Текст книги "The Redemption of Callie and Kayden"

Автор книги: Jessica Sorensen

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 16

#15 Stop torturing yourself

Callie

I’m afraid to go home and face my mother, even with Kayden

at my side. Halfway there I turn on my phone to find that I have

thirty-seven new voicemails and fifty-eight text messages. All are

from her and it’s unbelievable and yet believable at the same time.

She’s never been good at handling things that don’t fit into her

world. And rebel-runaway Callie fits about as well as lone-Goth

Callie did.

“We could get a hotel room,” Seth suggests as we pull into

town. “And keep the vacation going.”

“Or at least avoid going home,” Luke mutters, grumpily.

It’s late, the trees in the park are flashing with lively red

twinkly lights, and there’s a huge inflatable Santa at the entrance

welcoming us to town. Kayden has been really quiet the entire

drive, staring out the window, lost in his thoughts and it makes me

sad. Luke has been silent too, chain smoking the entire drive and

Seth has been equally as bad.

I glance at Kayden, wondering what he thinks of the hotel

idea, but all he does is stare out the window. “I feel like if I go to hotel then I’m running away from my problems,” I say. “I should

probably go home and face the wrath of my mom.”

“Why?” Seth asks, surprising me. I gape at him as smoke

snakes from his lips and he takes out the cigarette and sticks his

hand out the window, scattering ash into the street as he grazes

his thumb across the end. “Callie, I hate to say this”—his brown

eyes flick to Luke, then to Kayden, before he leans in and

whispers—“but until you can tell your mom, and you-know-who

will officially no longer be showing up at your house, it might be

good for you to stay away from there. Stop torturing yourself.”

I press my lips together as he leans back. “I’m don’t torture

myself,” I mumble.

“You don’t?” Seth flicks his cigarette out the window and

then rolls it up. Luke’s truck is really old and doesn’t have

automatic windows so Seth’s arm fights against the tension in the

handle.

Kayden glances at me with a frown on his face. “Seth’s right,”

he agrees quietly.

I think about all the times I spent wishing I could just shrink

into a ball, maybe become invisible, maybe disappear altogether.

But if I could have just broken Caleb’s hold over me, maybe I

would have escaped from the tortuous years I spent locked away,

living inside myself. Could I do it? Just free myself? Do I have that kind of power? I really don’t have to go back unless I want to. I can go back when I’m ready to confess. “All right, let’s get a hotel

room.” It’s such a simple conclusion, yet it took me forever to get

to it.

I don’t have to go back home until I’m ready. I have choices,

power, freedom. I can sever the ties with the things that hurt me.

You can do this. I can do anything if I want to. I just have to choose to do it. Suddenly, I can breathe freely again. I’m smiling and Seth

and Luke are looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

Kayden glances at me, a forced grin at his lips. “Sounds

good.”

I offer him a smile, wondering why he’s acting so upset.

Everything had been okay when we left the beach house, at least I

thought so. I lean into him and whisper, “Are you okay?”

He nods, giving me a puzzled look. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I

be?”

“I don’t know,” I say, eyeing the sadness in his eyes. “You

look sad.”

“Well, I’m not. I promise.” He returns his attention to the

window and my heart sinks in my chest, knowing there’s

something he’s not telling me. But I don’t want to press him in

front of Luke and Seth, so I keep quiet.

Ten minutes later we’re checked into a motel room with two

queen-size beds, a retro décor, and air smelling of mildew. Seth

and Luke start arguing about the sleeping arrangement and I take

the opportunity to talk to Kayden about what’s bothering him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, sinking down on the bed

beside him.

He nods, fiddling with the remote, even though the

television isn’t on. “Yeah, I’m fine. I already told you that.”

“But you’ve been so quiet,” I say. “You’ve barely said a word

since we left California.”

“I’m just tired.” He drops the remote down on the nightstand

and stares out the window. He does look really exhausted, but I

don’t think that’s the real reason. Like he senses my doubts, he

places his hand on my knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Callie,

stop worrying. I’m okay.”

“Okay,” I say quietly and then get up from the bed to use the

restroom. I lock the door and sit down on the edge of the bathtub.

