Alex
Dear Nobody,
It's quiet.
Too quiet.
And for the last forty minutes it's been nothing but.
Twenty since Elias left me in his room to go on a walk to talk to his mom.
Forty since the door slammed shut to an eerily quiet conversation Elias and Dan had outside.
It's almost like the hush after a hurricane. That moment where you step outside, stare up at an unclear sky wondering if it's over, completely in the dark of whether you've cleared the storm or just ended up in the center of it.
Too quiet.
Too calm.
And anything but safe.
I don't think anyone ever gets used to it.
Silence.
And how truly a scary sound it is.
The kind that swallows every sound within earshot leaving you all too conscious of the high-pitched ringing that settles in your ear making you fully aware of the fact that you're alone.
And this house has been filling from rug to rooftop with this unsteady quiet for nearly an hour. Every nook, cranny, every single room.
It's suffocating.
It closes in on me leaving nothing but the worst things imaginable running through my mind.
And, I can't help it. How my mind works. How it starts running a mile a minute focusing on theories and worst possible outcomes for whatever situation seems to be playing out in my head.
Focusing leads to thinking and thinking leads to thoughts and those thoughts lead to these conclusions I can't stop thinking about.
Like why did Elias seem so calm in the brief minute between him asking me to wait in his room before he went on a walk with his mom and after his talk with Dan?
I don't know what happened between him and Dan. I don't know if I want to. Stepping between the thunder and clash that was the two of them was traumatic enough.
And, I don't mean for me.
Elias was shattered. Angry and hurt like I've never seen before, and I didn't know how to stop it.
I didn't know how to lessen the pain aside from keeping him from making a heat of the moment mistake.
I haven't seen that in a long time. Elias living moment to moment. Pushed to the point of acting on impulse.
Losing a grip on himself.
That's the center of the storm that is Elias.
When he doesn't think about how his right-now decisions will affect his later ones. Those are the points where he loses control. And, I didn't want him to lose control tonight.
That's why I couldn't let him hurt Dan.
Not on an evening that's supposed to be about family.
But at the same time, I can't fully blame him for his reaction. 'Cause if it were me standing there, watching my mom make out with someone I thought I could trust, I'd fall apart to.
Growing up, I believed three massive lies about my parents.
Lie #1- They were invincible.
I thought my mom and dad were, but they were just good at keeping their problems quiet and their heartaches quieter. I thought nothing could shake them. Not marital problems, not financial problems, nothing. Clearly, I was wrong.
Lie #2- Richard and Evie Summers were superhuman.
Back in the day, I used to think my parents could do no wrong. Whenever I got in trouble in school, my parents would tell me they "never acted out" when they were my age. Naturally, I concluded they must be perfect beings. Again, untrue.
And finally, Lie #3- Parents couldn't make mistakes.
At some point in life, every single kid in the universe believes this to be true-until they prove you wrong by making a mistake. They may not know it at the time they do it. They may not know how much a thing means to you or how it will let you down. But whatever it is, the mistake they happen to make breaks your heart in pieces.
It could range from not showing up to a recital or little league game that means the world to you.
Or it could be a dad choosing his boss and job over justice for his daughter.
But that's beside the point.
The point is parents' mistakes can break their kids' hearts.
And, Maria just broke Elias's.
Maybe I'm not in a position to judge. Maybe I shouldn't even be writing about this because what Maria does in her personal life isn't my concern. But Elias is, and every single part of what the two of them did to him tonight wasn't fair. Or right. And walking in on her and Dan earlier completely broke him.
If my parents split up, trying to survive that reality would be one thing, watching them date other people--especially people who I knew, and intimately knew me, would be---
I don't even know what it would be, or what I would do or what I would say, because I literally can't imagine my mom deciding to date my therapist---especially without talking to me about it first.
Elias loves his mom more than anything, the same way I do my parents, but today she hung up her superhero suit and turned out to be just like us.
Secretive.
Corruptible.
