Coming Home

Twenty-Nine

The news of my mother's unexpected public confession spreads quickly throughout the small town, suddenly becoming the number one topic of conversation for literally everyone and their mother, just like the initial rumors had all those years ago. While the haste with which gossip travels from host to host in this place has always been one of those things that I wish were different, I guess I can deal with it this time; at least the truth has finally been spoken.

With the entirety of the townspeople buzzing about our family, and especially about a particular incident, I'm sure that Mom's announcement was not well-received by my father. I can't say for certain, as I have not attempted to seek him out and ask how he's feeling about being the butt of the rumors going around, but it's a likely assumption. Not that I really care how he's coping with it, though. Honestly, I couldn't be bothered to spit on the man if he were on fire; he definitely deserves whatever consequences are coming his way.

And me?

I can't exactly put into words how I've been doing over the last few days. I'm a messy whirlwind of conflicting emotions, my heart and my head battling with each other at every given opportunity. It's almost as if I don't even know how to feel, like my brain is on standby, waiting for someone else to make the decision for me or something. And my heart is following its lead. And in the meantime, until a verdict can be made about precisely what I should be doing or feeling or not doing or not feeling or whatever... there's a storm brewing inside of me, raging unrestrained and almost incomprehensible in its fury. I'm feeling everything and nothing all at once.

If I'm being honest, this is an even more challenging situation to deal with than the initial incident had been.

I know that probably doesn't make any sense. It's irrational and illogical and inexplicable... Truthfully, it's likely even remotely idiotic. Ignorant. Ridiculous. But back then, I knew exactly how to feel without questioning it. I was sad, angry, and scared. Betrayed. Lost. That's just the beginning of the laundry list of overwhelming emotions I'd felt at the time, and they all seemed to bombard me almost simultaneously. I felt them all profoundly and with every fiber of my being, and the feelings seemed to perfectly fit the situation.

And now? Sure, I feel relieved. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, like I can finally breathe again. Like I can walk around my hometown and not feel like a complete outcast. But still, I feel... almost as if I'm reliving those moments from the past all over again. Like the wounds that had taken years to heal have been mercilessly tugged at, scratched and torn, and chewed on until they were once again bleeding me dry. They're festering like the worst kind of infection; it's like the pain has come back with a vengeance just to see how much damage it can cause this time.

I don't know if that's normal.

But I do know that it scares the hell out of me.

Trying desperately to focus solely on the good that has come from this whole ordeal, I force myself to concentrate on the fact that my truth has finally been told. It's like a brilliant light has finally been switched on, and all those who had been previously blinded by malicious rumors can finally see the truth about what happened. The truth about me. And the error of their ways for believing such vicious words about the traumatizing situation that has scarred me for life. For turning their backs on me when I needed them.

See? There I go, filling in the gaps with the negatives once again.

Because of my inability to contain my emotions and maintain a semblance of composure, I've basically locked myself in my Gran's house since my mother's admission in the center of town those days ago. My phone has been ringing incessantly, and I'm pretty sure there have been several visitors at my door; luckily for me, Kelli has been great at sending uninvited guests away while I try to sort myself out.

And Levi?

I hadn't realized how incredibly patient and understanding someone could be until my world was once again tipped on its axis. He hasn't pushed me to open up to him and has wholly respected my wishes to have a bit of time alone. He's been completely supportive even when I've tried many times to push him away, offering me a feeling of consolation through his short yet meaningful text messages. He has this incredibly endearing way of letting me know he'll be here for me whenever I'm ready to let someone in.

It's slightly intimidating, you know? To have someone care about you so deeply like that? That you can literally ignore them while dealing with the emotional turmoil you're suffering through, and they'll just be waiting patiently for you to open up to them. Honestly, I hadn't realized that people like that existed until now. Until Levi Hutchins.

Sighing to myself, I retrieve my phone from the bedside table, searching through the multitude of messages I've received over the course of the last few days. I don't bother to open a single one of them, mindlessly scrolling until I come across a conversation with Levi's name as the header. My thumb hovers over his name for several moments, my hesitation making me feel entirely uneasy about even thinking of responding. However, before I can talk myself out of it, I tap the screen and hastily type out a short message. My thumb hits the send button before my brain can catch up, and just as panic is about to settle into my bones, the phone vibrates in my hand.

A new message from Levi.

My body stiffens as I debate whether or not to read the text, my heart practically screaming at me to respond to him immediately. As confused as I am about most things in my life right now, I know one thing is certain: I don't intend to screw things up with Levi this time around.

And so, taking a deep breath, I open his message, my lips curling upward and my heart practically melting at the three words lit up on my screen.

I'm still here.