I Choose You

Problems

"All I see outside is problems

I been hidin' in my room

I don't think I'm gonna solve 'em

But I can try, you know I do"

- "Problems" by Bryce Vine

***

Laying in bed, I allowed my head to roll over so that I could get a view of my alarm clock. It was nearly eleven o'clock in the morning. I groaned in frustration with a shake of my body for dramatics. If I wanted to meet Icarus, I had to get a move on sooner rather than later.

I made no attempt to get up. I was stuck in an endless cycle with no courage or strength to get up. It was nauseating. 

"Grace?" My father knocked on my bedroom door, respecting my privacy and not just walking in.

An exhale escaped my lips. He rarely came to my room, unless it was an emergency. I was not ready. I needed more time to decompress and find some way of understanding what happened in the previous night - and more presently, the issue was deciding if I was going to go. 

"Come in," I spoke up after a moment. I was not just gonna leave my father outside my bedroom door. 

My dad twisted the knob and pushed open the door. His head stuck through a small crack he created. "I wanted to check up on you after yesterday. You didn't say much when Walker dropped you off last night."

Not saying much was an understatement. I didn't say a single word when I got home. Instead, I went straight to my room, let Turtle in, and pretty much passed out. I left no room for a conversation to be had or even for my thoughts to consume me.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I just . . . Needed space."

Dad opened the door a little more. "I understand. It was a lot to take in. If you want someone to talk to, I'm here."

My father could be one of the most caring people I know. "She cheated on you, had a kid, and lied about it for years. What's there to talk about?" I attempted to not sound salty about the situation but failed. I gave my father an apologetic look but did not say anything else.

Sighing, Dad gave a nod. "True but I don't blame her entirely. You and Ryland weren't born yet, Walker was too young to remember but your mother was extremely depressed. I tried to get her to go to therapy and get her on the right meds." Dad leaned against my door frame, almost as if it elevated the weight of the conversation.

"I knew she was hanging out with that Jeremy guy. I convinced myself they were just friends for the longest time but I always knew it was more . . . when Becca - your mom," Dad corrected himself as if I did not know my mother's first name, "came back from taking care of her mother - or so she told me - and everything was different. It was like her and Jeremy never happened. It felt like when we first met and married, but dare I say better.

"At the time, I put the past behind me . . . I guess it's true, the past catches up with you," Dad muttered the last part to himself but just loud enough for me to hear.

"If it's any consolation, I do believe that Jeremy saved her life. Which, I'm thankful for - especially since you and Ryland were born because of so."

I smiled. Sometimes my father was just too perfect for this world. He always found the positive in every situation. It was admittingly inspiring and at times borderline irritating.

"Thanks, Dad." I gratefully replied with the corner of my lips still curved upwards into a smile. Inhaling, I gained the courage I was looking for all morning. "Do you mind dropping me off at Skyland Park?"