09/24/2001

10/12/2001

Cass,

It's been about a month since I last wrote to you, and a lot has changed. For starters, Mom and Dad are speaking to me again: who would've thought it?! From barely having anything to do with me for year to now speaking to me as if nothing ever happened with you or Mikey. It's an odd thing to get adjusted to, but I think it's going to be the best thing for us all. 

I'm also speaking to Aaron again. I know it's going too end up with me getting hurt again. But I don't care. This past year has been tumultuous enough, i could do with some normalcy. That doesn't mean that I've forgiven him though. It ebbs and flows like the tide. Sometimes he's the only person I want to be around, and other times he's the last person I want to be around. But I feel myself crave him. It's like there are two magnets in each of our chests, drawing us together. 

I can see he wants to change, Cassie. I really can. If you were here, you'd roll your eyes at me  I can practically hear it. I'm not going anywhere. Keep breathing for me. In and out. I know you can. 

Yours eternally,

L

I smile to myself, and I hate to admit how good that feels. Because it feels fucking delicious. Like the feeling of early morning sunlight, or coming home. Just comforting. i pick up the cassette that Aaron gave me last Tuesday, and I pass it from hand to hand, trying to decipher the song names on the scrap of paper he left in the tape. I should really listen to it, mainly to show him that he's not the only one trying to be better: to make more of an effort. 

I want him to know that I want this just as much as he does. 

I put the mixtape into my Walkman, and I lay back onto my bed. This time last year, my room felt like a prison. Like a permanent stain on me, like it knew all my innermost secrets and lowest moments. If these walls could talk, or whatever the saying is. The familiar twinkling guitar riff of Alkaline Trio's 'Radio' blares through my headphones, and I feel a wave of tranquility wash over me. Not like the tsunamis of grief I've grown accustomed to over the past year. He always used to call this our song. 

I always thought it was stupid for couples to have 'songs'. Especially couples like me and Aaron; who always seemed to be ashamed of me when we went out anywhere in public. Like he was embarrassed of being seen with me. He was constantly on edge. But now I'm listening to the lyrics of this song, I get it. I do. Loving someone like me must have been difficult for him. The reassurance I so craved. Me never wanting to lose him until I had to. He's told me recently his side of things. How much it actually hurt him watching us go from childhood friends to lovers to strangers. How quickly my expression changed from one of love to one of hate. 

But you know what? I'm happy we're friends again. Friends? Maybe more? I never want to become just another body on his chart, but if it means I can stay close to him then so be it. Maggie always said he was no good and that he used people. She would know, after all. I'm pulled from the back of my head when I hear a knock at my bedroom door. I go to get up, taking my headphones off and opening the door. It's Mom. 

She looks me up and down a few times before pulling me in for one of her famous hugs and kissing me on the top of my head. She's pregnant, and her hair is tied up messily.

"Hi sweetheart, how are you holding up today? Dad and I noticed your absence at breakfast." She says, worry written all over her face. 

"I'm okay Mom, I promise. You shouldn't be worrying about me." I reassure her gently, and  help her to sit down on my bed. She sighs, ruffling my hair like she always did when I was little. It's a mess at the minute - Aaron keeps telling me I need to shower. It's something that pisses me off about him. I know it's him looking out for me, but it can get annoying. 

"You're always thinking about something, L. Is it bad? If you need to speak to that nice lady again I'm sure Dad and I can stretch the insurance for a few sessions. " Mom starts, but I have to cut her off. I hate feeling like her little charity case, like she has o walk on eggshells around me.  Everyone's been doing that recently. It's like they know my trauma before they know me as a person. 

"Mom. I am okay. I'm going out soon anyway. Aaron asked me if I'll come over." I respond, choosing not to acknowledge the anxious look on my Mom's face. 

"You know how I feel about that boy L. Nothing but trouble. But it's your life, and heaven knows the last thing you need is a life lesson at this point. Just be safe, okay? I love you." Mom replies before leaving me be. I know she has my best intentions at heart but she can be a bit overbearing. Who can blame her though? If I was my mom, I'd worry. I hear three taps on my bedroom window: Aaron's here. He has his Dad's truck too. That usually only means one  thing. I grab my hoodie and a blanket and I make my way downstairs. 

I run to Aaron, and for the first time in years he hugs me. Another good feeling. Is this what coming home feels like?