Page 86 of Never Really Over

I include my parents and how they never cared — they didn’t even send a card for Poppy’s birthday and haven’t called once to check on either of us since the funeral — leaving me feeling abandoned all my life. Which hits me like a ton of bricks because I realize why I was so angry about Layla leaving. My parents never stayed around, and the one person I expected to stay with me forever left, too.

Holy shit.

This actually works!

“How’s it going over there?” Layla asks.

“A little eye opening.”

“Yeah, same here.”

I write down how angry I am about Natalie dying and how nervous I am to raise Poppy because I don’t want to fail her.

Of course, I write about Layla, too, but surprisingly there are only a few things that I’m bothered by enough to include.

She left.

We could have been together all these years.

Neither of those are things I should still be angry about, but that’s why we’re doing this. To let go of all the junk rattling around in our heads.

When we’re both finished, we take our stack to the fire ring and set them on fire.

Standing side by side, we watch as the papers go up in flames.

“How do you feel?” I ask her as we both stare at the fire burning.

“Honestly? A little relieved. I didn’t think it would feel any different, but even just writing everything down made me release junk I was holding onto and to watch it burn is definitely therapeutic.”

“Liberating, isn’t it? I didn’t recognize that I was even holding anything in, but it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“For sure. Is it weird that I like seeing the ashes there, though? It’s symbolic or something. All of our pain turned to dust.”

I drape an arm over her shoulders and tuck her in close. “Not weird. We’ll leave it. They’ll probably blow away at some point, but for now, let’s leave them be. Maybe a bird will take a shit on them to really drive home the symbolism.”

She giggles and wraps her arms around my waist. “That would be even better.”

I love the feel of her body pressed against mine. I’ve missed it. “Should we go inside? Or do you need to get home? I don’t want to keep you out too late on a work night,” I tease, but I’m hoping she stays. At least a little longer. Or forever. Whichever works.

“I can come inside for a bit.”

“Good.”

She keeps my hoodie on as we curl up on the couch after getting a glass of water and using the restroom.

“I’m going to have to tell Missy thank you. I was hesitant to believe it would work.”

“Yeah, when she told me about it I kind of laughed at first, but I could see how serious she was and thought it couldn’t hurt to try. I’m glad we did.”

“Earlier when you said you liked having me here?”

“Mm hmm?” I sidle in a little closer to her and pull her legs over my lap.

“It felt really, really good to hear that because I like being here, too. More than I probably should.”

I rub a hand over her bare leg and she rests her head against the back of the couch.

“Why do you say that?”

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