I don’t really have to use the bathroom; I just needed to gather

myself. The urge to make myself throw up is rising inside me and I

really want to give into it, because it’s been a while and I’m really stressed out about Kayden and about telling my mom. I start

bouncing my knees as I breathe through my nose and count to

ten, reminding myself that I’m strong. That I can live life without

making myself purge.

It takes me a while, but about ten minutes later, I calm down

and walk out of the bathroom, surprised to find Luke on one bed

and Seth on the other watching television and Kayden is nowhere

to be seen.

“Where’d Kayden go?” I ask, walking between the two beds.

They both look up at me, blinking their eyes, and then they

gaze around the room. Seth sits up with his brows furrowed. “Huh?

I didn’t hear him leave.”

Luke yawns. “He went to get his bag out of the back of the

truck,” he tells me. “But he’s been out there for a few minutes.”

Panic surges through me as I round the foot of the bed and

draw back the curtain. The neon VACANT sign lights up the

parking lot where the truck is parked down below, snow falling on

the hood and roof. I can’t see Kayden anywhere, but I tell myself

he has to be coming up the stairs, which are out of my view.

Slipping on my shoes, I run out the door.

“Callie, what the hell?” I hear Seth call out as I leave the door

wide open. I don’t turn back, racing to the bottom of the stairway

and out into the parking lot. When I reach Luke’s truck, Kayden

isn’t there. I search the parking lot and even walk over to the

lobby, wondering if maybe he went to raid the vending machines,

but I can’t find him anywhere. My mind is racing with a thousand

thoughts of what’s going on. Where would he go? Why would he

leave? Why did he look so sad?

By the time I’m headed back to the stairway, Seth and Luke

are walking down it. I’m about in tears, frozen without a jacket on.

“He’s gone,” I sputter.

They meet me at the bottom of the steps and Luke’s

forehead creases as he stares at his truck. “What do you mean he’s

gone?”

“I searched everywhere.” I wrap my arms around myself,

shivering from the cold and my nerves. “I can’t find him.”

Seth’s arms encircle me. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he just

went for a walk.”

“It’s almost ten thirty at night and freezing,” I say. “There’s

nowhere to walk to.”

“Maybe he walked to a gas station to get something to eat.”

Even he sounds like he doesn’t believe it. “I thought I saw one a

few roads up.”

“Hang on a second,” Luke says as he removes his phone

from his back pocket. “I’ll call him and see if I can get him to

answer and see what’s up.” He dials the number, puts the phone

up to his ear, and wanders away toward his truck, leaving

footprints in the snow.

Seth hugs me as I watch Luke kick at the snow with one arm

resting across his stomach. He keeps walking and walking farther

away from the motel. My legs grow weak and finally I have to sit

down on the stairs.

Seth sits with me. “I’m sure everything’s okay.”

I shake my head. “He seemed so upset the whole drive. I

think something was really bothering him.” I pull my knees to my

chest and rest my chin on top of them. What if he’s going to do

something… something hurtful to himself?

I slide my phone out of my pocket and try to call him myself.

The phone rings four times and then goes to his voicemail. I hang

up and send him a text.

Me: Hey, where r u… I’m worried. You just took off.

I wait, but there’s no response. I suck back the tears

frantically wanting to escape, wishing I could curl into a ball and

cry myself to sleep. I hurt everywhere. And I’m afraid. Not for

myself but for Kayden and what he’s doing. I can’t get the picture

of him trying to cut himself out of my head. What if he ends up

hurting himself really badly?

Finally, Luke heads back toward us with a puzzled look on his

face. Right before he reaches us, my phone beeps.

Kayden: I’m ok.

He’s okay?

Me: Where R U?

“I got ahold of him,” Luke says as my phone beeps again. “He

said to tell you that he’s okay, but that there’s something he needs

to take care of.”

I glance down at the screen, trying to hold the phone steady

in my shaking hand.

Kayden: There’s someone I need to talk to and it can’t

wait… with my therapist… Look, I’ll explain everything later.

I’ll come back and then we’ll talk. And Callie, I promise I’m OK.

I don’t understand. My hands tremble as I type.

Callie: I thought I was going to go with you… and it’s

late. The office isn’t even open.

When he doesn’t respond, I don’t know what to think. Is he

really seeing him? Or is he lying?

I stand up, brushing the snow off the back of my jeans. “We

should go look for him.”

Luke shakes his head, squeezing by us and heading up the

stairs. “Callie, I’m sure he’s okay… and he’ll said he be back soon so I think we should just wait here for him.”

