Page 23 of Rewriting the Story

Leo: Welcome back is more like it.

8

Now

Older by Lizzy McAlpine

AfterItossandturn for what feels like the fortieth time, I decide to get out of bed because, like always, sleep never seems to come naturally to me. I don’t know why I thought it would be easier after dinner, or maybe I thought the weight of seeing my friends and all the anxiety from today would make me crash. It didn't work, and now, I can’t sleep.

I get out of bed and head for the small kitchen area. The girls bought a bunch of snacks and drinks, since we’ll be in this room for two weeks, and I could not be more thankful. I tiptoe through the suite, and when I reach the cupboards, I pull out a mug and end up findingsome hot chocolate mix. Before I head outside, I grab a bag of my favorite kind of chips to keep my hands busy.

I’m sure Ella bought all this for me. Even though our relationship is still strained, that's who she is as a person. Once she knows all your favorite things, she’ll always remember them. As much as she probably hates that I’m here, I appreciate the gesture.

I throw my cardigan on and step outside onto the balcony, parking myself in one of the lounge chairs. I’ve always been a bit too attached to the beach and the ocean. I grew up going to the beach during the summers. Sometimes, I would bring my journal to the beach and have a picnic by myself. Any time I was going through a rough patch, I found myself sitting and listening to the waves that felt as aggressive and loud as my mind did. It was comforting, knowing something as simple as water was able to emulate the emotions in my brain.

Most of the time, it was me and the sand, me and the water. I enjoy the quiet a little too much as someone who lives in a state of constant noise, whether in my head or outside of it. In the state of constant exhaustion I’m always in, the quiet is a nice break. My medication helps to keep my thoughts more uniform, but it’s not a total cure.

So, as I sit on this balcony and listen to the sounds of the waves in the distance, I’m jolted back to that time when I used to sit and stare at the water, wondering why I was so different.

When I think about the days I’ve had since those lonesome ones I spent at the beach, I can’t help but smile. I’ve seen the world. I’ve seen a lot of the country I live in. I’ve lived on my own and supported myself. I’ve hit rock bottom and crawled my way out with the help of my therapist. The moments that often replay in my mind are ones from that little classroom back on campus at Grand Mountain.

Those moments hold the most meaning for me. In that classroom freshman year, for the first time, I was accepted for who I was, noquestions asked. Now, I’m back with these girls,mygirls, and I have so many pieces to patch up before we get back to what we were.

For the last few months, when I came out of the hole I was stuck in, the mistakes I made all hit me in the face at the same time. For a few weeks, I could barely move forward. Every day, my mind was reminding me I was failing—at life, at being a friend, a daughter, a human. I could barely get out of bed. I was not functioning well at all.

Then, I learned to give myself some grace amidst all the change, but it didn't happen overnight. I’m still struggling with it, and my mind is not the nicest place to be sometimes.

It feels as if I’ll never stop blaming myself for all of this—the distance, the awkwardness, all of it. Even if we get back to where we used to be, I’ll still carry the weight of what I’ve done. I’m sure of it.

“Can’t sleep?”

The voice startles me, and when I look up to see Ella leaning against the sliding door, I set my hot chocolate down.

“No, but now I definitely won’t be sleeping, since you scared the crap out of me,” I joke.

She doesn't say a word to me as she closes the door, steals my bag of chips that I haven't opened, and sits on the end of my lounge chair. She continues to say nothing as she opens the bag and eats a few.

“Aren’t you cold?” I ask her, noting she’s only wearing a satin two-piece pajama set and fuzzy socks. Her natural curly hair is up in a messy bun, the loose strands blowing in the breeze.

“I’m alright,” is all she says, not looking at me but out at the water. It’s a beautiful night, but the wind keeps giving me goosebumps. “I’m actually glad I woke up and saw you out here.”

Her words surprise me. “Really?”

She nods. “I wanted to make a few things clear to you before we jump into all these festivities.”

I should have known this was coming. Not only is Ella fiercely protective of her friends, but this is Paige’s wedding, and I’m sure she wants it to go as smoothly as possible. Paige deserves it. After all she’s been through, we deserve to do what we can to make these two weeks perfect for her. I’m a hitch in those plans, and I can understand why she wants to talk to me.

“Go ahead,” I tell her.

“We are not ruining this for Paige. Not only did she and Hads work hard to plan all these activities, but this is her wedding, for fuck’s sake.”

“I know, Ells,” I remind her. “It’s not my intention to do anything to make this time feel any less special. Paige deserves better.”

“Yeah, she does. She deserves a better friend than you’ve been; hell, we all deserve a better friend than you’ve been. You disappeared, Amelia, and now you’re back, and it’s throwing us all for a loop.”

I deserved that. “I know—”

“I’m not done,” she says, her voice low. “There’s no secret there’s distance between us and you. That couldn't be more obvious, but we’re grown women, and we all need to take accountability for our actions. Part of me is glad you’re back, but the other part of me is screaming you’re going to disappear again after this. You still feel like a ghost to us, even though you’re sitting right in front of me.”

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