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“What do I do?” I ask, needing my mother’s guidance. “I obviously can’t tell them. Doing so wouldn’t change anything and would only hurt Lucy.”
“You’re going to face a lot of moments in your life when you’re forced to let go of something you really want. Moments when you have to make what feels like impossible choices. I wish I could tell you these things get easier the older you get, but that wouldn’t be the truth. But you’re young. Everything feels more intense at your age, more overwhelming. But I promise you, the hurt you’re feeling right now will fade. You’ll meet another guy. One you probably never saw coming. And little by little you’ll forget the loss you feel right now.”
“So what? I’m just supposed to go on like my feelings aren’t real. Like seeing them together doesn’t make me feel like I’m suffocating?”
“Yes.” She gives me a sad smile.
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“You know.” She knots her hands in front of herself, her thumb mindlessly tracing the spot where her wedding ring used to sit. It’s been three years and she still does it every time she thinks of Dad. “When you’re father and I started having problems, and I felt like what I was feeling was going to rip me apart, there was one thing that made me feel better.”
“What?”
“I’d write him letters.”
“Huh?” I draw back, having not expected this to be her answer.
“I would sit down and I’d write him a letter. Some were angry. Others were sad. But each one was exactly how I was feeling in that moment. I wrote each word as if I were saying it directly to him. I poured my heart and soul out on those pages. And then I ripped them up and threw them away.”
“So you never gave him the letters?”
“Nope. I wasn’t writing them for him. I was writing them for me. It made me feel better to get it all out, even if he would never read a single word I had written.”
“So you’re saying I should write Alec a letter?”
“If you think it would help. Sometimes we need an outlet. A way to share our feelings without any consequences.”
I think over her suggestion. As crazy as it sounds, I can’t deny that a part of me feels like maybe it would help. Maybe if I could verbalize how I’m feeling it would allow me to expunge some of the anger, jealousy, and resentment I feel toward my best friend. Maybe it would give me the chance to air out my feelings toward Alec without ever having to tell him.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I’m always here if you need to talk. I know I’m just your mom, but I’ve been where you are. I’ve been your age and I know what it’s like to deal with some of the feelings you’re struggling with.” She reaches across the island and pats my hand. “I know it seems like life or death right now, but in a few years this will seem like such a small, insignificant thing that you’ll barely remember it. Trust me.”
“I hope so.” I slide out of the stool. “I’ve got a lot of homework I need to get done.”
“Okay. Well, take your apple with you and if you need to talk more, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks again, Mom.” I lean down and snag my book bag off the floor before picking up the plate of apples.
“I love you, Hope.”
“Love you too.”
