Broken Records | Tayley

Chapter 3: Finding Strength

Hayley's POV

The days passed in a blur of monotony, each one blending into the next. I woke up, took Alf for a walk, tried to eat, tried to write, tried to feel something other than the numbness that had settled over me like a thick blanket. But it was hard—harder than I ever imagined it would be.

The depression was relentless, a heavy, suffocating presence that refused to let go. It whispered lies in my ear, telling me that I was worthless, that I had failed, that I was unlovable. I tried to fight it, tried to push those thoughts away, but they kept coming back, stronger and more insistent with each passing day.

I knew I needed help, but the thought of reaching out, of admitting how broken I felt, was terrifying. I had always prided myself on being strong, on being able to handle whatever life threw at me. But this... this was different. This was a battle I wasn't sure I could win on my own.

One morning, after another sleepless night, I found myself standing in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. I looked like a stranger—pale, drawn, with dark circles under my eyes and hair that hung limply around my face. I didn't recognize the person staring back at me, and that realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

This wasn't who I was. This wasn't who I wanted to be.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I had to do something—anything—to break out of this cycle, to start feeling like myself again. I couldn't let Chad, couldn't let this failed marriage, destroy me.

With a determination I hadn't felt in months, I picked up my phone and dialed the number I had been avoiding for weeks. The voice on the other end was calm, soothing, and as I made an appointment with a therapist, I felt a small flicker of hope.

It was a start. It wasn't a solution, but it was a step in the right direction.

Later that day, I took Alf for a walk, letting him lead me down the familiar paths of my childhood neighborhood. The sun was shining, a soft breeze ruffling the leaves on the trees, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a small sense of peace.

As we walked, I let my mind wander, thinking about the future. It was still hazy, still uncertain, but I knew that I couldn't stay trapped in the past forever. I had to move forward, had to find a way to rebuild my life, piece by piece.

When we got back to the house, I found Taylor waiting for me on the porch, his guitar slung over his shoulder. He smiled when he saw me, and for a moment, the weight on my chest lifted just a little.

"Hey," he said, coming over to meet me. "I was just about to knock."

"Hey," I replied, feeling a warmth spread through me at the sight of him. "What's up?"

"I was thinking... maybe we could jam for a bit? You know, like we used to."

The idea of playing music with him, of letting the music fill the empty spaces inside me, sounded like exactly what I needed. I nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Yeah. That sounds good."

We set up on the porch, Alf curling up at my feet as Taylor and I tuned our guitars. The familiar ritual, the feel of the strings beneath my fingers, the sound of the notes ringing out into the air—it was like coming home.

As we played, something inside me started to shift. The music flowed between us, a wordless conversation, a connection that had always been there, even when everything else in my life had fallen apart. Taylor was steady, a constant presence, and as I looked over at him, I felt a deep sense of gratitude.

He was my anchor, my safe place, and in that moment, I knew that no matter what happened, no matter how hard things got, I wasn't alone.

I wasn't sure what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I was going to be okay.