by Lowe, T. I.
I have finally had enough.
I’m tired of being lost.
Chapter Thirteen
The storm is rolling in at an unforgivable rate as I pull up to the beach. I sit in my car for a few moments in a daze and watch the rain meet the angry waves. The medicine is doing its job and everything is numb—from my lips to my mind to my soul—numb. It’s a feeling I want to keep—to never feel the hurts and disappointments ever again. As this thought dances around my foggy mind, the idea materializes right in the midst of those swelling waves.
I stumble out of the car and become instantly drenched in the downpour, but I barely give it any notice. I stagger to the water’s edge as lightning splits across the stormy sky. Mother Nature and I are on the same page with our restless moods. The roaring waves and thunder crash all around me, and the ocean beckons me even farther.
The demons whisper, Come meet me. Let’s dance our dance. Just give in. It’s time.
I am waist deep in the hostile water, swaying to the tempest. It’s getting harder to focus on anything but the hazy whispers undulating in and out. My mouth feels like cotton, so I lean my head back to take in the tears of the sky when a wave crashes into me and knocks me under. I don’t fight against it. I freely let the current beat me and pull me for a spell before deciding to reemerge.
I’m now chin-deep in the livid sea, and all I can think is to just go out a bit farther. I do, until I have no choice but to sink or swim. I tread the irritated waters for a while, trying to figure out what in the world I’m doing. But my mind is too disoriented from being overmedicated and cannot decipher the situation. I’m disoriented and feel as though I’m stuck in one of my dreams—maybe I am…
My eyes slip shut until a boom of thunder awakens me. I’m not sure how long I’ve been out here—seconds, minutes, a lifetime… My legs and arms are getting tired now and feel too heavy and so I decide to let go. I just let go…
Letting go, I allow the current to take me under. The ocean encapsulates me until everything is eerily quiet and peaceful. It’s as if the deeper I sink, the less the storm can affect me. A peculiar thought flickers through my confused consciousness. Has peace been hiding under the waves of this ocean all along? My lungs begin to protest after allowing the ocean to claim me for a spell. No. The peace is not here either, I decide. Panic tries to push its way in and I think about propelling myself to the surface, but I rethink it. Instead, my mouth opens and breathes in the salty water. My physical body tries to protest, but I welcome the burning invasion. My ever-present demons sing joyfully, just endure this for only a little longer and you can be freed. Let the tide take you away…
I’m lost…I’m worthless…I’m confused…
In this moment, I let go completely. I stop fighting a fight I can never win. I suck more of the saltwater in with my body protesting, refusing to give it any relief.
Soon… It will all be over soon.
A hand snatches me up and I try fruitlessly to fight it off. The vice grip propels me to the surface and I can’t wiggle free from it.
“Oh no you don’t!” His voice breaks through in a gruff tone as he begins to pull me towards the shore. I’m so lethargic at this moment that I have no choice but to let him. In my next glimpse of consciousness, I’m being dragged onto the shore. My body expels the saltwater violently onto the wet sand as the rain slams into us in thick sheets.
“No you don’t,” Lucas says again through gritted teeth as he pulls me onto his lap. I weakly look up at him and notice his own tears mingling with the rain. I want to say I’m sorry for those tears, but more ocean makes its way out of my lungs at that moment. Then darkness pulls me under.
When I rouse back awake, I find myself shivering in Lucas’s jeep. He is pulling up somewhere. I don’t care where because, at this moment, the fire in my throat and lungs are overwhelming. I swallow and wince at the pain this causes. I begin to whimper and Lucas finds my hand.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay. It’s going to be okay,” he whispers in a continuous chant as he parks. He releases my hand, so I close my eyes. I open them almost immediately when he pulls my door open, swoops me in his arms, and carries me up the steps of an unfamiliar beach house. He pushes through the front door and carries me straight upstairs to what my jumbled mind guesses is the master bath. My eyes are so irritated that I don’t even try to focus on anything particularly.
