Cat & Drew's Whirlwind Adventure

11. Beautiful Trauma

I'm not ready for the world outside. There are too many things waiting to get me out there, in the dark, looking for the perfect moment when I leave this one place I've managed to carve out for myself beyond space and time. This is safe—not watching that view with Troy or the back of some moldy closet—it's here, in Cat's bedroom. Last night would have been a lot for anyone, and if I'm being honest it would have been too much for even me, but Cat still invited me in with open arms that have yet to show any exhaustion. We didn't talk about much at first, mostly she let me cry and expel all the nasty feelings that were bubbling up and overloading me, and then we watched a movie.

A day later and I can't remember what it was now, but that's not the point, it's about the space she's given me, the respect and the understanding. It was after that when we finally began to talk a little while we laid in bed, her under the covers and me on top, a deliberate choice meant to keep us separated when we were anything but. In a nice change of pace I traced the lines in her ceiling instead, wondering what happy memories she could have possibly made since coming here that I might find in them. We talked all night like that, safe, in her room, in her bed, and even though I'm still so far from fine I feel better today than I have since the incident at the shop.

"My mom's calling again," my hand vibrates from the buzzing. She and my dad both have been hounding me nonstop, if I hadn't picked up on it before, I know that I've lost my last ally in my dad—he'll definitely be on my mom's side now. I have no clue how I'm going to stand up to both of them, so I'm ignoring the whole thing for today. Mostly. I'm not a monster, I did text them so they'd know I'm okay.

"Turn your phone off, after what that bitch did you ought to let her sweat it out. She's lucky you're so nice, if it were me I would've laid her out right there on the floor." Cat returns from raiding the kitchen, a myriad of snacks in her grip, tucked into her elbows, under her arms. Our lazy morning has turned into a lazy afternoon, and she's eager to make the most of this weekend while her aunt is away.

"It sucked, but I'm not sure I would've reacted any different. I shouldn't have said what I did, it was out of line." Trying not to feel anything continues to be difficult when I picture the wounded expression on mom's face after I told her being dead would be better than having to be around her.

"If you want my opinion, so was that stunt they tried with you. Asking your old coach to be there and everything? That's fucked up, you did what you had to." She sits on the edge of the bed.

"I don't know if I believe that." I glance back down at my phone. While I don't think she's totally wrong, I get no joy out of these concerned texts from my parents. Troy either. Coach must've filled him in after all, because he's texted me a few times too, and I broke down and texted him back. I really don't want to be a monster. I look at Cat again, "you didn't see them. It was awful."

"So what, you're going to let them guilt you into going to therapy?"

"No. Maybe? I doubt I really have much of a choice after yesterday. It would be so easy if I hated them for making me do this, but I can't, I know exactly what they think when they look at me because I'm thinking it too. I'm not this person, or I don't want to be, but I just keep hurting everyone around me." Nobody knows pain better than I do, look at where I am—look at where it's gotten me. Why would I want that for anyone I care about? I'm already not in a good place and I can hear myself getting emotional. "I don't know how to stop."

"It's not your job to make them feel better about what happened to you. How selfish is that? If they would back off and let you do your own thing then there wouldn't be any issue. You have nothing to feel bad about, this is on them."