I glance at Seth, wondering what I should do. Sighing, he

swings his arm around me and leads me up the stairs. “I’m sure

he’s fine,” he says quietly.

I clutch onto him, hoping with everything I have that he’s

right.

Kayden

I am obsessed about telling the truth and finally having my

secrets out in the open the entire drive home. The longer I thought

about it, the more anxious I got until I felt like I was going to burst.

I’d spent my whole life holding my emotions and secrets in and

suddenly I needed to get them all out. Now.

Even though it was late, I knew if I lay down on that bed,

closed my eyes, and went to sleep, my mind would probably

change by morning. It was just one of those things where if I’d sat

on it, I’d talk myself out of it. So as soon as Callie went into the

bathroom, I slipped out of the room, muttering something about

getting my suitcase out of the back of the truck.

I knew she’d be upset that I took off without saying anything,

but I had to do it; otherwise she’d look at me with those sad puppy

eyes, wanting to go with me, like we talked about, and I’d have a

hard time saying no. Despite the fact that I told her we’d do this

together, I realized on the way home that it’s something I need to

do on my own. Otherwise I’d hold back, and I want—no need to let

it out. All of it.

I walk out of the room and run over to the park just a few

blocks down, and then I stop and take out my phone and the card

Doug gave me. When he gave me the card he said I could call him

anytime and I hope he meant it.

It’s late and colder than hell, the air stinging at my skin like

needles. I let the phone ring, walking back and forth across the

sidewalk, thinking about what this means. For as long as I can

remember, it’s always been about doing what my father wanted,

with sports, with rules, with life. I’d always felt this obligation to go back to that house, no matter what. I don’t know why and maybe I

never will. But I’m hoping this is the first step to cutting the ties with that God damn house that’s haunted by nothing but terrible

memories and the soulless monster who put them there.

It’s gratifying to think about.

I’m about to hang up after the phone rings for the fifth time,

but then someone says, “Hello.”

“Umm…” I can’t tell if it’s him or not. “This is Kayden… Is this

Doug?”

“Oh, yes, Kayden.” There’s some ruffling in the background

followed by some voices. Then it goes quiet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, well, no.” I’m struggling and it feels like someone has

their hands around my neck. But I mentally pry them off, shutting

my eyes and picturing Callie. “I know it’s late, but I need to talk

about what happened that night.”

There’s a pause. “The office is closed but I can meet you at

Larry’s twenty-four-hour diner in about half an hour.”

I take a deep breath and the cold air sends relief to my lungs.

“All right.”

We hang up and just like that I’m heading toward the

starting line of my recovery.

The diner is not too far away and I choose to walk there even

though I’m frozen and my fingers are turning blue. I get there

earlier than Doug and order a cup of coffee. It’s late enough that

no one’s there except a few guys with trucker hats and grease on

their jeans and the cook and waitress. I select a corner booth away

from them, the counter, the kitchen. I don’t want anyone else

hearing what I’m going to say—it’ll be hard enough getting the

words out of my mouth.

I start flicking the rubber band, wishing Callie were here

holding my hand, just like we’d planned, but I know it’s better

being solo and leaving her out of this mess. The waitress is

bringing me coffee when the bell on the front door rings. An icy

breeze sweeps through as Doug walks inside, but it’s okay. It kind

of makes it all real and forces me to feel everything.

I rest my arms on the table as he heads over and I stab my

fingernails into the tops of my forearms. He has on a jacket and a

pair of jeans, along with a beanie. It’s a little out of character for him, since I’m used to seeing him in suits, but then again it’s

eleven o’clock at night.

“Hello, Kayden,” he says in an exhausted voice as he lowers

himself into the booth across from me, taking his beanie off. His

thinning hair stands up in every direction.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” I tell him and take a sip of

coffee, feeling the burn all the way down to my stomach. “I was

just worried that if I didn’t call… that I’d back out or something.”

“I’m glad you woke me up,” he replies and slips his arms out

of his jacket. “It’s better not to wait on these things.”

I wonder what he’ll say when I tell him everything. I set the

cup down and fold my arms on top of the table, returning my

fingernails to my skin. “You were right,” I hurry and say before I

pussy out. My fingernails burrow farther into my skin and split

sections open. Blood trickles out.

