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Sitting at my desk, I pull out a piece of stationary from my drawer then pluck a pen from the cup sitting next to my desktop. My gaze moves to the window in front of me, looking out at the orange sky as I try to gather my thoughts.
My letter to Paul turned out to be very cleansing. Addressing all the ways he wronged me, letting out all the emotions I’d kept bottled up inside was like lifting a heavy weight off my chest and taking a breath of fresh air. So, I thought perhaps writing one to myself could have the same effect. Being open and honest with myself will likely prove to be incredibly hard, but it may be the only way I can see things as they truly are instead of how my shame portrays them.
Dear Lori,
I know what happened, and I forgive you.
You were eighteen and so desperate for affection, so needy for attention, you left yourself vulnerable to a predator. You wanted so badly to believe his lies and meaningless promises, knowing all along what they were. You could feel the heat from the fire, yet you kept walking toward it, because you were too afraid to turn back—too terrified of the darkness you’d be met with. Your weakness was like blood in the water, leading the shark right to you.
And yet, I forgive you.
You didn’t stand up for yourself, you didn’t fight back, you didn’t even accept the reality of what was happening. You stayed silent then, and you continue to stay silent now, letting him victimize you repeatedly with your silence. You chose your survival above all else.
You’ve done everything wrong from the start, and yet, I forgive you.
Did you get that? I. Forgive. You. It doesn’t matter anymore, those things you did or didn’t do. Let them go. Be free. Allow yourself to love and be loved in return. You are not the mistakes you’ve made or the terrible things that have happened to you. You are so much more, and you deserve so much more.
Let yourself be happy, I forgive you.
Love, Lori
Spencer
Elvis starts barking at the pounding coming from my front door, his tail wagging back and forth. He runs to it then back to me. My body is moving slow, emotionally and physically drained from spending several nights on the pullout bed in my grandmother’s hospital room. She’s in a rehab facility now and insisted I come home to get some rest. Apparently, the person still knocking on my door has other ideas.
“Hold your horses,” I call as I round the couch, using it as support as I stumble. “I’m coming, geez.”
Once I get to the door and check the peephole, my pulse begins racing. Lori is standing on the other side. Her eyes red and wet, her mascara streaked down her face. The last time I saw her, she was running away from me again. Only this time, I hadn’t chased her. I wanted her to come to me for once, and here she is.
My body and mind suddenly feel energetic again as I rush to open the door. When we’re face to face, I fight the desire to pull her into my arms. My heart clenches at her disheveled appearance.
“Lori, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”
She shakes her head, wiping under her eyes. “I’m not sure. Can I come in?”
I step back, gesturing for her to come inside. She looks down at her feet as she crosses the threshold, greeting Elvis with a kiss on the head and a scratch behind his ear as I close up behind her. She stands straight, turning to face me. Worry is painted all over her face, her hands fidgeting with her clothing as she shifts uncomfortably on her feet.
“So, I talked to Ashland today. She finished reading Illusions of Ash, and she loves it,” she says.
“That’s wonderful, Lori. So, why don’t you look happy?”
“Well, Ashland and I had a little talk and she made me understand something.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I’ve been getting in the way of my own happiness because a part of me still believes I don’t deserve it. I’ve been punishing and blaming myself for so long, I don’t even realize when I’m doing it anymore. But I don’t want to hold on to all of that any longer. I’m ready to let go.”
“Okay…” I blow out a nervous breath, scratching my head. “What does all that mean? What are you saying?”
“Please don’t give up on me, and don’t let me give up on myself. I want to be your girlfriend. I want us to do all those corny and annoying things couples do. I want to be the person you rely on, and for you to be mine.”
“Really? But you said—”
“I know…all of this absolutely scares the hell out of me, but the thought of losing you scares me more. Despite my best efforts, I fell for you. I love you, Spencer.” My stomach flips from her words, my heart swelling in my chest. She takes a timid step toward me. “Tell me I’m not too late.”
A smile spreads across my face as I shake my head. “I’ve always known you were worth fighting for, you only needed to believe it,” I tell her, pulling her into my arms. “Now, you’re never getting rid of me.”
She giggles. “Promise?”
