RafexKiara Tangled Up in All Your Pieces // Riara

Chapter 19

For a moment, I was at peace.

I forgot what had happened, of all the events around me.

It was as if I had a day to remove my mask, and to be free.

I felt like I was the old me.

The one before we moved to this place, before my life became so different.

I was sailing my ship on still waters, awaiting the storm to come.

Looking back, I wonder if my old self would have been proud of me and how I turned out. Or would she have been disappointed?

I've always tried to set a moral standard of becoming someone my younger self would have been proud of.

I've always asked myself whether I would be proud of who I had become.

It was always a therapy session in my mind utilizing affirmations to try and improve myself.

Was I happy? Was I growing? Was I a good friend, or daughter?

If not, why? How could I improve?

I also believed in the need of allowing oneself to develop.

Growing into the space in my shoes and enabling the scrapes and bruises on my feet to impact my feet to quickly grow into the shoes.

To fill in the shoes, you must embrace the pain; otherwise, the wounds would take longer to heal.

That, I believe, is why I never gave up. I never gave up the suffering because I knew I had to go through it to survive.

I thought that avoiding it would exacerbate the pain, and cause it to resurface in various areas of your life if the thorns on the rose were not removed at the appropriate moment.

I couldn't run away. I'd be miserable for the rest of my life if I fled away.

Life felt like a basketball game at times. Give it everything you've got before life's buzzer beater stops and you can't go back.

When it came to living in the now, I was constantly stuck. I lived it in a way that made time a factor.

Time was the main concern for me, although the time I had was more than enough for me to last a lifetime.

I had to be alert at all times; I couldn't sit around wasting my life, waiting for someone to pull me off my ass and go live it.

But, at the same time, how I was spending my time wasn't enough. The clock was ticking, but it was also slowing down.

Isn't it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back everything is different?

Sometimes you don't realize how valuable a moment is until it's gone.

Life is measured not by how many breaths you take, but by the moments that steal your breath away.

The satisfaction of your existence is determined by the quality of your thoughts; thus, exercise caution and avoid entertaining ideas that are contrary to morality and reasonableness.

I don't have to go looking for amazing moments to discover happiness; it's right in front of me if I pay attention and practice thankfulness.

It was the Pogues, Colton, it was my family, and it was basically just being alive on this planet.

That in and of itself was a miracle. The fact that I was alive was all I could ask for.

What was wonderful was a heartbeat, and that was all I needed to keep going and fight for what I believed in.

Pain is an unavoidable part of existence. We all experience suffering on a daily basis, whether bodily or emotional.

This inspiring collection of pain quotes will remind you of how strong and powerful you are in the face of adversity.

Suffering and pain are unavoidable aspects of existence. People want to avoid suffering, but the fact is that there can be no benefit without pain.

We completely appreciate how valuable life is when we conquer adversity.

The following pain quotes remind us that pain and suffering make us appreciate life and our loved ones even more.

Can you envision a world free of pain? We would most likely be irresponsible if there was no sorrow in the world, and nothing would be of worth to us.

However, we learn to appreciate life and everything around us as a result of our experiences with pain.

Breakups, the loss of a loved one, or the loss of a job all make us more powerful and strong because we learn to endure during these difficult moments.

We may actually be strong when we use our survival instincts.

Having a grandma is like having an army.

Knowing that someone is constantly on your side, no matter what, is the highest luxury for a grandchild.

Even if you are mistaken. In fact, especially at that time. A grandma is both a weapon and a shield.

Grandma, as I can see in retrospect, was the one who decided my fate.

And with that, I bid farewell to my grandma as if we'd met at a coffee shop, enjoyed a lifetime of stories, and left wanting more, but knowing we'd meet again there.

When she smiles, the wrinkles on her face transform into epic narratives that chronicle the stories of generations in ways that no book can replicate.

My thoughts were distant from all that I had to suffer. The wind striking my face from the motion I was skating in was nice.

Colton takes my hand while we skate together. Everyone disperses from the circle we skated around like a school of fish. Warm colors of light begin to whirl about like a lava lamp.

The low light was causing me to relax, making me slightly weary but yet attentive.

We skate together, and Colton grabs my hands, whirling me around to the beat of the music, my hair swirling in time.

I felt like a child again. Back when everything was wonderful and everything was going as planned, we didn't have to worry about anything.

Innocence is the essence of a pure heart, and it is what we associate with children. This does not, however, imply that only children possess this characteristic.

