Lost (31 page)

  “Sophie... You couldn't be more wrong if you tried,” she said exhaling deeply.  “
You
were the one we stressed about.  It was you that we worried about constantly.  Steven is just Steven.  He was a good kid who made mistakes, learned from them and moved on.  But you weren't like that.  You were so uptight and almost obsessive about things.  You studied and stressed over having everything perfect all the time and you freaked out if you were slightly less than the best-”
  “No, I didn't,” I said defensively.
  “Yes, you did.  God, I used to try to make you have fun.  I'd dance around the kitchen and try to make you be silly with me, but you never did.  Steven would jump in and spin me around, and you'd just watch us.  Yes, you laughed, but you never joined in and just had fun.  God, you talked about your forever plans since you were a little girl.  You always had a plan.  And if you didn't have a plan you were unsettled,” she said moving to sit on the end of my bed.  “You were an adult by 6 years old, and
that
stressed me and your dad out,” she exhaled.
  “No I wasn't.  I was normal-”
  “Of course you were normal.  I'm not saying anything bad to you, I'm just trying to make you see you’ve always been so driven and intense you used to make yourself sick before exams, or before interviews, or before anything at all that you could possibly fail at.”
  “No I didn't,” I argued again.  “I was never that way.  I was fun and I-”
  “You were fun within very strict guidelines,” my mother smiled. “Sophie, you never just let loose, and you've never just been a person who reacts naturally to the world around her.  You study everything and behave accordingly.  You have called yourself 'stable, professional, Sophie' since you were 12,” she quoted as I flinched. “But you didn't have to be, and we didn't want you to be.  Your dad and I just wanted you to be happy, and we thought being so rigid was what made you happy, so we didn't try to change you after you were a teenager,” she paused looking at me. “But I don't think you've ever been happy,” she exhaled slowly.
  “Yes I have!  I've always been happy,” I defended.
  “No.  I think you've been content.  I don't know if you know what true happiness is.  I don't think-”
  “I was truly happy with Peter,” I suddenly cried.  “I was.  He made me feel things and say things, and be different.  He let me just be myself, PMS included,” I huffed a laugh.  “Peter made me happy, and he was my forever, but I wasn't his, and I don't know how to move on,” I choked.  “I just don't know how to move past the only person, beside you guys that I've ever loved like that.  He was just everything I ever wanted but in a way I didn't know I wanted it,” I said as I forced down the pain in my chest. 

