Closer to the Edge
Page 67
Each of these women lived through their own version of hell and they came out on the other side happier than they’d ever been. I thought for sure they would tell me I’d made a mistake and try to get me to see that, through all the pain and loss, it was still possible to forgive and forget, but they did none of those things. They simply stood by my side, told me their stories over many bottles of wine and left me alone with my thoughts. Instead of pushing me to talk or asking questions, they each let me know in their own way that they were here for me if I needed them, and they have no idea how much it means to me. I needed to forget about my life for a little while, but I know I can’t push it out of my mind forever. Sitting here under the stars, listening to Layla sing about love and loss just reminds me that our week is coming to an end and the real world awaits back home.
Before I left, I’d contacted a real estate agent about selling the house, convinced that leaving California was the only way I would ever heal. I didn’t know where I wanted to go and I knew I’d miss Garrett, Parker and Annie, but I wasn’t sure I could stay there any longer. There were too many awful memories wrapped up in that place and sometimes I wasn’t sure I’d survive one more day there. When I think about moving now, after I’ve had some time away, I break out in a cold sweat and my hands start to shake. As much as I don’t want to think about Cole, I can’t help it. He was my whole world for so long and it’s impossible to push him out of my mind completely. Everything I do reminds me of him in one way or another. Some of the memories are good and some of them are bad, but they are always there and they refuse to leave.
I don’t know the first thing about forgiveness. I thought I did considering how I was able to move on after my mother died and make something of myself, never once hating her or cursing her for what she did. I realized in the last few months of therapy, however, that I never really forgave her for not being the mother I needed her to be. I simply pushed her out of my mind and vowed to never, ever be like her. I didn’t go to her funeral and I never said good-bye. I never told her I forgave her; I just walked away and started over, assuming that forgetting was the same as forgiving.
I told Cole I was tired of taking care of everyone else’s problems and, while that’s sometimes true, it’s also who I am and what I was meant to do. I can’t change that anymore than Cole can change who he is. He’s strong and he’s stubborn, protective and trusting. He believes there’s good in everyone and he would do anything for the people he loves. He broke my heart, but he also put it back together again when I thought I’d lost everything after our son died. He gave me hope and he reminded me that life is worth living. He knows what he did was wrong and I know he hates himself for the way everything turned out. I can’t stand the thought of him living the rest of his life like that, torn between his family and me and wishing he would have chose differently. I wonder if I’d had a mother who did everything she could to protect me, everything she could to keep me safe from harm through the years, someone who I thought had never lied to me my entire life, if I would have listened to every word she spoke and believed her wholeheartedly, as well. If I had a mother like that, who actually cared about me, I wonder if I would have been able to see through her lies and trust the person I was in love with instead of her.
Layla speaks into the microphone, telling the crowd she’s going to try out a new song she just wrote and she hopes everyone likes it. Even with hundreds of people sitting on the lawn in front of us on blankets and folding chairs, I swear she looks right at me when she tells everyone the name of the song.
“This one’s called Closer to the Edge and I hope y’all like it.”
The crowd goes wild, screaming and clapping as the drummer behind Layla counts them out and the guitar player joins in. It’s a slow, haunting melody and my heart starts beating faster when Layla’s beautiful voice echoes all around us.
You had it all
But you threw it away
I lost myself
Can you show me the way
I tried to forget
I tried to move on
I’m at the brink and now I’m looking down
I see all the mistakes and the things we left unsaid
Now I’m closer to the edge
You say you’re sorry
Maybe one day I’ll believe you
You tell me you love me
Maybe one day is now
I tried to forget
I tried to move on
I’m at the brink and now I’m looking down
I see all the mistakes and the things we left unsaid
Now I’m closer to the edge
Our story is never ending
Even through the pain and tears
We’ll find our way back to each other
We’ll forgive and forget and make it better
I’m closer to the edge of letting go
I’m closer to the edge of loving you
I’m closer to the edge and falling fast…
Will you be there to catch me?
The roar of the crowd when the song ends startles me, so lost in Layla’s words that I forgot where I was. I forgot about all the reasons walking away was a good idea. The only thing going through my mind right now is that I wish Cole were here. I wish he were sitting next to me on the blanket so I could tell him I forgive him. I wish he was sitting under the stars with me, listening to Layla sing the words I wish I could say to him.
