Find You in the Dark

by A. Meredith Walters

  I caught sight of the mail truck as it skidded to a stop in front of the house. I don't know why it made me pause, but it did. I walked out to meet the mail man. “Here, I'll get that.” I said, forcing a smile and taking the pile of envelopes. “Drive safely.” I told him as he got back in his truck. He thanked me and left.

  My hands began to shake as I sorted through the stack of bills and junk mail. My reaction was always the same when the mail arrived. I always wished, actually yearned, for just once be a letter addressed to me. I hated that I repeatedly go my hopes up, but I did anyway.

  But this time, I found what I was looking for. There at the bottom of the pile was a small envelope. Pulling it out, my heart stuttered at the sight of my name written in a familiar, sloping hand. Funny how just the sight of his handwriting had the power to shred my guts.

  Standing there, with snow up to my ankles, I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanted to rip the letter to pieces, frightened by the crippling pain that would inevitably accompany his words. But that was such a small part of the hurricane of emotions I was feeling that I hastily shoved it away. Of course I would read it. I had to. I felt compelled to, never mind the emotional wreckage it could create. It wasn't really even an option. I most definitely would read it. Just not right now.

  I folded up the letter and put it in my jean pocket and went about the rest of my day, even as the envelope weighed me down like a stone around my neck.

  I spent the rest of the morning channel surfing, enjoying the snow day. Rachel and Daniel trekked over in the afternoon and Rachel insisted on giving me a hair cut. Normally I wouldn't let scissors anywhere near me, but with Clay's words deep in my pocket, I felt a sudden overwhelming need for change. Daniel flopped down on my bed and leafed through a magazine as Rachel snipped and layered and snipped some more. “I can't believe you read this junk.” Daniel snorted. Rachel held my head straight as I tried to see the article he was reading on how to get a boy to notice you. “If you don't want to have to buzz your head later, hold still.” I immediately sat up straight.

  When Rachel was finished she held up a mirror. “So, whatcha think?” She asked. I turned my head side to side and grinned. She had done an awesome job. My normally long brown hair had been chopped off above my shoulders. Rachel had given me chunky layers around my face and it looked amazingly sleek and stylish. I fluffed it. “You have a gift, my friend.” I complimented, very pleased with the end result. Daniel looked up and gave me a low whistle. “You look hot, Mags.” Rachel and I grinned.

  “So Maggie...” Daniel began. I was instantly suspicious, because he never used my full name. I looked at him archly. “Yes.” I prompted. “I was talking to Jake Fitzpatrick the other day and he was asking about you.” I looked away from my best friend. I knew he was trying to be helpful, wanting me to move on with my life. Attempting to re-acclimate me to the life I had led before Clay had appeared in it. But Jake Fitzpatrick, actually any guy, didn't have a chance as long as Clay still held my heart.

  “Don't think so, Danny.” I said lightly, trying to hide the misery the thought of dating other guys created. “Jake's hot. I mean, what would it hurt to go out on a date with him? We could all go together if that would make it easier. It's not as though you're cheating. I mean...you know, I don't think Clay's...ummm...well...you know.” Rachel didn't finish her thought, letting her sentence trail off into what became an awkward silence.

  Her well-intentioned encouragement made me snap and I flushed with anger. “Well, I can't do that okay. I love Clay and it wouldn't be right. So just drop it please.” I told them shortly. I didn't miss the look that passed between the two. And the subject was dropped.

  Daniel and Rachel didn't stay much longer and sadly, I was relieved when they left. Trying to put on my happy face was proving difficult today. Not when I was just waiting to read Clay's letter.

  Finally, after dinner, I excused myself and went to my room. My parents didn't question it, as this had become my normal routine. I closed the door behind me and sat on my bed. I slowly pulled out the crumpled letter from my pocket and held it, feeling its warmth from being tucked against me all day.

  I inspected the envelope and saw that there was no return address. That seemed to speak pretty loudly that whatever Clayton Reed had to say to me required no response. I couldn't help but feel equal parts angry and hurt by that.

  Tearing open the envelope, I carefully unfolded the paper. My name jumped out at me. I noticed the indentations where Clay had pressed his pen down hard. I could almost feel his anxiety. His fear. His grief. Undoubtedly because that was exactly how I was feeling. I closed my eyes, bracing myself and gearing up my nerve. Then I began to read. His love for me immediately lept up from the page. I was almost crippled with the intense relief. I realized then how scared I had been that he would stop loving me. That he would go on and live his life and forget all about me. But I guess I should have given him more credit than that.

  Maggie,

  I'm not sure I should be writing this. I feel like it's incredibly selfish of me to need to write these words and to need you to read them – to need you to know they are true. As if I am more entitled to these feelings than you are. But I'm not. Your thoughts, the way you feel, every single thing about you, means everything to me.

