Paper Bride ✔️ (Book 4 - DP Series - COMPLETE)

38. Welcome Home

The song posted is one of my all-time favorites. Enjoy!

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The ride home is every kind of pleasant all stuffed into a single moment. Seth has his fingers woven into my own as he brushes his thumb over the sensitive skin near my wrist. Hip-hop tunes filter in as background noise, and my chest feels full of contentment. Once again, he's got the window down, so conversation is basically impossible. It's like a hurricane in here, but my hair couldn't possibly get any wilder, so I just let it be. I'm happy to sit in these whirlwinds of bliss.

It's almost incredible to look at where my life is right now. I've lost my mom, and yet, I feel full. I wish I could say that the pain is gone. I wish I could say that I'm simply happy for my mom and that's all that matters. But that would be a lie. I hurt. Badly. I want to rip my mom's angel wings off and force her back to earth. But then again, that would be unfair and highly selfish. So, I'll let her live on in eternal splendor while I hold tight to this new happy that seems to be birthing between Seth and me.

I've been very wrong about us for so long. I assumed that intimacy was all we needed. I looked at the problems in our lives and thought that if we could just touch, kiss, and physically love each other, then we could erase the damage. What a stupid misconception. Love is not about sex. That's what the media tries to teach us. They want that to be the ultimate prize in a relationship or the ultimate prize of life. It's not. Sex doesn't make things better. Physical intimacy doesn't fix brokenness.

It's the emotional level that's important. We experience things so much more powerfully when feelings are involved. A skinned knee is nothing in comparison to the pain of a shattered heart. I'd rather bleed to death than fall into the dark pit of depression and have to live on forever in internal misery.

People speak of hell as being a place of fire and endless torment. I believe it. But, I expect it to be so much more than that. I expect it'll be every level of pain possible: physical, mental, spiritual, emotional. I imagine hell as being a thirsty tongue eager for just one measly droplet of water, an empty stomach that can never be filled, a cloud of gloom seeping through every crevice of your soul. That would be hell. And for a while there, I truly felt as though I was living inside of earth's version of it. I just can't believe it took the death of my mother for me to get my head on straight. I guess hitting rock bottom will do that to a person. It must have been the landing that woke me up.

She died and suddenly I can let go of my fear and be free. I am free to live and love the way I've been aching to for so long. I can act like a fool and I can say what I want because there is no fear of things getting worse. Maybe it's because I feel entitled to it. Like, people understand that if I act a little crazy it must be due to my mom's passing. Maybe I was willing to use that as an excuse, but truthfully, I think I just realized the importance of living. Truly living. It's so much bigger than just a few arguments and misunderstood feelings.

Even in my mom's death, she was teaching me a lesson...

Fix your problems before it's too late.

I lean back into my seat, cherishing the sensation of Seth's fingers squeezed between mine. My eyes drift shut as satisfaction settles into place, bringing with it a wave of weariness. A bed would be delightful, but I've been playing with a new possibility over the last few days, and if I want to make that possibility a reality, then I've got work to do when I get home. No sleep tonight.

We pull into our driveway a few minutes later. The streets are quiet by now, most people home enjoying dinner, but I like the sound of silence sometimes. Stepping out of Seth's truck, I pause to glance up at the star-sprinkled sky. I wouldn't mind spotting a shooting star right now, just something to tell me that life is bigger than me.