Winter Love (Book Two)

21 | The Note

SAMI'S POV

Mom,

This is the fourth attempt I'm making at writing this godforsaken note, and I hope you can understand how hard this is for me to do. I don't know where to start this, but I guess I should really start from the beginning, and just lay the truth bare...it's the least I can do to salvage what I feel is left of a once honest and open relationship.

It was shortly after Jesse went back to college that things turned upside down, and my life changed for the worse. I wouldn't have anticipated it, but with the way things seemed to be working out for me - for the first time in my life, I should've been suspicious that it wouldn't last long. To put it simply, I was outed to the entire school. Someone had leaked an intimate recording of Jesse and I, and that was when it all began.

I don't know how it got that point. Let alone when! Its almost as if everything happened overnight. What was once hushed whispers had evolved into me getting punched in the face. Downright homophobic slurs...and it's messed me up. It's messed with my head. You know I never hide secrets from you, but it forced me to! That stupid voice in my head that tells me I don't matter. That no one cares about me. That I should do bad things to myself...

It's messing up my life Mom, and I don't want that! I hope you know that I never intended to yell at you or Jesse, I know you were just looking out for me. But if you didn't know, I want you to know that I'm sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I truly am.

I love you.

P.S. I know you'll find this as soon as I walk out the front door cause you can't help yourself from snooping.

I add the final line with a soft snicker.

So this is it, I think to myself. After three stressful attempts, the fourth try had done the job. All my emotions, my pain, summed up in a small bit of paper because I can't stand what has become of my life.

Honestly, I wish I had the courage to march down the stairs, look at my mother in the eyes and tell her this myself, but it would be too much. I know it would be. So I took the coward's way out. I had to.

The energy has never been this tense between my mother and I. The rare times that I leave the confines of the four walls that are my bedroom, and happen to bump into her somewhere in the house, her eyes wander. Grazing on every surface around me, but never actually looking at me. I've allowed this voice to dictate my life, and now my own mother can't even stand to look at me in the eyes...let alone have an actual conversation with me. So this letter is simply a last ditch effort, hopeful that it will save me from drowning in my thoughts, all by myself, after forcing everyone away.

I fold the sheet of paper in half, placing it on the centre of my bed, before focusing on yet another issue. The day of the dreaded trip has finally come, and I couldn't be more petrified. Honestly, had it not been for that call from Beau, I wouldn't have worn my 'big boy pants' like he'd suggested I do, I wouldn't have packed my overnight bag, ready to spend the next hour and a half driving to our destination, with Jesse. I'd just been looking for ways of how I could waste my days away without feeling like I was barely keeping up with the speed of the gears in my head, that seemed to be working endlessly, tirelessly, the only reprieve being whenever I do fall asleep.

On other news, he had called, just once in the span of the past three days. And in typical cowardice fashion, I just couldn't bring myself to answer. Not because I was upset, no, but because I couldn't stand to look at myself in the mirror from that day. From the moment he and my mom walked out the door, the guilt has been eating away at me since, threatening to swallow me whole. The secrets that my mother hid, the distance that Jesse put between us...it was all rooted in their desperate attempt to look out for me. A fact that I should've understood, even without explanation...if it weren't for that voice in my head. The exact same voice that's been chirping in, telling me I've succeeded in pushing Jesse away - and that's why I haven't heard from him all these days. Or that he isn't trying hard enough for someone he claims to love, to actually be there.

As a matter of fact, the latest communication I've received from him - outside of the initial call, was a text he sent earlier, letting me know he would honk once he got to my place. Something he's never done before...but who's to blame in all this? It sure as hell isn't him.

My poor boyfriend...who has tried his utmost to be there for me. Who has fought for me, even though he didn't have to. Who had to break down the walls I had built, just for my mind to pull me ten steps back from the progress I thought I'd made. For crying out loud he's told me he loves me. Those three simple words, that I had waited months to hear, and confess back to him should've been it. They should've changed the trajectory of my life for the better. They should've validated every bit of emotion I've felt for that man, but they didn't.

These are supposed to be the happiest days of my life, but they aren't...and I'm afraid I can't keep blaming the voices in my head.

I know what my problem is. I've acknowledged that I have a problem. From the research I've done, I should be halfway there. The only step left to undertake, being to get the help I know I need. But why do I feel like this? Why do I feel like I haven't tried enough? Why do I feel like I've given this voice way too much power than it actually possesses?

Am I really fighting a losing battle here?