Please know that letting go doesn’t mean loving any less.
I love you. I miss you. I hope to see you.
-Annalise
Another word and another shot to my heart. I was being beaten down emotionally by words on paper. Open when this, opens when that. I wasn’t just opening letters I was exposing the darkness in my soul I had tried to bury for years.
Tell me how is it that a woman named Annalise could cause me to drive four hours to an address I wasn’t even sure she lived at anymore?
Well, I will tell you.
Fate.
I’d always known that Bishop and I had this bond. I just never knew how far back that bond went. You see, Bishop was always meant to be my B, and I was always meant to be his Vallie. If there was any doubt before, it was wiped clean now.
He’d always been my safe place, and my heart was a home built just for him. Everyone talks about how fate brings souls together, but no one ever talks about what happens when life rips them apart.
It’s up to those souls to find a way back to one another. Every time we tried to find our way back, something got in the way.
Maybe it was the universe’s way of telling us we didn’t belong together. That we had outgrown one another. Our time was up.
Dear Valor,
I’m writing this because, well, I need a favor.
I know that I am in no position to ask you for anything considering everything, but this is important. Plus, you may not even read these, so what is the harm?
There is this boy, a boy who I have looked after for the past few years. A boy, very near and dear to my heart is a part of that hockey world you all have in Chicago now. His name is Bishop. Your dad will love him. He is a great player, with the work ethic of a champion. If there is a chance you read this, look after him, will you, angel? So if by some chance, you cross his path, and I have a feeling you will, take care of each other. You and Bishop will have a lot in common. He is a little older than you, but you share a common issue.
You both grew up without mothers. I know I will never make up for the brokenness you feel inside. I will never heal what I damaged. But maybe together you can heal. He tries to act stronger than he is some days, but I can see it on his face. He misses his mom, too. Take care of each other. Can you do me that favor? Lean on him when you are sad, and let him do the same when he is down. I think you two will be close friends if you do.
I have faith you won’t let him get into too much trouble.
I miss you. I love you. I hope to see you.
-Anna
A blaring horn pulls me from my thoughts. I see bright headlights in my windshield causing me to gasp and jerk my steering wheel to the left. I take a breath, trying to drive and wipe the tears away. I decide that one near-death experience is enough for the day and pull over to the shoulder of the road.
I lean my head on the steering wheel breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. The shock of everything is hitting me full force. My head is pounding with questions, with pain, with confusion. The biggest one being,
Does Bishop know?
Does he know that after all these years my mother was the woman who helped raise him? That the mom I cried to him about was right under my nose this entire time? Does he know?
Was there a possibility that after all we had been through he was lying straight to my face? The thought alone made me want to hurl.
I look over at my passenger seat that is littered with envelopes and letters. I reach forward, picking up one of the few I haven’t read. I rip the envelope open, wiping my tears so they don’t blur the words on the paper.
Dear Valor,
You’re in love.
For the longest time, I didn’t know what love was. I had been through so much darkness. My past was filled with cruel memories. I loathed the idea of love. Then, I heard your heartbeat for the first time.
You brought light in my life I never knew I needed. I was smitten with you, the moment your small self showed up on the monitor. Your dad was so nervous until he heard the soft rhythm of your heart. You’re the reason we both believe in love, Valor Lila.
I hope this man or woman, whichever, loves you the way you deserve to be loved. I may not know you the way I want to. I don’t know what you like, or your favorite food, but I do know what your heartbeat feels like. I know your smile even as a child could power an entire world with light. You are special. You lead the broken home, my angel.
I hope they realize just how lucky they are to be loved by you.
I miss you. I love you. I hope to see you.
-Annalise
Did you love me though? You could have come back when I was older. You could have been there but you chose not to.
You don’t leave the people you love. You don’t abandon them without so much as a goodbye or an explanation. You don’t leave your child to wonder where you went, to wonder what was wrong with them to make you leave. That’s not love.
That’s fucking abandonment.
I want her to say the words to me. I want her to look me in my eyes and tell me why she left. I don’t want these bullshit letters. I need a mom, not this sad attempt of trying to be there for me.
She is going to look me in the eyes and tell me why she left me when I was two years old. Why I wasn’t enough to stay.
I was a swirl of emotions, ranging from sadness to pure rage. I couldn’t hold onto one without the other crashing into me. I was an angry sea of confusion, dark blue, and filled with so much wrath. I was the kind of ocean that swallowed incoming ships and made surfers go missing.
I continue my drive towards the small town of Alton, not stopping until I arrive at the house that corresponded to the letter’s address. I sit in my car, parked on the opposite side of the home just watching like a fucking serial killer.
Bishop’s car is the first thing I notice. There it is. The house he got to grow up in with my mother. A fucking two-story duplex with a wrap-around porch, and those stupid wind chimes hanging from the banisters. I was in the middle of a suburban neighborhood surrounded by houses with matching green lawns and customized mailboxes.
I was tired of waiting, of being in the dark about the person who made me. I wanted to see her with my own eyes. I wanted her to see me. To see the little girl she left behind. I wanted to see Bishop’s face.
My feet move of their own accord across the road. Each step is another move closer to the answers I’ve been seeking my whole life. On the other side of that door is the cold, hard truth.
No one can run from this anymore. We all have to face the music.
The walk up the sidewalk and to the door seemed to take hours. Once I am standing in front of the nicely made door, I hesitate before knocking.
Do I really want to do this? Do I want to risk hearing something worse than silence? Do I need answers so badly I’m willing to sacrifice my peace of mind? Do I want to know if Bishop has been lying?
I chew the inside of my cheek, leaning from one foot to the other on the front steps of this woman’s house. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes to gather myself.