  I guess that's why I'm writing. There isn't a second of every day that passes that I don't think about you. You are everywhere. I can still smell your hair, hear you cursing me when I drive too fast, and feel your breath as I fall asleep.

  It hurts to remember you. But it scares me to try and forget. I remember you telling me that my love for you shouldn't hurt, that it should be something wonderful. And it is. It is the most wonderful thing I've ever had. But the truth is, it does hurt. My love for you destroyed everything around us and almost destroyed you, and I hate myself for that.

  You deserve so much more than me. You always have. I hope you do find what you deserve one day. Someone who can love you selflessly and unconditionally without baggage and strings. Someone who doesn't let you leave your family behind. Someone you don't have to follow into hell.

  I am a selfish person, Mags. Because I still love you and I know that I will until I die. And even as I tell you to move on with your life and live it - to find someone else, I pray you don't. Because I can't handle the thought of anyone else holding you, anyone else touching you, anyone else experiencing your love the way I did.

  I don't know exactly what I'm trying to tell you here. I can see the frown on your face as you're reading this and hear you telling me to spit it out and get on with it. (I smiled through my tear-filled eyes at that comment. Clay knew me too well).

  I suppose what I'm really trying to say is thank you. Thank you for giving me the most beautiful and amazing months of my life. Thank you for loving me in spite of me. Thank you for giving me hope and light, even if it was only for a little while. And I want to tell you again, I'm sorry. I should have been stronger and let you lean on me, instead of forcing you to shoulder the burden for both of us.

  I realize my love for you crippled both of us.

  But your love saved me.

  Which is why this has to be goodbye. I can't stomach the thought of you waiting for me, for a person that I may never be. I'm trying to get better. But it's a hard and bitter road and I don't know when, or even if, I will ever be completely okay.

  I want you to move on. To live your life, even if it rips me apart to not live it with you. I can't even give you the hope that there is a maybe at the end of all this. Because I would hate to kill that hope again.

  Just know that you are and always will be my world. You found me in the dark and saved me from myself. You have shown me the type of person I want to be and I strive to be him. For you and for me.

  I will love you forever.

  Always,

  Clay

  Wow. I dropped the letter at my feet and made no effort to wipe the tears that streamed down my face. Whatever I had been expecting, that was
n't it.

  Damn Clay Reed and his stupid back and forth crap! How perfectly typical of him. Telling me how much he loved me and in the next breath pushing me away. He had effectively shut me out of his life. Again. He wanted me to move on. To live my life. He told me not to wait for him, that he wouldn't be coming back to me.

  I found it hard to breathe as I faced the finality of his words. We were over. There was no more us. I couldn't help but feel anger and betrayal at how he gave up. How he just let go of all that we had.

  I picked the letter up from the floor and balled it in my fist, planning to throw it away. But I stopped myself. I placed the paper on my desk and smoothed it out. I couldn't get rid of it. It was my last link to him, and I needed that.

  So I put it in the very bottom of my desk drawer. I didn't want to see it again, but I couldn't let go of it either. I couldn’t read his goodbye, but I had to know that it was still there. That his love was a real thing. That I hadn't imagined it.

  I felt older, and maybe just a little bit wiser. I had my own baggage and strings and it would take time for me to lighten my load. But I would.

  Because I was Maggie Young. And from now on I vowed to stay out of the dark.

  A Sneak Peak at the sequel to “Find You in the Dark”....

  Light in the Shadows

  Chapter 1

  ~Clay~

  “You're cheating! There is no freaking way you can win six rounds of poker!” The scrawny boy across the table from me said, throwing his cards down in frustration. I chuckled, as I scooped up the pile of red and blue chips, adding them to my pile.

  “I warned you that there was no way you could beat me Tyler. Not my fault that you didn't take my advice.” Tyler grumbled under his breath but grabbed the pile of cards and started to shuffle them again.

  I leaned back in the wing back chair waiting for my friend to deal. I had been at the Grayson Center for almost three months. I was enrolled in a 90 day program and my time was almost up. Looking around the recreation room, I would actually be kind of sad when I had to leave.

  Which is weird considering how much I had fought coming here in the first place. Once I had gotten over my anger and oppositional reaction to treatment, I sort of came to enjoy my time there and found that the staff and the other patients did something I never thought possible.

  They showed me how to heal.

  And that's what I was doing. Slowly. Not that I expected a perfect fix in three months. I realized my healing would take years. And there were days I never thought I would be able to leave and live a decent life outside the supports of the center and the safety of its walls. But then there were good days, like today, when I felt like I could take on the world.

  Like I could find my way back to Maggie.

  “What's with the goofy smile, bro? You look like an idiot.” Tyler said good- naturedly as he tossed out cards. I blinked, taken away from my happy thoughts and picked up my cards. “Nothin' man. Just having a good day.”

  Tyler smiled. Other guys would probably have given me shit for acting like an emo pussy. But not the people here. We were all there because we needed to have those good days. So we understood the importance of being happy for those who had them.

