but I don't because a part of me still worries that Brooklyn and I will never find the right timing. For the next four years we will now be hundreds of miles apart, and I know they say distance makes the heart grow fonder. But it can also change everything.
So I simply say the two words he's told me every single day since graduation when he would hold me tight in his strong arms and kiss my blushing cheek. Words he whispered with unwavering promise.
"One day."