  Whispering, I admitted to my mom my absolute reality. “I didn't even know men like him existed, and then I found him and he loved me and I was so happy.  He was everything,” I suddenly sobbed.
  “Sophie, he wasn't,” she shook her head. “He may have been everything you ever wanted, but he wasn't everything.  He's gone, and you need to be happy without him, because even if you two meet again or even love again you'll have nothing to give him or yourself.  You're too wrapped up in just being happy with him beside you, that eventually you'll run out of your own happiness to give.  Do you know what I mean?”
  Shaking my head, I moaned, “No...”
  “Okay.  Just listen for a second.  I love cooking for example.  I don't do it because I have to, I do it because I actually love cooking.  And every time I'm excited about some new recipe I've made, your dad is happy for me.  He tries everything I make as excited as I am to have him try it.  And though there have been a few gross concoctions,” she said smiling, “Your dad still eats it and tells me it was good, even though we're both gagging it down.  See, he's happy that I was happy cooking, so the food somehow doesn't taste quite as bad or something.  It's hard to explain, but I'm happy when he's happy and excited about something, and vice versa.  If we had nothing of ourselves individually, we'd be bored by now.  Can you imagine what it would be like if I lived only for your dad now that you kids are gone?  Can you imagine what it would feel like for him to know he left for work, came home, and I was just sitting there waiting for him to make my evening happy?  Like if I had nothing of my own and I needed him to make me happy as well as himself?  He would be exhausted, and I would seem boring and uninspired, and that would make
us
boring and uninspired.  But we're not like that.  We do our own things, so when we do spend time together, we're happy to spend the time together.  We're not dependent on each other for happiness.  We
add
to each other's happiness,” she finally stopped as I listened carefully.
  “I worked...” I said pitifully.
  “Yes, you did.  But what else did you do with Peter-
besides
Peter?” She said laughing as I blushed.  “Sophie, you stopped socializing, and you didn't even come here for Sunday dinners.  Steven missed you but you were so wrapped up in Peter you saw nobody else
but
Peter.”
  “But at the beginning-”
  “I know.  At the beginning of a relationship everyone becomes a little obsessed.  Trust me, I remember I couldn't keep my hands off your dad, and he couldn't get enough of me.  But we also had lives apart from each other.  We were still 2 people who loved, but we were 2 separate people.  And I don't think you did that,” she pushed.
  “I was.  I did.  I just liked being with him,” I argued.
  “I know.  Why wouldn't you?  From what I understand from Kim, Peter rocked your world sexually,” she grinned.  “But I also saw you completely disappear around New Years' and that was the last we knew of what was going on until March.  You didn't talk to anyone and you basically ignored us, or always had an excuse to hang up quickly.  We don't even really know anything about your new career because everything was totally eclipsed by your relationship with Peter.”
  “I was just busy, that's all.”
  “With Peter.”
  “No with everything,” I argued.
  “That revolved around Peter,” she pushed back.
  “No...” But again I always lost when my mom called me out.
  “So now you have to make some serious changes.  It's time.  I know you're hurting, I get that.  Honestly, I understand how much this breakup has hurt you, but it's time to stop wallowing.”
  “I'm not
wallowing
,” I said totally offended.
  “You are.  But not in a whiny, I want sympathy sort of way.  You're wallowing in the upset because you don't know how to move past it.  And getting hammered every weekend, acting like a tart to get attention isn't the way,” she said knowingly.  Looking at her, I was suddenly very embarrassed to be called a drunken tart by my mother.
  So I tried to explain. “I just needed to know men still wanted me,” I admitted pitifully.  Crying softly, I hated having to admit to something so weak and ridiculous, but it was true.
  “Oh, Sophie… You shouldn’t need drunken idiots wanting you, to feel wanted.  You
are
wanted.  You’re beautiful and intelligent but you can't see what's right in front of you.  You have a whole life just waiting for you.  You're only 25, so you have time for love still, and you have lots of time to move past this breakup and the pain you're suffering.  But you have to decide to move past it instead of just waiting for it to pass, because it isn't going to.  You're going to feel this for as long as you fight letting it go.”
  “I tried to let him go,” I whispered softly, but I knew I was lying.  I didn't let him go because I couldn’t let him go.  I still loved him and I wouldn’t let him go no matter how much I pretended to move on.  So I asked the question I couldn’t believe I had to ask. 