Capable of making mistakes.
And tonight's little slip up, was a big one.
I don't know, Nobody. It's almost like if parents can't be perfect or if they screw up in their own relationships, how are their kids supposed to know how to make it work for theirs?
What example do you follow?
I just hope Elias can survive the fallout without losing himself again. He used to be the boy who'd be present one minute, and gone the next. All it ever took was a bad trigger. A memory. A moment gone wrong. And he'd turn into someone else. Someone who's heart was stapled to his sleeve whether he wanted it to be or not. So whenever he took a hit, he took it hard. He still does.
Like I still do.
Are relationships just a series of making it through each other's bad triggers and memories then, Nobody?
That's the thing about relationships. You don't see the wrong that goes on. It's not in the pictures people take or social media posts, so what do real ones that work look like? What people put on for the world to see versus what's really going on seems to be a matter of how good you are at keeping quiet enough to make it work. To get by.
Like me.
And Elias.
Together.
I worry about us at points.
I wonder if we've been doing our relationship right in the first place.
I pretend.
To escape.
To fill holes.
In myself.
All I've ever known how to do is pretend like everything is okay so that other people could be okay.
So other people could be happy.
I thought that a guy asking you to be his girlfriend meant you were doing everything "right".
That just because you were able to be with him long enough for him to ask you to be "with him" meant that everything from the past would just go away.
I've been convincing myself that checking off check boxes off some social checklist somehow made me okay.
Earlier, at the church, I wasn't ready for whatever it was he wanted to tell me. If I could handle it. Or if we could make it through whatever the truth is.
All it put in the forefront of my already uncontrollable thoughts is how much neither of us know about what happened during the silence last year.
Everything we haven't told each other. Every time Elias asks me about what that year was like for me. Every time I don't want to talk about it.
You see that's the scary thing about ugly secrets, Nobody. They're supposed to stay quiet. Most are supposed to be left unsaid. Unread. Unnoticed.
But for some reason, they always manage to scream through the silence.
Begging to be paid attention to.
Banging on the lid of Pandora's box just waiting to be opened.
And it's all just too much, Nobody.
I told you silence is a scary sound. It's scary because whatever follows after it, is rarely good.
But as scary as it is, Nobody, I still need it as my ally. I still need it to hide the holes and hurt I've haven't gotten over from the last year.
I need something to distract. I need something to drown out the quiet. The thoughts. The secrets. The past. I need to get away from that and into the now. This mental digression is spiralling far too Donnie Darko even for me, if you know what I mean. So I'll put down the pen and put a little distance between me, myself, and my shadows for now.
Today's supposed to be a day full of happy holiday fun, and eating, and pumpkin spice smiles. Not sadness. Not secrets.
I'll leave mine here for now,
-Alex
***
Remember what I said about silence being a scary sound? Yeah, well, it's starting to drive me crazy. A whole depressing entry later and Elias still isn't back.
In fact, no one's come back. They could've sailed off to Bermuda for all I know leaving me here in some Shining-like Norman Rockwellian picture of solitary confinement. At least I'd have a good amount turkey, potatoes, and pie to tie me over for some time.
I check the clock to see how much time has passed since finishing my entry.
Oh. my. giddy guinea pigs! It has not only been five more minutes. Is this the Twilight Zone or something?
The only thing missing is a strait jacket to go along with this nice dress I put on. All the more perfect to rock back and forth maniacally to.
Some say, the only thing standing between them staying sane and going dingbat crazy is music.
So, I rummage through my bag, find my phone, and hope some old school Coldplay could help me relax and figure unpacking my bags could help speed up this slow motion passing of time.
I grab a stack of my clothes and open the tiny dresser drawer next to the bed.
I find a pile of random papers with a bunch of scrawlings written on them.
"Dear Jersey,"
Oh my sweet starfish in a perfect storm! Are these-
No.
Yes.
They are.
Original writings of some letters to Jersey. I wonder how much these would get on E-bay?