Lucas stands me up in front of a massive walk-in shower and turns on an assortment of nobs. The pelting water blends with the rain song in a melancholy chorus. I have to hold onto the wall while Lucas tries to peel my saturated clothes off. My yoga pants feel so sticky and I worry we will never get them past my shoes… That’s when I notice I’m barefoot. I guess the ocean didn’t get to claim my soul this day; I think and smirk at the stupid thought that it did get the soles of my shoes. I know, dumb notion. I blame it on my heavily medicated state.
Lucas gives me a curious, concerned look, but I just shake the idea and his question away. He bends down to work my panties past my feet and I have to hold onto his shoulders so I won’t topple over. I really should not have taken three pills. My head doesn’t feel like it is attached to my body.
He guides me gingerly into the warm streams of water as though I am the most fragile thing—maybe I am. All I know in this moment is the warm, vigorous water is delicious. I lean my head back and gulp the fresh water as though I have just been rescued from an extended stay in the desert. After shedding his own wet clothes, Lucas joins me in the shower.
He turns me towards him and begins to massage water through my tangled hair. His tearful eyes study me in an excruciating way. I see the pain etched across his beautiful features. I am a burden, and it stings me deeply for causing this. I try to speak an apology, but this produces a coughing fit freeing some more trapped saltwater from my lungs. I release it and follow up with a manly hacking spit, causing a boyish smirk to faintly appear on my Lucas’s face as he rolls his eyes. In only a moment, the seriousness is back painfully in his features.
I gulp some more fresh water and watch as Lucas picks up a bottle of shampoo and begins to work it through my knotted hair. I give him a questioning look because the unmistakable aroma of eucalyptus and mint is none other than my own shampoo.
As he lathers and massages my head, he answers my unspoken questions. “I rented this beach house late last night. I was on my way to pick you up when I saw you peel out of your mother’s driveway. I followed you to the beach…” His voice tightens at this. He gathers me up in his arms, and we both tremble while he sobs. I wish I could cry along with him. I hate myself for doing this to him. It’s the first time I have witnessed Lucas cry, and it punches me deeply that I am the cause. Shame engulfs me.
I slur out an apology around a too-thick tongue. “I’m so sorry.”
My speech pulls him back into focus as he eyes me. “How many did you take?” he asks.
“Too many.” I lick my swollen lips. “But not enough.” I bob my head to convey meaning.
“Savannah?” He’s not content with my answer.
“Three. I only took three.”
If this upsets Lucas more, he doesn’t show it. He goes back to washing the ocean off me. After rinsing my hair, he works a good amount of conditioner through my tangled tresses. He then moves onto washing my body in a tender, massaging manner. I’m not so far gone that I couldn’t take care of this myself, but it feels too good not to indulge. His touch is so heavenly that I can barely keep standing. This man can pour so much love out with just his touch. He relays his heartache and compassion through the attention he gives me in this moment. Every so often, he brushes a kiss on my shoulder or over my temple or where his hands have just washed. He is still slightly trembling, so I know this scare won’t be leaving us so easily.
I have to get myself together. What I did was stupid and selfish. This man, who is practically worshiping me in angst at the moment, doesn’t deserve this. In this very moment, the realizat
ion slams into me so hard, my legs buckle, causing Lucas to have to hold me up. I don’t deserve this either.
He holds me fiercely under the shower jets and begins slowly rocking us in a silent dance. He seems to always try to out dance my demons. I’m ready to finally let him too. It has taken me quite the journey to get to this point of intimacy with my husband, and now I feel like it is the only thing that keeps me going.
Love is giving. And love is accepting. Lucas’s words echo through my mind as he continues to caress me. We stand under that water as I release more demons. I want to lay them all down. I want to be able to be healthy enough to love this man back the way he and I both deserve.
He eventually eases away, places me on the tiled shower bench, and sets out to washing the sea off his own body. He moves through it fast. I watch as he places his hands on the wall opposite of me as if he needs it to balance himself. The water cascades down his taut shoulders and I can actually see the burden of this morning’s monstrous event weighing on him. He sniffles a few times, but seems to pull himself together by the time he shuts the water off to face me.
