Page 25 of Rewriting the Story

Then, she heads inside, the sliding glass door shutting behind her. When I lean back in my chair and wrap my cardigan around my body, I can’t help but realize she called me by my nickname for the first time since I’ve been back.

A little bit of hope blooms in my chest. I’ve officially made it through one tough conversation with one girl I care about, and I make a note to update my therapist about all this in the morning.

I guess growth and change aren’t so bad after all. Is it terrifying? Yes, but it will be worth it. It has to be.

9

Farsighted by The Band CAMINO

I’mgladourfirstday here was a chill one, because last night, I finally got some sleep. Granted, most of it was on the balcony until I slithered inside as the sun started rising, but getting any sleep is good for me. I’m slowly starting to feel more like myself, or this new and improved version of me.

I’m not quite sure who I am anymore, since all I’ve done is wrestle between two versions of myself—one properly diagnosed, one not. All I know is, I’m trying my best to be someone I can live with every day. I’m not there yet, but hopefully, if I can fix things with the girls, I’llget there.

The group of us are walking to the beach, gearing up for our first full day with the sand in our toes, books in our hands, and the breeze through our hair.

“Is one of you actually going to build a sandcastle with me?” Paige asks, a smile on her face as we walk down the small path.

“Paige, we’ll do whatever you want. These are your wedding festivities, after all,” Hads tells her. “Plus, it’s been a while since I’ve built one, and I am all for healing my inner child on this trip.”

“It’s what all of us deserve after the past few years. And well, all of life, I guess,” Ella says as she shakes off her sandals and leads us toward a solitary part of the beach. The crowds aren't as bad as they are during the height of summer, but there are still a decent number of people here.

It’s been a long time since I’ve set foot on a beach, and part of me feels nostalgic for the life I used to live. My family and I used to go to the beach all the time, and those are some core memories from my childhood. They’re also the only ones I can really remember from way back then. As I got older, they stopped on account of being too busy, but the beach was still my favorite place for solitude and thinking. It was the place I felt most like myself, and now, I wonder what emotions will hit me as the day goes on.

Will I still feel like the mess I’m sorting through, or will I start to remember the girl who used to sit on the beach and journal, wishing for my life to get better?

Nothing hits me as the four of us lay our blankets down and start to set our stuff up. Ella stabs the umbrella into the ground, Paige drops her tote bag, her sand supplies falling out, and Hads puts the cooler on one corner of the blanket so the wind won’t take it away.

“I am so excited!” Paige exclaims. “I never went to the beach when I was a kid, and I will not miss this opportunity to build a freaking sandcastle, no matter how stupid you guys think it is.”

“We don’t think it’s stupid,” I say before anyone else can. “This entire trip is to celebrate you, and if you want to heal your inner child and take back what you lost, then we’ll be right beside you. What part of that is weird? I think it’s sweet.”

She and the rest of the girls can only stare at me for a few seconds, but I swear, Ella has a slight smirk on her face.

“Thanks,” Paige whispers with a grin. “You’re right.”

I smile shyly as I scold myself for not being able to control my own mouth. Still, that felt good—acknowledging Paige how I did. It slipped out so naturally, just like it did when we used to live together during college. Back then, it was so easy for us all to talk to one another—the complete opposite of how it is now.

Everything really has changed, and I hate it. I’m really trying to get better at running toward the people I’m supposed to when I feel like my thoughts are too loud for me to handle, but it’s hard to change something in a few months I’ve done my entire life.

I just need to remind myself a thousand times over that these conversations are worth having—these relationships are worth saving—no matter how scary it is to crack myself open in front of them.

The four of us read in semi-comfortable silence for about an hour before Paige finishes her book and immediately turns to all of us, ready to tell us why we should read it.

“Guys, he was angry and grumpy for everyone else but her, and he was a retired hitman who killed bad people to protect her. It’s the third book of this series, and I definitely recommend it.”

“Well, you know I love anything a little morally questionable, so I’ll add it to my list,” Ella says.

“I’m good,” Hads and I say at the same time before looking at one another in surprise.

“You guys know the darker stuff really isn't my vibe,” Hads reiterates.

“It has always boggled my mind that Paige loves it,” I say, turning my gaze to her. “I remember one time, you burst into my bedroom at like three in the morning to give me the entire rundown of that mafia family you were reading about.”

Her mind searches for the time I’m referencing, and her eyes light up when she finally figures it out. “Oh, yeah! That was the second-generation mafia series I was reading at the time. I remember I made you guys listen to me talk about it at book club.”

“Those were good times,” I say, nostalgia hitting me in the chest over how many times Paige would burst into my room in the early morning hours, knowing I was awake.

Awkward silence covers the group of us before Ella gets up and grabs one of the buckets Paige brought.

---