The Choice (a Painful Past)

102

I wondered if something had happened with his other friends, or if they had grown apart. Maybe that wasn't it at all though. Maybe he just kept that behind the scenes now.

I knew nothing of his life. I realized that I desperately wanted to know though. It felt like this yearning in the pit of my stomach.

Just to experience something, even through someone else, so amazing, a lifestyle that looked so care free and fun, without all of life's normal, soul crushing monotony.

I didn't hate my life. I just wasn't very happy with it. I had missed out on a lot, staying with Will.

Yeah, I would probably still be taking care of my mom and Ben, probably the other kids a lot, but I would have, at least, had the chance to experience being a kid. Being a normal 20 something year old. Having fun with friends, going out, embarrassing myself by getting too drunk, and meeting more than one guy to spend my time with.

Or maybe I would still be exactly the same person that I was now.

Who was that though? I really didn't have a clue.

Then, I felt something that I hadn't felt for a really long time, once again. It seemed like I was having a lot of those realizations lately. I wanted to write.

I wanted to put pen to paper and put my feelings into a poem. Into lyrics. Into anything that I could physically read.

It didn't matter that I had to be up in less than 4 hours to start my day. The feeling was so intense that I just had to. I couldn't miss this.

Not when I hadn't felt it in almost 7 years.

I grabbed the pen and notebook from beside my bed, and just started writing. Surprisingly, this became a sort of ritual for me.

Every night, as I lay in bed, after getting everything in the day finished, I would get my notebook and pen, and just write. It didn't matter if it was poetry, or a short story, a journal entry, or just notes jotted down that I thought I might use in the future. No matter what it was, I wrote it down.

Sometimes, I would wake up with pen marks on my cheeks, because I fell asleep while writing. Ben had a great laugh the first time that happened.

About a week after that, something else amazing happened. Colby messaged me back again, and I replied again. Then, he replied again.

We ended up falling into a sort of rhythm with one another. Sometimes, there would only be one message sent from each of us. Other days, we would go back and forth a few times.

I laughed at one of his messages, while sitting in the living room with my mother, and she looked up and smiled.

"That's nice to see." She said.

"What?" I asked, already messaging Colby back, telling him that he was an absolute dork for the cheesy joke that he had sent me.

"You, laughing and smiling. Really laughing and smiling though. Not that put on mess that you always do. This is real." She replied.

I stopped typing and looked up at her in surprise. I guess I hadn't realized that other people noticed that I had just been going through the motions for so long.

"It's good to see you happy again. I haven't seen it in a while." She said, quietly.

"I wasn't unhappy." I said, automatically hearing the lie.

I had been unhappy. I guess that I just didn't want to see it.

"Yes, you were. Sometimes, you still are. I know it has to be hard, staying here with me, and taking care of Ben. Never really going out and doing anything for yourself." She replied.

I shook my head.

"No, Mama. You and Ben make me happy. I don't regret doing this at all. I never would." I insisted.

She nodded and gave me a sad little smile.

"I know, honey, but that doesn't mean that you're happy. You have to take time for yourself, like I've been telling you for years."

"Mama, I don't have any extra money. You know that. I don't want to waste any on frivolous things that don't matter. I'd rather save what little bit I do end up getting, in case we need it for anything. You know how I am about money." I laughed.

"I have a little extra, baby. I told you that I can give you a little to just go out and eat lunch with one of your friends, or get your nails done, or even get a haircut. I'll even get you a motel room for a night, if you need a break. I just want you to think about yourself sometimes." She replied, with a touch of annoyance.

It wasn't annoyance at me, though. It was annoyance because she worried about me, and I knew that.

"Denise can do my nails for free, and I know how to cut my own hair. If I want some me time, then I'll just retreat to my room for a couple of hours. I'm okay, Mama. I promise." I said, reaching over to put my hand on top of hers.

She smiled and gave it a little squeeze.

"I know you are. I just want you to stay that way. So, what's got you laughing over there?" She asked.

"Oh, um," I stammered.

I hadn't actually told anyone that I was talking to Colby again. No one. Not Sherri, not Denise, not Ben or the kids, and not my mom.

I didn't really know why.

I just didn't want to share that information yet.

"A friend sent me a funny joke. Well, it wasn't really funny, but it was so dumb that it was funny."

She gave me a knowing look with an accompanying smile. "Okay, well, whoever is making you laugh like that, I like them already."

I didn't know how to reply, but I felt my face heat up and knew that I was blushing. She cocked her eyebrow at me, then moved her gaze back to the show that she was watching on TV.

I cleared my clogged throat and went back to messaging Colby. It went on like this for a while, and I still never told anyone else.

Sam still talked to Ben, on the phone and through text. That meant a lot to me, and I told Colby to let Sam know how much I appreciated it.

Then, I texted Sam myself to let him know, just in case Colby forgot. Plus, it was just more personal for me to do it myself.

Oddly enough, Colby and I hadn't exchanged phone numbers. We still only spoke through Instagram DMs. No videos, no calls, only messages.

Neither of us ever brought it up, but the oddness of it would bother me at night, when my mind liked to overanalyze everything.