Did I just think that? Yes. yes you did, Dumb Alex, and you really are starting to sound like Money-grubbing Fan girl Alex over letters that are originally written to you.
Which is a little weird. Even for you. Let's just keep this to ourselves, Alexs.
Now, would it be wrong of me to go through some of these and read them or is it okay to snoop...a little?
I mean, Elias, did tell me to make myself at home, and at home I read whatever I want since it's there. So, technically, that's not really an invasion of privacy, is it?
But, last time, at the beach, I felt horrible reading into one of Elias's journals.
Aah, what do I do?! Snooper Alex is at odds with Guilty Conscience Alex!
Do I follow the route of justice and preserve respecting Elias's privacy or go full on Nancy Drew, blurring the lines of vigilante digging and give in to my curiosity?
Oh, screw it, I give in, what's reading a few of these going to do, anyway. The book's already been published.
Let's see, this one's pretty short.
***
Dear Jersey,
Without you, all I feel is lonely and lovesick, so the nurses say.
And, the truth is, sometimes it gets so "hard", the only way to not feel sick,
is to think of you when I stroke my di-
***
Woah there, Sparky! Too. Far. Too far. I didn't know he wrote those kinds of letters. I can see why that one wasn't in the book.
Too risqué.
Wait a sec', some of these aren't in the book! I wonder if there's anything else here that isn't in the book.
I place the X-rated letter on the bottom of the pile and read the next and hopefully less explicit letter to yours truly.
Let's see here.
Hmm. That's weird. This one's not even addressed to anyone.
***
How do you keep someone safe when you are anything but?
When nothing you've done can be considered good. Would you trust that person with a life? When it's not a choice but a must to give them a chance.
Thrust into the lane of life that "responsibility" as a word was made for. I can't ignore that I'm anything but that.
Never have been.
Carefully I consider whether I can be.
Be different for everything that's coming.
More so for that one thing that's pretty major.
I wonder if I can save her, offering the only thing I can give.
Still Something in me is having a hard time parting from the past,
Giving up the last line of defense my heart held on to-
Everything I have-
Everything I had
With YOU.
***
What is this?
What's so major? Save her? Save who? Who's the you?
What is he talking about?
I flip and read through a few more. And it's only after reading these, when I realize,
I don't think I was supposed to find these.
I know Elias writes stuff. I know that's where the whole Letters to Jersey thing came from, but these are, well, different. What I found.
I used to dread thinking about how much those letters were about me.
How open he was. How quickly he proclaimed his feelings.
But this.
This is worse.
Because I know us. I know the words Elias writes when he writes for me.
None of these letters were included in the book. And, it's hard. They're hard. To read. Because of one very clear thing.
Most of these ones I found.
They're not about me.
His other letters in the book gave me answers. But only some.
The only things these ones give me are doubt.
Worry.
Distrust.
Suspicion.
Everything that's been there, lying under a plastered-on-pretender-smile and I can't help but feel that now I know why. That all my feelings and arms-length approach to Elias coming back have been justified. That I was right to lie in my quiet and stay in my silence to keep enough distance between us.
Because it was there all along. The unspoken truth.
And, these letters leave me asking only one question.
The worst question.
Who is she?
***
(Thank you guys so much for reading/listening! Are you nervous yet? If so, we've got a surprise for you! WE WILL BE POSTING EACH LETTER ALEX IS READING FROM ELIAS'S SECRET COLLECTION EVERYDAY THIS WEEK :) + A BIG UPDATE AT THE END OF THIS WEEK! Kristen and I are super stoked to share them with you! Can't wait to let you guys watch the craziness unfold. You ready?!)
#REALTALK QUESTIONS OF THE WEEK:
Do you think Alex is justified in being nervous/worried? Y/N? Why?
Have you ever found a text, letter, message, etc. from a significant other that they were hiding from you/that you weren't supposed to find?
If you haven't, how would you react if you did?