“About what?” he asks, but I think he really knows. He eyes

the blood on my arm but doesn’t say a word about it.

I flex my fingers and take in the bloody, crescent-shaped

marks on my arms. “About what happened that night.”

He crosses his arms on top of the table. “I don’t recall ever

saying what happened that night.”

“Yeah, but you… you thought that my father…” God, this is so

fucking hard. Why is it so hard? My dad’s a fucking dick. He beat

me all those years. Just say it. “He’s the one who hurt me that

night. Well, I mean I did stuff to myself too, but he…” I sound like a fucking kid. I tuck my fingernails into my palms, stabbing them

into my skin. Every part of my body wants to escape, be alone, find

something sharp and bleed the pain out of me. But I keep

reminding myself Callie, Callie, Callie. “He stabbed me. That’s

where the cut on my side came from. He was pissed off because I’d

got in a fight with Caleb and he had to pick me up from jail and

everyone knew. So he took me home and started hitting me, which

he’s done a lot. But I hit him back, which I’d never done before.

And then things got out of hand. We knocked some knives onto

the floor and the next thing I knew he’d stabbed one into me. I’m

not even sure if he meant to do it or if it happened by accident.”

The words pour out of me like blood, and with each breath I take,

my lungs start expanding wider and more powerfully. I feel like I’m

free for the first time in my life. Free from my childhood. Free from my scars. Free from the cuts, the bruises, the razors, the pain.

By the time I’m finished, I’ve stopped clenching my fists and

my fingers are stretched out in front of me. I wait for Doug to say

something, but instead he flags down a waitress with his hand.

She’s a middle-aged woman with blonde hair braided at the

back of her head. She’s wearing a bright blue dress and a white

apron. In her hand are a pen and an order book. “What can I get ya

two lovely gentlemen tonight?” she asks, poising her pen over the

notebook.

“I’ll have some pancakes, toast with strawberry jam, and a tall

cup of milk,” Doug says and looks at me with a small smile.

“Kayden, go ahead and order whatever you want. And make sure

it’s enough to get you through the next few hours.”

“The next few hours?” I question. “Is that really necessary?”

He nods. “Yeah, I want you to tell me everything that

happened.”

“Everything?” It’s an unfathomable, unreachable idea to me.

“Like what? You want me to pour my fucking heart and soul out to

you.”

The waitress frowns at my language and also probably

because the conversation has headed in a strange direction. I

wonder who she thinks we are. And why we’re here. I’m kind of

wondering the same thing myself.

“Everything. I want you to start from the beginning,” he says

and sets a menu down in front of me, giving it a tap with his finger.

I order a large stack of pancakes, bacon, and toast and the

waitress smiles before walking away. I say nothing at first, fidgeting with the salt and pepper shakers to keep myself from scratching at

my skin. I keep waiting and waiting for Doug to speak, but he just

sits there silently, watching a television over my shoulder.

The silence eventually rips my sanity open and I trace the

cracks in the table. “How far do you want me to go back?”

“Back to the very first time your father hurt you,” he speaks

calmly, looking away from the television to me.

My lungs expand as I inhale, preparing myself for what I’m

about to do. “That was about fifteen years ago. You really want me

to go all the way back?”

He has this comforting smile on his face. One I’ve never seen

on any of the adults I’ve known. “I want you to tell me everything.

Don’t hold back. Let it all out.”

I open my mouth, knowing that when I let it out everything

will change. And I pray to God it’s a good change.

Callie

Seth and I are getting ready for bed, not saying much to

each other, and Luke walked out to smoke and fill up the ice

bucket. It’s been about an hour since Kayden took off and I can’t

stop thinking about him and what he’s doing; if he’s really talking

to his therapist like he said, and if so, if it’s going well.

Seth walks out of the bathroom as I’m getting underneath

the covers. He’s wearing green and navy blue plaid pajama

bottoms and a white T-shirt, and he’s brushing his teeth.

For a second he just watches me. “I called Greyson,” he

announces, his voice a little jumbled because he has a mouthful of

toothpaste.

I fluff the lumpy pillow and then turn on my side. “Did you

work everything out?” From under the blanket, I cross all my

fingers, hoping he did.