We all have a kid inside of us, and it is this child that keeps our personalities innocent.

The world has changed in inconceivable ways, yet this does not imply that all innocence has been lost in the search of practicality.

Even today, we can see this virtue all around us, and if we know someone who holds this asset, we can see how it benefits us.

If we connect innocence with ignorance, we are mistaken. If a person is innocent, he or she should not be considered dumb because this does not imply a lack of intelligence or anything.

It simply means that they are not susceptible to the ways of the world and may remain untouched by any changes.

They enjoy who they are and desire to stay that way. It takes a lot of courage to possess this virtue, and if we can all maintain our innocence, the world will undoubtedly become a better place to live.

We had a Saturday habit of roller skating with Colton and his family after eating burgers at the cafe.

Even when we first arrived here, this was a weekly tradition that I looked forward to.

We stopped hanging together once Colton's father learned about my father's job.

They never told their spouses, but you could read the room by the emotions on their faces.

It astounded me how my father could keep a straight face after that. Even when his closest friend, Colton's father, attempted to persuade him out of it.

After school, Colton and I carpooled home to our families for dinner.

When we walked in, our fathers were fighting. It took me a few moments to figure out what they were shouting about.

Colton hasn't figured it out yet, and he probably never will. I was aware of the secret, and I felt horrible for being aware of it.

I should've informed him about it so he'd understand why our fathers chose to cut each other off altogether.

Colton and I have been sneaking out to hang out ever since. I only hoped Colton's father didn't regard me as my father.

I was not like my father. We shared blood, yet we weren't the same. It stung to see the expression Colton's father would give me.

He was my second father, and losing him was like losing a parent.

When we did see each other, he'd instantly glance aside, as if my presence had reminded him.

Since then, I've pieced together the puzzle that things will only get worse from there. It was difficult to watch someone close to you go.

I wasn't prepared, but I felt compelled to fasten my shoelaces and brace myself for the emotional effect of loss to overwhelm me into a condition of sadness and worry.

I didn't want it to bother me, so I did everything I could to keep going. To hold my head up and fight even harder.

Even though my father would have been the one to feel the loss, I did as well.

For some reason, I believe that in order to be there for someone, you must go through the experience with them.

To be at their side, to experience their misery. Colton's father did not set a good example, which is why I felt the need to fight for my father.

I felt like I had to be the one who would step up on that plate to bear his sorrow.

Carrying my father's sadness, I reasoned, would be the key to saving my father's relationship. I was in no position to repair their relationship, but I blame myself for not intervening.

There are no words to completely convey the influence that a parent has on the lives of his or her children.

For some, dads are heroes who provide and protect, whilst for others, their father is the one who has actually led them from childhood to maturity.

That is why, no matter how old we are, we may never really recover from the death of a parent, whether he died after a long life or much too soon.

In this scenario, my father did not die. But I felt as though I had lost the person who was dearest to me. The one who created me and taught me to believe in myself. My grandmother's son.

He carried on the heritage with her name, but now it seemed like I'd be the one left to carry on her legacy.

Only those who are capable of intense love may also experience significant loss, but their need to love compensates for their loss and cures them.

A noble soul always serves everyone. A noble soul is immortal. It pulls us back together time and time again.

That was my Grandmother's legacy.

We keep dancing to the music, with Colton using his break to pop and lock on the wooden floor, producing a tap dance sound.

I laugh at his dancing skills, and he motions to me, as if it were my turn to bust a move.

On cue, I make a circular motion with my roller skate, allowing it to direct me in an imaginary pattern, allowing it to select how I moved.

My arms hold me balanced, moving to the beat of the music like the waves I've surfed.

I take a stride forward and a step back, as if I were surfing a wave, and the adrenaline in my body begins to increase.

We crouch in unison, facing each other and moving in the direction our bodies wanted us to go so we didn't break.

I'm not going to undermine myself or allow my mind go wild.

I've finished with the spiral.

I'm going to burn the camo I've been wearing for months.

For a change, I'm going to try to be joyful.

While my body reflects, I need to let my mind relax.

Dive in aggressively, dance in close quarters.

I'm quite close to myself. I'm letting go anonymously in the darkness.

This is, I suppose, how it feels to be free.

Your pulse, heartbeat, and respiration are all affected by dance. It's the beat of your heart. It is the expression of happiness, joy, grief, and envy through time and movement.

