Page 78 of Beneath the Stain
“Not really,” Mackey admitted, his voice clogged. “Just read it.”
Dear Grant,
I’m pissed. I’m really pissed. For most of my life, you were what love was all about, and you just ripped that away from me like skin. I try not to hate you, though, because it couldn’t have been any easier for you than it was for me. We both had shit we had to do, responsibilities that about crushed us after we split up. I hope your baby girl gives you joy. I hope you find it in you to love your wife. It’s taken me a fuckton of drugs and nameless men and pain to realize you were not the end-all and be-all of my life. But someday I will be over you, and I’ll be able to forgive you, and I’ll be able to go home and see your baby girl and not be mad.
I’m in rehab right now, and that’s my promise to myself. Someday, I’ll be able to do that. I think that’s when I’ll know that I’ve found peace.
I really loved you,
Mackey
Trav had to breathe slow and easy through that one. It was about as honest as a breakup letter got. It was a pure, unfiltered glimpse into Mackey James Sanders’s heart, and it was battered and bloody and still a little broken.
But healing.
Trav felt selfish, hoping there was enough of it left for him. Selfish, childish, all sorts of terrible things, because he wished he had a letter too.
He turned the page, though, and was still a little startled to see his own eyes looking back at him.
Underneath the sketch was the song.
I’m here
You thought you’d drive us crazy
All rules and lists and things to do
But that wasn’t the kind of crazy
That I got about you.
You looked at us and saw a mess
And put us back in order.
You looked at me and saw a mess
And instead of making me all pretty
You told me how to fix it.
You looked at me and saw me
And you saw I was still good.
And just that moment I thought
That I was born to scream and disappear
I realized that I’m still here.
So here we are in places freshly cleaned
Made neat with folded clothes
A roof a yard a picket fence
And privacy we’ve never known.