I scramble forward to grab my shoes and my sweater, not really sure what the hell I’m doing. I find one shoe, flipping up the edge of the blanket, frantically searching for the other. I’m about two seconds away from screaming at Parker and Gwen to help me when a hand appears in front of my face, holding my shoe.
Before I left, I’d contacted a real estate agent about selling the house, convinced that leaving California was the only way I would ever heal. I didn’t know where I wanted to go and I knew I’d miss Garrett, Parker and Annie, but I wasn’t sure I could stay there any longer. There were too many awful memories wrapped up in that place and sometimes I wasn’t sure I’d survive one more day there. When I think about moving now, after I’ve had some time away, I break out in a cold sweat and my hands start to shake. As much as I don’t want to think about Cole, I can’t help it. He was my whole world for so long and it’s impossible to push him out of my mind completely. Everything I do reminds me of him in one way or another. Some of the memories are good and some of them are bad, but they are always there and they refuse to leave.
I don’t know the first thing about forgiveness. I thought I did considering how I was able to move on after my mother died and make something of myself, never once hating her or cursing her for what she did. I realized in the last few months of therapy, however, that I never really forgave her for not being the mother I needed her to be. I simply pushed her out of my mind and vowed to never, ever be like her. I didn’t go to her funeral and I never said good-bye. I never told her I forgave her; I just walked away and started over, assuming that forgetting was the same as forgiving.
I told Cole I was tired of taking care of everyone else’s problems and, while that’s sometimes true, it’s also who I am and what I was meant to do. I can’t change that anymore than Cole can change who he is. He’s strong and he’s stubborn, protective and trusting. He believes there’s good in everyone and he would do anything for the people he loves. He broke my heart, but he also put it back together again when I thought I’d lost everything after our son died. He gave me hope and he reminded me that life is worth living. He knows what he did was wrong and I know he hates himself for the way everything turned out. I can’t stand the thought of him living the rest of his life like that, torn between his family and me and wishing he would have chose differently. I wonder if I’d had a mother who did everything she could to protect me, everything she could to keep me safe from harm through the years, someone who I thought had never lied to me my entire life, if I would have listened to every word she spoke and believed her wholeheartedly, as well. If I had a mother like that, who actually cared about me, I wonder if I would have been able to see through her lies and trust the person I was in love with instead of her.
Layla speaks into the microphone, telling the crowd she’s going to try out a new song she just wrote and she hopes everyone likes it. Even with hundreds of people sitting on the lawn in front of us on blankets and folding chairs, I swear she looks right at me when she tells everyone the name of the song.
“This one’s called Closer to the Edge and I hope y’all like it.”
The crowd goes wild, screaming and clapping as the drummer behind Layla counts them out and the guitar player joins in. It’s a slow, haunting melody and my heart starts beating faster when Layla’s beautiful voice echoes all around us.
You had it all
But you threw it away
I lost myself
Can you show me the way
I tried to forget
I tried to move on
I’m at the brink and now I’m looking down
I see all the mistakes and the things we left unsaid
Now I’m closer to the edge
You say you’re sorry
Maybe one day I’ll believe you
You tell me you love me
Maybe one day is now
I tried to forget
I tried to move on
I’m at the brink and now I’m looking down
I see all the mistakes and the things we left unsaid
Now I’m closer to the edge
Our story is never ending
Even through the pain and tears
We’ll find our way back to each other
We’ll forgive and forget and make it better
I’m closer to the edge of letting go
I’m closer to the edge of loving you
I’m closer to the edge and falling fast…
Will you be there to catch me?
The roar of the crowd when the song ends startles me, so lost in Layla’s words that I forgot where I was. I forgot about all the reasons walking away was a good idea. The only thing going through my mind right now is that I wish Cole were here. I wish he were sitting next to me on the blanket so I could tell him I forgive him. I wish he was sitting under the stars with me, listening to Layla sing the words I wish I could say to him.
I scramble forward to grab my shoes and my sweater, not really sure what the hell I’m doing. I find one shoe, flipping up the edge of the blanket, frantically searching for the other. I’m about two seconds away from screaming at Parker and Gwen to help me when a hand appears in front of my face, holding my shoe.