He nods, returning to the bathroom to spit out the

toothpaste. He rinses his toothbrush off, sets it on the counter, and then climbs into bed with me. He rolls to the side, turns the

television on, and clicks the lamp off.

“I told him I loved him,” he says inaudibility and it takes a

minute for his words to register inside my head.

“You love him? You never told me that?”

“I do. Like a lot.”

I uncross my fingers. “And what did he say?”

“I love you too,” he says and I hear the smile through his

voice. He’s happy, which makes me happy even under the

circumstances.

I’m a little envious of him, for being able to say the truth and

put himself unconditionally out there to someone. “Seth… I’m

really happy for you.”

Laughter flows from him. “I’m really happy for me too.”

The room stills and a little while later Luke walks in and

climbs into bed. It makes me a little uneasy with him sleeping in

the same room as me, but it’s not as bad as I thought when they

first mentioned sharing a room—to split the costs—back when we

were in the truck.

I toss and turn for another hour or so. The clock is glowing

against the darkness and snowflakes start to strike the window.

The heater is clanking and there’s banging coming from the room

next door. I can hear Seth’s loud breathing—I can hear everything.

It’s almost one o’clock in the morning when I decide it’s time to

face one of my fears. I’m not even sure what brings me to the

conclusion. Maybe it’s Seth’s bravery or maybe it’s that I really

need to get it off my chest. I’ve been placing too much on it

already and perhaps it’s time to clear the pressure completely.

I’m going to tell Kayden how I feel. Because he deserves to

know that someone loves him, even if he doesn’t love me back. I

grab my phone and notebook from the nightstand and tiptoe over

to the bathroom. Flipping the lights on and then shutting the door,

I dial his number and open my notebook to his letter. It goes

straight to his voicemail like it has the last few times I called him. I take a deep breath and begin reading out loud what I feel,

admitting the truth and putting myself out there, even though it

terrifies me.

Maybe, if I’m lucky, this step will help me get to the next

admission in my future.

Kayden

Doug and I are still at the diner when the sun starts to

ascend from behind the snowy mountains. The waitress starts

pulling the shades down on the windows as the sunlight shines

into the restaurant. She flips off the neon signs both inside and

out, preparing for another morning.

I sit across from Doug, finishing up a very long story,

preparing myself to leave the comfort of the table. I haven’t told

him nearly everything, especially the darkest times that are locked

deep away in the back of my head, the one’s I won’t let myself

think about. Doug said that’s okay and that I have time. It baffles

me. I’d never really thought about my time. I took things day by

day and was basically living the life my father wanted me to live.

Halfway through, when I’m telling him about how my father

choked me until I passed out, I started to cry.

He’d done it because I’d lost the remote. After hours of

searching, I’d finally given up. And I was never supposed to give

up. I didn’t even fight him. He just started yelling and I stared at

him, which seemed to piss him off only more. His face was bright

red and he was screaming and then running at me. And I just

stood there as he tackled me and wrapped his arms around my

neck.

I remember looking up at him and thinking, Please just kill

me so it’ll be over. And when I woke up from my blackout, I found

myself slightly disappointed.

“So what’s next?” I ask, after Doug pays the bill, trying to

wipe my eyes off on my sleeves as discreetly as possible.

He puts his wallet back into his jacket and slides the empty

plates aside. “That’s really up to you.”

I pile my fork and spoon onto the stack of plates, and then I

stare at the healing crescent-shaped wounds on my arms with

blood dried over them. “This therapist in Laramie that you know, is

he… is he as understanding as you?” I don’t like the idea of

opening up to anyone else.

“He might even be better.” Doug smiles. “But Kayden, you

can call me whenever you want. And be sure to come to your

appointment next week.”

I nod, scooting to the edge of the booth. “All right.”

Doug tosses a few ones down on the table. “Kayden, I feel

like I have to say one more thing… about your father.”

I wince. Over the last several hours I’d said a lot of terrible

thing about my father and even though I wish it weren’t that way,

feelings of guilt and betrayal lie within me. Maybe one day,

though, they’ll be gone. “What?”

He takes his time answering. “I think you should consider

pressing charges against him. What he did to you that night…

there’s a lot you can do to him.”

I shake my head. “I can’t… especially since I might be getting

charges pressed against me.”

“You don’t have to do it now,” he assures me. “There’s a

somewhat lengthy time frame for these things… Maybe it’s

something we can talk about next week. If you feel up to it. But

that’s the key here. I don’t want to push you until you’re ready.”

