Light in the Shadows

absolute peace that I would feel as I watched her deep, even breathing was indescribable.  Yeah, so maybe it sounds a little creepy.  But it wasn’t.  It was beautiful and perfect.  And gave me the illusion that my life had made sense.  If only for a little while.
     
                    So I had drawn her.  I was compelled to try and capture that moment when Maggie was completely unguarded and open.  Some small part of me recognized, even then, that I was hurting her.  That as she swore that she was happy, I had seen the strain my crap was causing. Seeing her sleep helped me create this picture in my head that things were just the way they should be.  Crazy how I had always been able to create the most fucked up justifications for the equally fucked up things I did. 
     
                    My heart thudded in my chest at the weight of what this album meant.  This wasn’t put together by a girl who was putting a shitty relationship behind her.  By an ex-girlfriend desperate to move on.  No, this whole thing screamed at me.  Yelling with a vengeance that I needed to wake up and see how much she still loved me. 
     
                    And there was a selfish relief in that.  I was glad to know that she hadn’t forgotten me, even if I had told her to.  I was such a dick. Because I wanted her to miss me, to long for me, to crave me the way I craved her.  Which was one hundred percent contradictory to the martyred act I had been playing for the past three months.  The reason that I had sent her the letter to begin with. 
     
                    I knew I would never be over Maggie.  And knowing I wasn’t alone in that, that she was feeling it as intensely as I was, made me feel unfairly happy.  Unfair, because I shouldn’t want that for her.  But damned if I didn’t want it all the same. 
     
                    And I hated myself for feeling that way.
     
                    “She came over to the house, not long after you were sent here.  She asked to go up to your room, that there were things she needed to get from up there.   Lisa and I didn’t see the harm.  Not after everything,” Ruby stopped abruptly.  There was no sense in her continuing that particular sentence.  We both knew how much Maggie had been through.
     
                    I continued to thumb through the pages.  Ruby and I remained quiet as I took it all in.  These pictures that reminded me so much of the one bright spot I had during the darkest times of my life.  Of the girl who had tried to save me even as I destroyed her.
     
                    Shit, I was going to fucking cry.  I felt the tears prick in my eyes and I rubbed them away with the heel of my hand.  I squeezed my eyes shut.
     
                    Deep breath.
     
                    One.  Two.  Three.
     
                    Deep breath.
     
                    I opened my eyes, lingering on Maggie’s face in front me.  It had been so long since I had seen her that I couldn’t look away.  But then I flipped back to the front of the book.  And then I saw something that I hadn’t noticed earlier.  On the bottom corner of the inside cover, a piece of paper was tapped to the leather. 
     
                    It was from Maggie.  Christ, she had written me a note.  I wasn’t sure I could read it.  Not when I was already feeling like I had been run over by an eighteen wheeler.
     
                    But I did anyway.  As if I could ever resist her.
     
                    And I was glad that I did.
     
There is more beauty inside you than in anyone I have ever met.  These pictures don’t lie.  I won’t ever forget you.  Or stop loving you.  You can ask me to.  You can tell me to move on.  But I won’t.  And I never will.  Just don’t forget how beautiful we were.  How beautiful we can still be.  Please.
     
    -Maggie
     
                    Ruby had looked away, sensing I needed a moment.   Another round of deep breathing and I made myself close the scrap book and put it on the table.  Looking though that book was like ripping a band aid off a barely healed wound.  Letting the blood flow without even trying to staunch it.  I didn’t know what to do with this fresh round of emotional turmoil that I found myself in.  Maybe I should journal