He runs his hands roughly through his wet, curly locks as he gazes at me. Keeping his hands on top of his head, he whispers, “You are to never do that again.” I nod in agreement.
Lucas pulls me out of the shower stall and begins to dry me with a soft thick towel. Once we are both dry, he gathers me in his strong arms as though I’m the most precious thing and carries me to bed, where he continues to pour out his love for me. His confidence seems to wane a bit and is replaced by urgent uncertainty and fear as he holds me tighter than normal. This is usually a trigger for an attack and I wait for it to creep up but it never does. Maybe it’s because I focus on Lucas in this moment and not my fears or simply from being overmedicated. I know I’m the cause of this. His body trembles with the fear I placed there. I wish he had not witnessed my darkness, but he did and there’s nothing I can do about it now. All I can do is relay my apology in this instant. I am so sorry, but I seem to have no control over the demons that are holding me captive. I want to be free of it just as much as Lucas does. He wants to fix me and I want him to, but we both know it’s not in his power to. It’s not fair to put such a burden on him. He’s tried to carry it ever since we’ve met.
“I’m sorry,” I confess as I burrow close to him and his warmth. “I’m so sorry.” These words repeat every so often, but he seems to only be able to slightly nod his head in recognition to them.
As we comfort each other, both storms pass and finally give way to peace. At least it does until nearly dawn when the fuzz of Xanax seeps completely away and my stress level starts to rev back up again.
I lay in my Lucas’s arms as I listen to the waves lap against the shore. I’ve been listening to this lulling song for hours now as I contemplate everything. My eyes have awakened it seems after yesterday’s failed suicide attempt. I’m thankful that this is the end of that attempt instead of being buried on the beach hill with my dad tomorrow. I’ve been given another chance, and I need to figure out how to make it count.
I ease out of Lucas’s arms and slip on a baggy pair of sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt I find in his suitcase. I swipe his keys and start to head out.
“Hey?” he asks in a groggy tone as I’m about to leave. I turn back to find that fear in his eyes.
I move back to the bed and climb in his lap for a few minutes before I whisper, “I need to go see Miss May. I’ll be back shortly. I promise.” I kiss the scruff on his cheek and head out.
The rain is coming down in only a whisper now as I pull into her driveway. I find Miss May standing on her porch in curlers as if she has been expecting me. Maybe she has. I’m beginning to think she has a direct line to God.
Before I can reach her front steps, my legs give way and I collapse in the muddy yard. Something significant shifts inside me. I don’t know what overtakes me in this moment, but the next thing I know, I am screaming to the top of my lungs. I scream and I scream as Miss May kneels beside me. I fell her wrap her arms around me, sheltering me from the world as she’s always done. Her body rocks alongside mine as my soul expels all of the toxins wave after wave.
“I can’t carry it anymore! It’s too much! How can I let it go? I have to!” I scream out in agony, raising my head towards the mournful sky. The cool mist mingles with a hot liquid that is trickling down my face. It scares me because I think I’m bleeding somehow. I reach up to wipe the warm liquid off my face and am confused when I inspect my hand and find no trace of blood.
I’m not bleeding…I’m crying! My body finally releases the flood of grief and bottled-up pain. I pull on Miss May desperately and I know she sees a mad woman before her as the levy finally breaks free and I sob wholeheartedly with my body trembling violently.
“You gotta give it to God, child. He the only one that can take it away.” She continues to hold me as my screaming escalates.
I’m fed up and scream out to God, “Why, God? Why?” I scream this repeatedly until my voice tires. “I don’t want this anymore!”
“He trying to hand you a better life. One with peace and love. He’s already gave you Lucas. Take what God is begging to give you, child.” She pulls back so I have to meet her gaze. We are both sopping wet and muddy, but it barely registers. “Give God all that bad stuff. You know you’s sick of carrying it. Give it to Him child and live!”
She rocks me as the rain lets up and the sun begins peeking out as if on cue. In this moment, I agree to give it up. I can actually feel the burdens leave me. I cry a long cry—the tears of hurt and abuse and of nightmares eventually wash away and I am renewed with tears of relief.
