Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Good. No, actually that’s not true.”
“I’m proud of you for that—for calling and for rerouting yourself right there. You’re acknowledging how you feel and when you need help. That’s important.”
“Thanks.” We sat in armchairs in his office.
“Joey’s at his appointment with his therapist today too. He doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Is there a reason Joey can’t know you’re here?”
“No.” I fidgeted. “I asked him if we could get our own place.”
“What did he say?”
“Yes.”
Micah pushed his glasses up his nose. “Why does that sound like it’s not a good thing?”
“It is. There’s nothing I want more than to move forward with Jojo, but…he doesn’t want to. No, that’s not true. It’s not that he doesn’t want to; he’s willing to do it because he doesn’t want to hurt me.”
I’d left him. I’d closed him out. I’d told him I didn’t want him. My reasons made sense to me, and he probably even understood them, but it still affected him. How could it not?
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, hands in my hair.
“I hurt him, and he’s scared I’m gonna do it again. Part of me is scared I’m gonna do it again. I always seem to mess things up. I killed his dad when I only meant to make him stop hurting Joey. I didn’t listen when he said we should run. I walked away from him. That’s why I’m here. I need to know I’m doing the right thing. That I’m good for Joey and not fucking up.”
Micah sighed, but it was one filled with emotion and sadness. “You love him. I can see that, but all those other questions, I can’t really answer. Can anyone ever answer them, though? Why are you afraid you’ll hurt him?”
“Because I’m a fuckup. That’s what I do. I can’t even fucking read. I hit his father in the head with a baseball bat and killed him. How can he forgive me for that? How can he love me? But the thing is, I know he does. He loves me more than anyone ever has and ever will.”
Joey was good. Joey was forgiving. He was my world.
“It seems to me he’s forgiven you. The why of it doesn’t matter as much as the fact that he has. Joey loves you. He forgives you. Now, if you really want to move forward, you need to learn to love yourself, you need to forgive yourself.”
My face was wet. Christ, tears were running down my cheeks, soaking my jeans. I was breaking down. I swiped at them, but more replaced them. “How? How do I forgive myself? How do I love myself?”
Because I didn’t.
Romeo loved me.
Mouse loved me.
Olivia loved me.
Darrel cared about me.
And Jojo…Jojo had always loved me, but no matter what, I didn’t know how to love myself.
“One step at a time,” Micah replied. “There’s no magic formula. You can’t wish it into existence. It’s something we’re going to have to work on, and you’re going to have to work on yourself too, but I think you’ve taken a big step toward that today. You were hurting, you were scared, but you called me. You’re here, and you’re trying. Give yourself credit for that.”
“I want a future.” More tears. My chest ached. “I want to love myself.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how true they were. “I want to love myself,” I said again. How could I ever be confident in my love for Joey, in his love for me, if I couldn’t manage to love myself?
“Good. You deserve it. I promise you do, and I think the first step to making that happen is to forgive yourself—for what happened with Joey’s father, for your struggles with reading, for having an alcoholic dad, for hurting Joey, for your mom leaving. Some of those things you had no control over. None of them make you a bad person or unworthy of love. You said your friends call you Hero but you’ve never felt like one. Maybe it’s time you see that you’re a hero to them, that you’re worthy, no matter what happened in your past. You’ve taken everything that’s happened in your life and piled it on your shoulders. It’s time to let go of the weight, don’t you think?”
I couldn’t answer. I was crying too hard to reply, but one word filled my thoughts. Yes.
When I got home, Joey was there. He was sitting in the garden that had seen better days due to the season. Luckily, the weather changes in Los Angeles were mild, so it wasn’t as bad as it could be.
He looked up at me before pulling a cigarette to his lips and taking a drag. Neither of us smoked often. I couldn’t remember the last time I had, but it was always when we were struggling. Seeing one in his hand still threw me because he’d given me a hard time about it when we were younger.