When you've been broken open, dance. If you've torn the bandage, dance. Dance in the midst of the combat. Dance is in your blood. Dance when you're completely free.

Dancing is without a doubt the most fundamental and universal form of expression. Nothing else can so successfully give outer form to an interior feeling.

I had a pair of roller skates when I was around four or five years old and received them for Christmas. However, because I lived on a dirt road, I wasn't skating up and down the street.

Discipline is like an octopus on roller skates when it comes to talent. There's a lot of motion, but you never know whether it'll go forward, backward, or sideways.

We danced, laughed, fell, and collided with others. Colton held my hand through it all. He never let go of my hand, even as we skated farther away.

The hold we had that united our hands felt interlocked. I was clinging to the only thing I had left.

Someone who didn't take advantage of me, someone I knew if I told him everything right now, he wouldn't let go.

That's why I gripped his hand even more tightly.

A friendship that could never be shattered.

My goals were unrealistically lofty. But that was the only thing that held me together when I was him.

He held me together, keeping me sane, on my feet, and reminded me why I did the things I did.

I was guiding myself down a route that was becoming more difficult to exit due to the quicksand crushing my ankles and forcing me onward.

I saw the light at the end of the tunnel, which motivated me to keep moving until I was engulfed by the light, which I knew would soon beam my past into the future, making everything make sense.

I observe him; how could I not talk about family when he was the only family I had? The light would be at the end of the tunnel, where we would both meet again.

We were in two separate automobiles on the same road, at the same pace, and in the same environment, but what we had in our cars told a completely different narrative.

But I knew that after everything we'd done and been through, they were the days we'd remember.

When we arrive, I would realize we'd gone a long way from the beginning.

And I'd tell him everything,

when I see him again.

Every memory that passed us would be held by the light, and every path we would walk would lead us home.

He was in the car next to me, riding next to me.

When I looked over, he was there, his eyes on the road, his hands on the wheel, directing his car along his life's path.

Everyone was in a car; that was their life. Who or what they carried in the car had nothing to do with who they genuinely were.

Their final destination defined who they were. The trails they travelled were the small roads that led to the larger road that their wheels would soon be riding on.

It was the longer and more difficult route. The car's tires were put on the road that was formed from the smaller roads.

I didn't have to peek over to check whether he was okay. But I had my doubts and wanted to check in on him from time to time to see how he was doing.

I had doubts about my friendship with him. I was afraid I'd be replaced by someone else, and I wondered if they'd be clutched as tightly as I did him.

I was terrified of the 'what ifs' and 'the way I did it befores.' But I trusted him and knew I wouldn't have to face those uncertainties again.

It's more difficult to lose friends who feel like family. I don't believe I'd be able to forgive myself if I ever lost Colton.

I knew that the only way I could lose him was if he discovered all I did behind the scenes.

I hid it from him because I didn't want him to feel obligated to accompany me on this journey. It was a perilous journey, and I wouldn't allow him accompany me on it.

It would destroy him, and I wasn't prepared for him to abandon me. I'm not going to look him in the eyes because I know it will break me from the inside out.

At times, my brain tries to sympathize with me, convincing me that he has secrets that he has withheld from me. It then pulls me back from informing him.

It wasn't a little secret, nor was it anything that needed to be revealed, but keeping it from him made me feel like I had our friendship at my fingertips.

One mistake, and I'd be grabbing for air, watching it float away, farther and further away as if it had never been in my grasp at all.

I swerve across the floor, inadvertently colliding with someone. I lose my footing and fall to my knees.

I glance up quickly to apologize and am surprised to see Miranda.

We both say "sorry" at the same time. Miranda is taken off guard, forcing her to hide her astonished look. Her hands were clutching mine as she helped me up.

Something flashed across her eyes; she was pondering whether to be the bad guy or not.

Her jaw twitches, and she instantly decides to assist me. "Hey, thank you," I say to her, not knowing what else to say. She stares at me with a bored face, swinging her hands lazily in the air. In return, she nods.

It felt strange to see her here because this was not her scene.

"Did you come by yourself?" I decided to ask.

Miranda flinches slightly, but I catch it just in time.

I wasn't intending to hurt her, and she should know that.

"My younger sister visits often, and my parents asked me to babysit. It's pretty stupid, but I mean, it's OK"Miranda says, trying not to sound lame.

I notice her when her parents are mentioned. She was in pain on the inside, so she wraps her arms to protect herself.

