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“First off, screw you, Gray. You know how many times I’ve attempted to share my money with you, and you reject it every single time out of some misguided sense of pride.”
Begrudgingly, I had to admit he was right. If Remy had his way, he’d have built Vi and me a mansion wherever we desired. He’d gladly foot the bill for her to attend private school, college, even law school. He’d buy her a damn pony if she so much as hinted at wanting one. I just couldn’t bring myself to accept.
Why?
Maybe he had a point. I’d convinced myself that it would be taking the easy way out if I allowed Remy to help alleviate our financial burdens. That I didn’t want to take advantage of my friend, even though the sums we were talking about were less than what he earned in a single day. I also justified it to myself by believing that enduring hardships was simply part and parcel of life.
Why couldn’t I accept the help? Maybe because, as painful as it was to admit, Remy spoke the truth. All my guilt and shame surrounding Colt had been channeled into ensuring that Violet had a better life than he did. I didn’t want her lack of parents to affect her the way it had him. It was my personal mission to make sure she experienced the love and security neither of us had as children. But was working myself to death and constantly being exhausted the right way to do that? It seemed so, at least to my brain that still believed I didn’t deserve to find happiness after the pain I had caused Colt.
Which is so stupid. He’d clearly moved on. Sure, it may have destroyed him initially—his drunken phone call still haunting me on sleepless nights—but he emerged with his break up album about how much he hated my guts winning a Grammy, which catapulted him into the life he had always wished for. And while he mostly kept his personal life under wraps, there were enough pictures of him getting cozy with a high-profile OnlyFans star to indicate I’d only been a blip on his radar.
“And secondly,” Remy pressed on, “that’s precisely what I’m getting at here Gray. Helping others is exactly what you should be doing. It’s what you’ve always aspired to do. You were pursuing a career in psychology for heaven’s sake. But, ever since you lost Colt, you’ve given up that dream. It’s as if you believe that because you couldn’t help him, then you don’t deserve the opportunity to live your life the way you’d planned.”
“Okay, I hear what you’re saying,” I sighed. “But, still. Going back to college isn’t feasible right now. And not just because of the money,” I held up my hand, preempting any immediate rebuttal from him. “I want to be there for Vi until she finishes high school. I don’t want to spend all my free time studying instead of being present with her. Plus, I’m not even sure if that’s the right path for me anymore.”
“I’m not here to dictate your life, Gray. I just want you to think about what I’ve said. You have so much to offer the world. I hate to think of you just coasting through life, never really living, and then reaching the end and realizing you wasted it dwelling on “what might have beens.” I’m not suggesting you quit your job tomorrow, or even this year. I just want you to start living for yourself again. Start discovering what makes Gray happy, not anybody else. Because you’re allowed to be happy, Gray.”
∞∞∞
Remy’s words lingered in my mind. Despite my attempts to drift off as soon as I returned to my hotel room for the night, I found myself still wide awake hours later, staring blankly at the ceiling. His words echoed in my thoughts, prompting me to reflect on our conversation. To contemplate what I really did want.
Truthfully, I didn’t think the college route was for me anymore. After everything I’d experienced, I couldn’t imagine returning to lecture halls filled with naive eighteen-year-olds with no life experience. If I thought about the one thing that brought me more joy than anything, it was being a dad. Raising Violet had brought me more happiness than I ever thought possible.
I think wanted to do it again.
So that’s how I found myself, at three in the morning, immersed in Google searches on how to become a foster parent.
It might not happen anytime soon, but someday, I envisioned opening my home up to children in need of love and care.
And for once, I could confidently say I wasn’t making my decision because of Colt. He may have introduced me to the shortcomings of the foster care system, but my desire to care for others had always been an intrinsic part of me.This would be my first step at finally doing something for me.
Who knows? Maybe one day, I might even decide to find someone else to share my life with.
I wasn’t ready for that yet. But maybe, just maybe, one day, I could be.
25. “You’re Gonna Go Far”
Colt
I’m trying. I promiss. Its not fair to tell you of all peeple how hard the last few years have been. But I guess since youll never actually read this, I can dumb my problems onto you anyway. I think Im depressed. And the stupid part? I havent told anyone. I no, how does that make any sense when I wanted to be a therepist. Im not ashamed of having a mental illniss, but I cant help thinking this is my puneshment for hurting you. It seems only fair I suffer the way I made you suffer.
But I no thats the illniss talking - not me. I need to get better for Violet. So Im trying to push myself out of my comfort zone. I started voluntering to coach Violet’s soccer team. At least for a few hours a week, it puts a smile on my face. I went on a date - it was a fucking disaster. She asked about my ring when she saw the chain under my shirt. I told her I am married because if I ever have another relationship, they have to no youll always have a peace of my heart. She poured a drink on my lap and left.
I dont want to feel this way anymore baby. Im tired of leting people down. I no Vi wishes I paid more atention to her. I want to show her the love you never got. I want to foster other kids. Its what really makes me feel happy. But what if I never get better?
-Gray
Colton
2 Years Ago
The sinking, uncomfortable sensation churning in my gut made its presence known every time my gaze caught on the magazine cover in my periphery.
“What’s with the face?” Willy asked, obnoxiously chewing gum with his mouth open on the sofa opposite my makeup chair.
I opened my mouth to respond at the exact moment my MUA Jenny smacked me with a liberal dusting of powdering, causing me to inhale the particles. “Sorry hon!” she exclaimed as she rushed to grab me a bottled water and some tissues.
Coughs wracked my slight frame as my lungs burned from the foreign substance, unused to this kind of abuse as I’d long since given up smoking weed to mask my anxiety. Unfortunately pot was a sure fire way to wreck my vocal chords. Now I did adult things like therapy and meditation. Rockstars of old that I worshiped growing up would be laughing at me from their graves for being a “self-involved pussy.”