  “What do I do?  I honestly don't know.  I have no idea what to do to move on like everyone keeps saying to.  Even his sister Kara told me to move on.  She accused me of not being good for Peter- of screwing up his life and his job, which makes no sense by the way.  But she just kept saying to let him go and I wish I could because I hate feeling like this, but I hate thinking of not being with him more...” I finished my confession with a gasp of pain.
  “How about you just start by just taking care of you right now.  Focus on your job and your friends and yourself.  Make
you
a priority.  Eat better, drink less, or not at all I'd recommend, and just make this time about you living day to day well, until it hurts a little less.  Maybe when you focus on yourself and your own real needs a little, you won't feel only the absence of Peter in your life.  Could you try that?” My mom asked taking my hand. And after she spoke it just seemed so simple suddenly, I nodded.
  “Just try Sophie, and if it doesn't get any better in, say, a month, then we'll talk and try to figure something else out.  Maybe you need some medication for depression, or maybe you need to talk to someone about your issues.  Whatever it takes to make you feel even a little better is a good step.  Can you try?”
  “Yes...”
  “And I'm here, always.  I've always been here for you, and I'll always be here for you when you need me.  I'm your mom, Soph.  And I'd do just about anything to make you better,” she finally spoke with emotion.
  “I know you are.  I just didn't know what to do anymore.  I fought with Steven and Kim, and I saw Peter's sister Kara on Friday and I did something really stupid with Steven’s friend Trent,” I said as she raised an eyebrow in question. “Yeah, I was really stupid and it was awful, but I thought if I had sex with someone else I might not miss Peter as much, but it was horrible with Trent and it did the opposite.  I was way worse.  I felt slutty and gross and used, even though it was me using him, but it was awful, and not something that would've ever happened between me and Peter.  So it was just the worst 24 hours since Peter left me, and I didn't know what to do... I'm sorry.”
  “Do you still feel like hurting yourself?”
  “No.  And I never really did.  I wasn't trying to hurt myself, I just wanted to sleep away the pain and confusion.  That's all I was trying to do, I think.”
  “Do you still feel confused?”
  “No, just sad still.  And I'm pretty tired,” I admitted.
  “Okay,” she exhaled.  “You sleep for a while longer and I'll come get you for dinner.  You're staying here and you're not going into work tomorrow so-”
  “No!” I panicked. “I have to go to work.  I swear it's good for me.  I'm distracted at work, and I feel better when I'm working because I'm not thinking about everything else.  I have to go to work,” I begged.
  “I really think you should take a few days-”
  “Mom, listen to me.  I know what you're trying to do, and you've been awesome with me.  You've been great, but I know I'm right about this.  I have to go to work tomorrow, otherwise I get all screwed up thinking about everything else.  Work is a good thing for me.  Please?”
  “You're sure?”
  “Completely.”
  “Okay.  Sleep now, we'll eat in 2 hours, and we'll talk about work later,” she said pulling me into a hug.  “I love you so much, Sophie.  You have been one of the three greatest joys of my life, and I can't imagine a world without you in it,” my mom finally choked up.
  “Ohhh... Please don't.  If you start crying I'm screwed.  Okay?” I asked hugging her tighter.
  “I love you, Sophie,” she said rising from my bed with a sad smile.
  “I love you, too.  Um, I should probably call Steven to apologize for our fight,” I groaned.
  “Not now.  Just have a rest until dinner and talk to him later.  Talk to him when you're stronger, okay?”
  “Good idea.  I think Steven's going to kill me for all the horrible things I said yesterday.”
  “He might surprise you,” she whispered as she walked to my door.   “Sleep, Sophie,” she smiled before leaving me alone.
  Once she walked out my door I immediately slept.  Even though I had tons of things going through my head, and I was overwhelmed and emotional, it felt like the second my mother closed my door, I was sound asleep until she woke me for dinner 2 hours later.
  Before I went downstairs to eat I did work up the balls to call my brother though.  Holding my breath, I was scared shitless, but I called him anyway because I owed him that much for all the horrible things I said to him.  I desperately needed to call him to apologize for being a class-A bitch, but he didn't answer to my relief.
 

  When I eventually joined my parents at the dining room table I remember feeling very small.  I felt young and though I was physically smaller than my parents, I hadn't actually felt small in years.  But sitting down, I remember the strange feeling of youth wrapping all around me as they smiled and started reaching for all the food.
  Looking around the table, I started to laugh cry when I took it all in.  My mother had cooked 4 of my favorite foods all together though they didn't match at all. 

  “And chocolate pie for dessert,” my dad grinned as I looked at him.
  “Thank you...” I whispered trying to casually wipe my face with my napkin before I reached for a huge helping of all my favorite foods.
  “Where's Steven?  He never gives up the chance to eat mom's cooking,” I asked my dad with a grin, but instead of answering he looked at my mom for help.  Turning to my mom I could see she too was struggling to answer.
  “What's wrong?  Did something happen to him?” I asked too loudly for our quiet dinner table.
  “No, Sophie.  Relax.  He's just having a bit of a hard time dealing with yesterday,” she soothed.
  “I'm going to apologize for everything I said to him.  I already tried but he wasn't answering.  I'll call again right after dinner.”
  “Um... Why don't you give him a day or two?” My dad suggested.
  Shaking my head, “I can’t wait.  I was so bitchy.  And though he should be used to that by now, I really want to apologize,” I laughed to dead silence.  “What?  I know I was mean, but I was just going through a bad time, and he and Kim caught me off guard so I lashed out a little.  But I'll apologize and we'll be fine.”
  Exhaling, my dad actually sat up a little straighter before he spoke.