Press charges against my father? I want to. The idea of

throwing him out to the world is fucking appealing. But every grain

of fear that’s ever been inside me rises. “Okay, we can talk about it next week.”

He nods and then gets up from the booth. I follow him

outside, zipping up my jacket and tugging my hood over my head.

I sling my bag over my shoulder as he gets into his car and drives

away. I stand beneath the shelter of the carport watching the

sunrise and the sky shift to a bright pinkish orange. It’s blinding to look at but I can’t seem to turn away. I keep staring at it until I see spots and then slide my hand into my pocket to call Luke, figuring

I’ll skip the cold, numbing walk in exchange for a car ride. I turn on my phone and instantly feel like an ass. Callie has called and texted multiple times, asking if I’m okay. I’ve been gone all night and

she’s probably worried sick.

My voicemail light is flashing so I dial into it and hold my

breath, fearing what she has to say, fearing she’ll say it’s over and realizing that I don’t want it to be over, a feeling that amplifies at the first sound of her voice.

Kayden…

So Seth thought it would be a good idea for me to write

everything that I’m feeling down and please, pretty please, keep in

mind that I wrote this before the beach, but I’m sure I still feel the same way.

She takes a deep breath and it sounds like she’s about to cry.

Before I met you, I was kind of a mess. Even though Seth had

brought me out of my shell, I still felt so ugly on the inside and

outside… so broken… so ashamed I guess. Sometimes the pain was

so bad that I couldn’t take it, and it’s part of the reason why I’d

make myself throw up. It’s part of the reason why I chopped my

hair off in sixth grade. Why I wore baggy clothes for so long. Why

walking through a crowd sends me into a panic attack. Why I

hated being touched. It was basically the reason for everything

that I did. And it was always there all the time… Sometimes I just

wanted a break from it, but every time I looked forward to see if a

break was possible, it never seemed like it could happen. I honestly

thought I’d be that way forever, which sometimes made me wish

that forever would be a really short time.

She takes another deep breath and her voice falters.

I actually thought about making it short a few times, but I

never got further than the thoughts. I’m glad I did too, because

despite all the ugly and heaviness and panic attacks, it was worth

the suffering because I got you… You saved me from a lifetime of

self-loathing and torture. You saved me from myself, from my past,

from the painful, lonely future I’d set up for myself. And I thought

everything would be okay. But then I found you on the floor… that

night… and I realized how much you’d been hurting and how

much you needed to be saved too. Not just from the injuries but

from the pain I know you have trapped inside you.

I get it. I really do. And I’ll do anything to help you. You just

have to let me help. And I need you to let me help you because I

need you. I can’t… I can’t….

She starts to cry and it makes my own eyes water up. There

are people walking in and out of the café and I’m standing

underneath the carport in front of cars crying like a fucking baby.

But it doesn’t matter. The tears, the pain, the past, none of it

matters. They’re just things that exist inside me like the scars on

my body. Sure, they’ll always be there, reminding me of what I

went through, but it doesn’t mean I have to hold on to the pain.

Scars fade and become marks on my skin. They weren’t originally

there and although they do alter how my skin looks, they don’t

change how I work and function.

Her tears quiet and she sniffles before speaking again.

I can’t do this without you. I… I-I love you, Kayden. And I

don’t expect you to say it back. I don’t expect anything. I just

wanted you to know because you deserve to know and you

deserve to be loved.

The line goes quiet. I hear her breathing for a moment

before she hangs up. Her words echo in my head. It’s like she

knows. Knows that no one’s ever said that to me before, except for

Daisy and that wasn’t the same. It was fake and easy to say back to

her because it was just words to both of us. Callie means it. I can

tell through the sound of her tears.

I don’t know what to do. My heart is thumping in my chest

as I glance around at the people getting in their cars and eating

their breakfast inside the diner. I know what I want to do. I want to turn it off, make my heart relax, run away from the feelings nipping

at my heels.

I get up, sliding my phone into my back pocket, and then I

start to run down the road right as the wind kicks up. Snow flurries

are falling on the sidewalk and road, but I run against them,

pushing forward, unsure where I’m going. And that’s okay.

Sometimes the best things are the ones that aren’t planned, the

decisions made while living in the moment.