I bit my lower lip, attempting to get out of this position, but I felt compelled to stay.

Even though I was in her presence at school, I was standing next to her.

This was different.

I felt like I had the upper hand here, but I didn't want to use it as a means of revenge.

"I don't blame your sister; this place is a lot of fun. It takes my mind off the noise at home "I make a motion with my hands to Miranda to emphasize.

I slowly grind my teeth together, feeling both uneasy and alert.

Doubt ran through my mind; she was definitely going to pull me somewhere and kick the shit out of me.

I'm not sure why I even tried to talk to her when I knew it was pointless.

Miranda blinks, and a new expression comes over her.

"Yeah, it's wonderful to get out once in a while," she replies, her tone nearly releasing the secrets hidden behind her eyes.

I took a deep breath,

"Tell me about it. Maybe more than once in a while would be ideal. It's like though, I'm always pent up."

Miranda slowly tilts her head to the side. Her eyes locked on me, attempting to read me. She was on the verge of letting go, and I wanted to give her a sign that it was alright to do so.

Miranda responds with a hum.

"Yeah," she mumbles beneath her breath, but it's audible to me.

A figure glides to my side as chilly air trickles up my arm.

I turn to find Colton on my right, clinging to the railing to save himself from falling.

Miranda and I both stare at Colton, who is fighting to stand and is on the verge of collapsing. I can't help but giggle at his situation. Miranda sneers at Colton's shaky legs.

Miranda asks, "Colton?"

Colton regains his composure and turns to face Miranda.

"Miranda? What exactly are you doing here? ", Colton asks Miranda, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"What?" "I say aloud.

"Do you know each other?" I ask of both of them, my gaze bouncing between them.

My stomach clenches in anticipation of an answer.

Colton rubs the back of his neck and says, "Miranda will be taking over my second shift. Her father owns the pub", Colton adds to me as he gazes at her.

That clarifies a lot. Her father was a recovering alcoholic.

When I was genuinely astonished, I regained my stance, attempting to appear interested.

Miranda returns her focus to me after looking at Colton.

"I had no idea Colton knew you?" she continues, sounding more like a statement than a question.

"I guess that's why he's considered smooth," I smirked at Colton.

I swear if they were fucking, I'd lose my mind.

I knew his other friends, and some of the girls he fucked, but this was someone I was not expecting to know Colton.

I stifled a giggle that was threatening to burst out. It's a small world, isn't it? However, welcome to the Outer Banks.

Your closest buddy is fucking your enemy, who isn't actually the enemy because you made them so.

Your best friend is unaware that your enemy is only 2 feet away.

I shake my head in bewilderment, trying hard not to chuckle.

"I've known this kid since he was able to walk. We moved to the Outer Banks together", I explain to Miranda, trying to be cautious with my words.

It seemed strange to be mingling with your enemy. I felt obligated to continue since Miranda would never try to further tarnish her name now that Colton was around.

I saw it as a chance to be courteous to her in public. When a small child emerges out of nowhere and hugs Miranda, the tension between us disappears in an instant.

I grin and gaze down at her, the way she clutched Miranda, the striking likeness between the two. I clench my hands slightly, wondering whether her parents treated her the same way Miranda's parents treated her.

When she grinned in delight, though, she appeared to carry a light around her.

A slight grin appears on my face, informing me that Miranda had some good in her life. JJ was yet another positive influence in her life. Even though they hooked up every now and then, they had a close relationship. But I regarded them as friends and wanted them to continue that way.

Miranda walked out wearing JJ's t-shirt when I was at the Chateau. I had to restrain myself from storming at her. If JJ was content, I was content for him. I wanted what was best for him, even if it meant seeing him with a girl.

It was terrifying how our worlds intersected, crossing paths several times. I almost think our paths were predestined to intersect.

Broken individuals often wind up on the same path as other broken people. Intertwining with each other's life eventually, and in this instance, I hope that Miranda opens up to me in the future.

I wasn't intending to push anything on her, but I was attempting to force the feeling that needed to be spoken between us.

We had an unsaid, one-sided secret between us.

A secret that I hoped would bubble to the surface, perhaps severing the hard cords that encircled our relationship and smothering any chance of reconciliation.

Seeing her at the Chateau, the enemy on our side, gave me some hope.

It spurred my original urge to break down the social hierarchy, which I felt was my responsibility all along. Miranda piqued my curiosity.

