Trashed and Scattered

Lexi sat cross-legged in her bed, scribbling endless strings of thoughts onto a partly creased and crooked piece of white paper. She’d been at it for a while, trying her best to compile her twirling young mind into something conherent. Something meaningful.
Every time she’d feel as though she was finally making headway through the infinite explanations she had to spare, she’d hit a dead end. Crumbled balls of her previous attempts lay scattered around like corpses. She was out of her league with the world as it had been presented. Her mind was plagued with youth that made it impossible to make sense of anything she thought and anything she felt. But nevertheless, she did her best to muddle through. She owed him an attempt at the very least.
I know it’s hard to understand...It’s even harder to explain. But I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. I think it’s because I made a new friend and her brother’s name is James. He doesn’t go by Jimmy, he goes by Jamie...But every time I hear it, it makes me think of you. Jamie wouldn’t have suited you, but I’m still curious why it isn’t your nickname.
It doesn’t matter...I know that. This is my ninth letter to you, and I’m rambling now. I think that it’s because I’m sorry. And I’m sad. Every day since I left...I’ve been really sad. I know it’s because I miss you. I don’t think that I’ll ever stop. And then that makes me sad too. I wonder if you’re sad...
She sighed to herself, shaking her head as her thoughts consumed her with grief. As an instinct, she scrounged at the edges of the paper and brought it into a dissatisfied ball in her fist. She tossed it to the floor with the regret of the world hanging in the balance.
“Pey?” her dads voice bellowed from her doorway.
She looked up from her worries in time to see his head dart around her half-opened door. His smile faded quickly when he saw the frustration painted on his beautiful daughter’s face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked coolly.
His eyes glided from Peyton’s green eyes down to the floor, littered with papers. It was a familiar scene, just like the guilt that followed next. Both within himself and within his young daughter.
“What are you writing?” he asked, though he knew.
They’d been gone for quite some time and he knew that the distance from her friend had weighed heavily on her. She’d spoken a lot of the boy next door at first but as he slowly slipped from conversation, Dan knew that Peyton’s struggle had only grown worse. She never talked about the big things—which, he supposed, was partly his fault. She’d once been so carefree about her vocalization of her latest qualms, but now she was locked down. A Fort Knox of preteens as it were.
“Nothing,” Lexi sighed, leaning her back against the wall.
Dan smiled sympathetically, letting himself into her room and taking up a seat at the edge of her bed.
“A letter?” he guessed.
She simply shrugged.
”Who is it to?” Dan dared to ask. “Wiley?”
”Yeah,” she whined, “but I can’t get it right. I have so much to say...but it just comes out wrong.”
Dan frowned, “Peyton, Baby, it’s been two years...I’m not sure what there is to say.”
Peyton wasn’t surprised to hear her fathers stance on the matter. It was one that had echoed in her own young mind too. It was what he’d instilled in her since the day she learned they’d never return to California; that the life they’d once lived was nothing more than a distant memory. She’d put off telling Wiley about it, daring to hope that her father would change his mind. But after the world had turned one too many times, she’d missed her window.
“I should say something,” Lexi insisted quietly. “Maybe he’d just be happy to hear from me at all.”
”Maybe,” Dan nodded, treading carefully. “Or maybe it might hurt him. He may have moved on with his life, P. The way you’ve moved on with yours.”
Lexi hardly felt that making a few loose friends and maintaining a high grade point average was moving on. It was, in essence, the same type of life she’d led before. The only differences were that her skin hadn’t been beaten open by her mother and that Wiley wasn’t around to enjoy the newfound freedom with her. She only longed for one half of that equation. It was a longing that hadn’t relented in its pressing need to be acknowledged. She wanted so badly to hear his voice again. But she’d never quite worked up the courage to call—she didn’t even know if he was where she’d left him.
“You wouldn’t want to hurt him, would you?” Dan eased.
Lexi gasped, as if the very insinuation lacerated her soul, “Of course not.”
“Then maybe you should let it be,” he frowned, patting his daughter’s knee. “Maybe it’s best to leave that behind.”
”You always say that,” Lexi grumbled.
He nodded, “Dads know best.”
Somewhere inside the angst, Peyton found venom swirling. She wanted to berate her father; if dads knew best, then why did he let her endure such unfathomable pain? Why had it taken so long for him to intervene? Was that, too, because he knew best?
But she was anxious about losing control. She’d worked so hard to make peace with the life her father had given to her; she didn’t want to risk muddying the waters. So, as always, she said nothing. She let her father convince her that to open the past meant to unleash a hell they’d both run from. Wiley was just another causality.
”You’ll forget about him one day,” Dan assured his pained daughter. “I promise it won’t always feel like you’re missing something.”
Peyton nodded, instantly losing her courage. The desire to reach out to Wiley faded out with her father’s descending silhouette.
“Dad?” she cracked, catching him in the doorway.
He spun around, curiosity nipping at his ears.
”What if I love him?” she asked, embarrassed of her own heart. “Will it still get easier if I love him?”
Dan accidentally scoffed, “Love?”
She nodded.
”Like the way I love you?”
She shook her head, too ashamed to meet his gaze.
“You’re too young to love anyone that way, Peyton. You’re confusing yourself now.”
She sighed, “But what if I really do, Dad? I feel like I do...What if he’s my soul mate?”
”Soul mates aren’t real,” he said firmly.
He’d believed Allison was his soul mate once; and he’d seen what kind of horror blind love could inflict onto the world. He refused to let Peyton fool herself with old wives tales of romance and self-sacrifice. She needed to be stronger than that.
“Oh,” was all Lexi said.
”One day you’ll meet someone,” Dan tried with more warmth. “And you’ll know what love is. But I don’t think you could find it at eleven, Peyton. And certainly not at thirteen. Don’t look for things where you can’t find them.”
She nodded, “Okay, Dad.”
The truth was that Wiley occupied Lexi’s every waking thought. His laugh, his brilliant eyes...more importantly, the way he made her feel. About life, about the world, about herself. There had never been anyone that had adored her so recklessly; so fully. And if that wasn’t love, Lexi wasn’t sure she’d ever find it.
“Dinners almost ready,” he told her, tapping at her door twice. “Come down soon, okay?”
”Sure,” she tried to smile.
Once her father had left her, she gathered up her crumpled thoughts and lingered over the trash can. There would never be enough words in the universe to explain to Wiley what she’d been through... what she’d made of her life. She wanted to tell him that she was sure she loved him; that she’d had a lot of time to think about it and that was the only thing of which she was certain.
But perhaps her father was right. She didn’t want to hurt him; she didn’t want to risk dismantling any new normal Wiley had created for himself. Maybe just this once, her dad knew best.
So she threw her thoughts away.

Notes

Forgive me for any typos. Wrote this shit on my phone.

xx