I sit on the floor of my apartment, legs crossed, a half-packed box at my side. All my possessions are organized into stacks on the floor, reminders of the life I’m leaving behind.
I glance down at a stack of photographs and the souvenirs from my day in London with Oliver. Last year, I was sitting on the floor of the apartment I shared with Matt, packing up my life in a different city, in a different state of mind. I remember the silence in my life there, and how empty I felt when I was leaving it.
Now, the emptiness feels different. It’s not frantic or desperate this time. It’s hollow, a quiet ache that settles into my chest and won’t move.
When I left Matt,I was so broken. But I was so hopeful, because every step away from him was a step I took toward myself. This time, I’m not broken. I’m just sad.
My phone vibrates against the floorboards, and I glance down to see Mom’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hey, you!” Mom’s voice is bright and warm, a little too sunny for the mood I’m in. “How’s the packing going? Almost all set?”
“Hey,” I say, my voice quiet. “Yeah… I’m getting there.”
“I can’t wait to see you,” she says, excitement threading through her words. “Just a few more days!”
I nod. “Mmhmm.”
Mom’s smile falters. “Addison? You don’t seem okay.”
I force a small laugh. “I’m just tired, Mom. There’s a lot to do.”
“Honey,” she says gently. “I can see it. You’re sad.”
I shrug. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” she presses. “I know you, Addison. You can tell me anything.”
“What do you—”
“Do you want to stay?” she cuts in, point-blank.
I blink, staring down at the half-packed box in front of me. My chest tightens. “Mom… you know the rules,” I murmur, almost pleading. “Just for the season. That was the deal.”
“Honey, take the rules out of it,” she says, patient but firm. “Screw what everyone expects of you. What doyouwant?”
I swallow hard, looking at the scattered photos and trinkets around me, at the apartment that’s been mine since October. My chest rises and falls in a way I can’t control.
“I… I don’t know,” I admit finally.
“Addison,” Mom says softly, like she’s right there with me, a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need a plan or a rule to tell you what you want. Just… tell me what your heart says.”
I bite my lip, the answer clawing at me, but everything feels tangled and impossible. “It’s… complicated,” I whisper, the words barely audible even to myself.
“I know,” she says with quiet understanding. “And that’s okay. It’s not an easy choice to make. But don’t let your rules make the choice for you. If you’re ready to move on, then I’ll be at the airport waiting for you. If you want to chase a new dream over there, I’ll hop on the next flight to come see you. Just… think about what you actually want, honey.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, Addison. Always.”
"No matter what."
"No matterwhere," she adds, voice soft but firm.
I hang up, set my phone back on the floor, and stare at the mess of my life around me.
I can leave, walk away like I always planned. That’s the safe option. It’s clean, predictable. But is that living or is it just hiding?
But then staying… that feels like stepping off a cliff. The idea of putting my heart on the line, of risking everything when I’ve spent so long building walls, is terrifying. The truth is, I don’t know what’s holding me back more—the fear of leaving, or the fear of wanting something I’m not sure I’m allowed to have.