There was something about her that I knew she was longing to show.

She was concealing so much behind that suffering, and I knew I had to do something to help her let it all out.

In her, I saw myself.

When you see yourself in someone, you tend to draw toward that person. You feel inclined to confront them.

If JJ and Colton saw something in her, I wanted to give her another chance as well.

I was envious of her ability to maintain relationships with both JJ and Colton. Two of the most important men in my life. They were both my rock, and seeing that they were also someone else's rock irritated me.

It's not that I didn't want her to have stability in her life, but the voices in my brain wavered back and forth, attempting to steer me away from being a nice person.

I could tell Colton adored Miranda by the way he looked at her.

I tap my foot impatiently, attempting to muffle the criticism while masking my pity for Miranda.

"Let's go ice skating!" Miranda's younger sister cries, "Come on, guys!" she exclaims, and pulls Miranda and Colton out of their conversation.

She grabs mine and Miranda's hands and pulls us from behind.

I giggle at how cute she looked as she was fighting to pull Miranda and I to the middle of the rink.

Miranda and I exchange glances, her cheeks flushed.

"I'm sorry about her; she's constantly energetic and-

"I understand, anyone would at this venue," I cut her off, reassuring her that everything was alright.

Miranda's younger sister's little hands grab my hand even tighter as she pulls us towards the center.

Miranda has a dejected expression on her face, which makes me smirk.

She was making every effort not to draw attention to herself. It was ironic because Miranda craved attention, so it was fascinating to see that she didn't want it just now.

The lights darken once again, as new music begins to play, her sister grabs my hand and motions for me to twirl her around.

I spin her around and we skate together. I look at Miranda, who is standing there nervously. She wanted to dance, so I took her hand in mine.

When I gently take her hand, she tenses up. I start skating to the music, moving to the beat. Colton comes up and spins her sister around.

The aroma of freshly popped popcorn fills my nostrils, causing me to exhale contentedly.

We all came to a halt when we noticed a light flickering in the distance, signalling that the popcorn was ready to consume.

"We need to get some before they're all gone! Mimi, the popcorn here is my favorite, may we please grab some? Could you please?", the young girl begs.

"Yeah! Let's go grab some! "Colton says in a childlike way, which makes me giggle.

Miranda tucks a hair strand behind her ear.

"One more lap, okay?" Miranda replies.

The small child responds by nodding and clutching our hands.

She draws us all into the crowd, creating a circle around the rink.

I had to pinch myself because I couldn't believe I was here with Miranda and Colton.

Miranda's demeanor was particularly reserved.

I felt it odd that she wasn't her regular self. She didn't have to keep her face hidden.

I was also saddened to see that.

I got a taste of how she was at home. I was enraged, and I bit my cheeks.

How could her parents have abused her in this way?

She kept it well hidden, but not tonight.

It made me feel that this was my moment to demonstrate to her that I would accept her at this vulnerable point in her life.

I wanted to hold her and let her cry on my shoulder, my garments soaking up the salty tears that carried so much grief and suffering.

I wanted to wipe the tears from her eyes and embrace her in my arms, tenderly caressing her face like a mother.

Her parental figures were nothing in her life, and she needed that type of power in her life, an intimate authority.

We all needed parental figures in our lives who we could rush to at the end of the day, knowing that even if we sobbed in front of them, they would hug us with unconditional love.

She needed it, and I wanted to give it to her.

I needed to do something. After all, if that was what I was fighting for, I needed to contribute to making a difference.

I couldn't allow the world's standards draw me away from my aspirations. I was selfish enough to let her strike me even though I wanted her to.

I wanted her to let it all out on me. I didn't mind at all, but only for a little while. It wasn't a healthy approach to deal with trauma.

I was going to tell her about the boxing world that I had gotten myself into.

I was going to train her and be at her side when no one else was.

I was going to treat her the way she deserved to be treated, no matter how badly her words stung.

Tonight, I saw as an opportunity that I would seize. She appeared in my life at a fortuitous time, which I feel was predetermined.

I wanted to claim credit for finally figuring out how to help Miranda, but I couldn't bring myself to do so.

I planned to face this circumstance with humility. I was going to tackle it the same way my grandmother would.

From her, I learnt loyalty and the will to not give up.

Quitting would be like witnessing Miranda's life being snuffed out.

Because I was going through it myself, I didn't have to stand by and watch someone else suffer.

Miranda's expression softens as she relaxes.