  “Cool, Clay. Glad to hear it. Now, focus on the damn game. I want to win some of my chips back.” Tyler retorted, concentrating on his hand.

  I grinned before beating him soundly – yet again.

  The group sat on the floor, kids relaxing on over sized cushions. Looking around, I could almost imagine this was just a bunch of friends hanging out together. Except for the two adults who sat in the middle asking them questions like “Tell me about your relationship with your family” and “How does that make you feel?”

  Yep, group therapy was a blast.

  The girl to my right, a dark haired- chick, named Maria who was here to deal with her severe depression and her promiscuity brought on by serious daddy issues, was trying to figure out how to answer the question that Lydia, the female counselor, had just asked her.

  “Just think about your happiest memory with your mother. It can be something simple like talking to her about your day, or a time she smiled at you.” Lydia prompted gently. Maria's problems, like most of the kids in the room, were rooted firmly in the relationship with her parents.

  Today's group topic was trying to acknowledge the positive aspects of our familial relationships. To say this was hard for most of us was an understatement.

  I dreaded the groups when we had to talk about our parents in a more positive light. It was so much easier to vent about how crappy they were than actually devoting energy to searching for something nice to say.

  “Um. Well, I guess there was this time, I was probably like six. And my mom took me to the park and pushed me on the swings.” Maria volunteered, looking at Lydia and Matt, the other counselor, for approval.

  They each nodded. “Good. And how did you feel then?” Matt urged. Maria smiled a bit. “It felt good. Like she...I don't know...loved me.” The smile on her face was sad and my heart hurt for her. I understood her need to feel loved by her mother all too well.

  There was some more processing and then a period of silence while everyone allowed Maria time to get herself together. Then it was my turn. Matt looked at me expectantly. “Clay. What about you? What is a happy memory you have about your parents?” The group looked at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. Over the last two and a half months, this disclosure thing had proven difficult for me.

  I was not a person that revealed personal details very easily. It had taken Maggie, the person I loved most in this world, a long time to get me to open up. And if it was hard for me to talk to Maggie, then it was like pulling teeth to get me to open up to a group of strangers.

  But over time, after lots of individual and group therapy sessions, I found myself able to loosen up and talk more about what I had experienced. The things I felt, my fears, my pain, and what I wanted most in my life. And I found that the more I talked, the better I felt.

  I began to recognize that these people weren't here to judge me or make me feel bad when I talked about wanting to kill myself or how hard it was for me not to cut. They didn't look at me like I was crazy when I would break down after a particularly gut- wrenching session. This was the most support I had felt from anyone, other than Maggie, and Ruby and Lisa, in my entire life.

  And it felt unbelievable.

  So, with all eyes on me, I thought really about my answer to Matt's question. And then, just like that I had it. A memory that was actually good and not tainted by anger and bitterness. “My dad taking me fishing.” Lydia smiled at me. “Yeah. It was before things got really bad. My dad wasn't the district attorney yet, so he had more time for me. He picked me up from school early one day and drove us out to a lake. I can't really remember where. Anyway, we spent all day fishing and talking. It was nice.”

  I found myself smiling as I remembered a time I could be with my dad without wanting to rip his face off. Matt nodded. “That sounds awesome, Clay. Thanks for sharing that with us.” And he was moving on to the next person.

  The memory of that time with my dad made me feel pretty good. I was feeling that way a lot more lately. Less of the crazy depression and anger, and more of the happy- go- lucky thing that I never thought I was capable of experiencing.

  I'm sure it had a lot to do with my new medication. After I came to the Grayson Center, my new doctor, Doctor Todd as we kids called him, put me on a new pill. One that helped control my mood swings without turning me into a zombie.

  It was pretty great. And even though I had moments where I strangely missed those energetic highs, which Doctor Todd told me was normal, I sure as hell didn't miss the crippling lows. The psychotherapy that I attended three times a week was also helping a lot. It was nice to not have to worry about hurting myself or someone else. To think that maybe I would be able to get my shit together and find a way back to where I belonged.

  With Maggie.

&n
bsp; I shook my head. I couldn't think about her here in group. That was something I saved for when I was alone. Because if I started thinking of her now, I would invariably start thinking about how much I hurt her and how I fucked things up so royally. And then my feel- good mood would evaporate in a flash. Snap. Just like that.

  I must have zoned out for awhile, because I suddenly realized that the other kids were getting to their feet. Maria grinned at me. “Earth to Clay!” She reached for my hand to help me up. I looked at her a moment as I got to my feet. Maria had a nice smile and really pretty eyes. But she wasn't Maggie. I dropped her hand quickly. I tried to pretend that I didn't see the disappointment flash across her face. We walked together out of the common room and headed down the hallway to the cafeteria. “That was pretty tough today.” Maria said as we joined up with the others, who were getting in line for lunch.