We eventually make our way to the porch. We sit in an understandable silence as the new day wakes up oblivious as to what has just transpired in this muddy front yard. Miss May and I don’t share, we just keep rocking in our chairs.
“I need to get back to Lucas before he gets worried,” I say as I rise from my chair. I kiss Miss May on her cheek and head to the jeep.
“No more of those stupid stunts you tried pulling yesterday, young lady,” she says as I open the driver’s door. I don’t ask her how she knew about that. I’m guessing it’s the same way she knew I was going to visit this morning—my other saving grace.
“Yes ma’am,” I say before closing the door.
I pull up at the beach house and inspect it, taking it in for the first time. Lucas has rented us a Mediterranean-style bungalow with creamy stucco walls and a terra cotta roof. The man amazes me. He knows I’m not a fan of the cliché cookie-cutter beach structures that dot most of this shore. Leave it to him to seek out a unique one. I shake my head with a smile and head straight to that enormous shower to wash off the mud.
Once I emerge, I find my belongings have been gathered from Jean’s and brought here. I pull on a sundress and pad out with wet hair to look for my Lucas. I find him on the balcony with two cups of steamy coffee along with a stack of papers on the table that has been dried. I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his bare shoulders. He is wearing only a pair of shorts, and his body is nicely warm, so I greedily soak it in. The day is heating up fast, even with the beach breeze.
“I love you,” I whisper against his wavy tousled hair. I begin to pull away, but he holds me there with a firm grasp.
“Then never try to leave me again.” His voice is thick with emotion. He is still not over yesterday. I guess I wouldn’t be either if I watched him do something so dangerous… So stupid.
“Promise,” I say as I kiss my way along the side of his neck. He pulls me around and into his lap, holding me until I begin crying again. This seems to scare him just as bad as yesterday, because Lucas has never seen me cry.
“Savannah?” he asks cautiously as he sits me up so he can study me, sorrow scorching his green eyes.
I smile to reassure him, but he doesn’t seem to buy it. He probably thinks I have just stepped off the cliff and plummeted to Looneyville. I try again by
pulling him towards me and crush my lips against his. I have never allowed this intensity, but I feel I have finally let enough go that I can handle it. I kiss him with all my might, conveying to him how much I love him. He is guarded at first but seems to finally let go of his caution and meets my passion with his own urgency. Lucas deserves to feel as much love as he has always freely given me. I feel no tingling in my fingertips and the sudden rise of my heart rate feels invigorating instead of crippling. I’m swept away in the freedom of this moment and a fresh wave of tears release from me.
I kiss him fiercely and knot my hands in his hair roughly. We are both trembling with excitement over this bewildering new moment we are sharing. Lucas says nothing more. He releases a low fervent growl before he lifts me up in his strong arms and carries me back into the beach house—the coffee forgotten.
Chapter Fourteen
The afternoon opens up brilliantly and finds me and Lucas back on the balcony. We are munching away on shrimp burgers and onion rings he has grabbed up from the Beach Shack, which is conveniently located about a quarter of a mile down the beach. The sandy shore below us has become noisy with visitors soaking up the sun and surf. A few surfers are catching the last of the waves that have been kicked up during the storm. I itch to join them, but stay put and cram another delicious onion ring in my mouth instead.
I am blissfully content as I sit here, and it surprises me. I look over at my favorite guy and smile a toothy smile at him. He returns it with his boyish grin as he picks up the stacks of papers we left unattended earlier. I slurp up some of my soda before asking, “What are those?”
He looks over at me before going back to studying the papers. “They are the tax files and bank records for your dad’s businesses from the past three years.” He tries to hand over one of the papers, but I don’t look at it. I continue to stare at him with my silent questions. He knows what I’m asking, so he answers. “I had John Paul bring them along with your belongings this morning. He told me on the phone yesterday about the will when I called to let you know I was on my way. I couldn’t get ahold of you, so I ended up calling him.” He doesn’t seem a bit surprised at my dad’s wishes. Why am I the only one to not see that one coming?
