Find You in the Dark (Find You in the Dark #1)(46)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

I felt like I was living my life in the shadow of everyone’s disapproval. My parents’, Rachel’s and Daniel’s. I saw it when they looked at me. Heard it between the lines of their words. They could mask it in concern all they wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that they wanted me to forget about Clay and our relationship. To find my way back to the person I was before.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Because I was different now and I didn’t want to be the girl I was before Clay. She was boring. Disinterested in life. That girl had never known what it was like to love someone more than herself.

I didn’t like that girl anymore. She was my past.

And Clay, for all of his flaws, was my future. Whether my family and friends agreed or not. And honestly, I didn’t give a damn.

But I couldn’t ignore the gigantic elephant in the room. Clay’s arms had healed after I had found him cutting. I tried not to touch the rough scabs when he held me. I avoided being reminded of that scary place I had found myself in with Clay by my side.

We never talked about it. Not once. There were times when it sat on the tip of my tongue to ask him about the cutting. To find out more about what triggered him. I wanted to understand that dark part of him. Because if I loved him, I had to love every part of who he was. But I was a wimp. Instead I refused to address it, choosing instead to bury my head in the proverbial sand like a damned ostrich.

I had decided to look up bi-polar disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder on the internet one evening while I waited for Clay to call me. I didn’t know much about mental illness, having never known anyone, before Clay, who suffered like that.

When he threw around words like cycles and mania, I had no idea what he was talking about. So I sat myself down, intent on solving at least part of the mystery that shrouded my boyfriend.

A few clicks later and the words started swimming in front of my eyes. Manic and depressive episodes. Heightened mood. Hypomania.

Okay, having had enough of the bi-polar research, I had moved on to the Borderline thing. That wasn’t any better. I skipped over statements that read, pattern of instability and intensity within interpersonal relationships, frantic efforts to avoid abandonment. Inappropriate anger. Suicidal behaviors.

I had closed my browser. I couldn’t handle reading anymore. It was that ostrich mentality again. The less I knew, the better.

Since then, I staunchly avoided all discussions about Clay’s cutting and his mental health. But even though I wouldn’t talk about it, it didn’t stop me from thinking about it all the time. But, Clay wanted normal, so damn it I would give him normal. And that meant that I refused to dwell on the blackness that threatened to engulf us.

Clay, for his part, was trying to keep things even- keeled. He took me to the movies, brought me my favorite coffee every morning. Beautiful drawings and heartfelt poems filled my locker. He was the picture of the considerate and thoughtful boyfriend. We became even more fixated on each other. The physical need to drown our fears in each other was overwhelming.

Our kisses had become almost desperate, our hands less than patient as we sought to erase the nagging doubts that tickled the back of our minds in the hours we spent together. But nothing could erase the truth that had taken root in my mind. That this would all blow up in my face in the most agonizing way possible. I felt like my life was a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode.

I started waking up in the middle of the night. Startled out of sleep by horrible nightmares. I could never remember all of them. Only that Clay was leaving me and there was nothing I could do about it. I was wound as tight as a violin. Those dark hours before seeing Clay again were the worst. I couldn’t sleep for worrying about what he was doing.

I knew this was bad for me. I knew that perhaps my parents had been right. But I needed Clay as much as he needed me. We existed in this symbiotic relationship where our hearts beat and our lungs breathed only for each other.

Was all first love this intense? I remember watching Daniel and Kylie as they stumbled through their relationship, sneering at how ridiculous they were. If only I had realized how hard it was to keep a level head when you were buried deep in these feelings.

I had convinced Rachel to cover for me so we could go away to the cabin. She was not happy about lying to my parents. She felt guilt way too intensely and I worried she’d never be able to keep up the charade. But after days of begging, she finally agreed, even as I knew this was yet another tally in the anti-Clay column. But I needed to be with him, just the two of us. An entire night where we could be together. It sounded like bliss.

As the days got closer to our get away, even my reluctant friends couldn’t deny the excitement of getting out of town. Daniel had asked Clay if he could invite Ray and Clare, and Clay had agreed; much to my relief. I hoped the presence of Ray and Clare would help to neutralize the tension that I knew would otherwise be present. So everyone planned our crazy night away and I reveled in the new level of comradery that descended over Clay and my friends.

Thanksgiving came and went and I enjoyed having a quiet meal with my parents. I even braved the mall to go shopping on Black Friday. I allowed my mom to talk me into getting some new clothes. I got some new pants and shirts, letting myself embrace my girlie side with more feminine gear.

While my mom was busy picking out some new bras and underwear at Victoria’s Secret, I took the opportunity to pick out some items for myself. I had to make sure that my mother didn’t see me choosing several lacy pairs of panties and matching push up bras. Holding up a see-through pair of underwear, I imagined Clay taking them off of me and my blood heated up. Yep, I was getting these for sure. I surreptitiously paid for the items and then hid the bright pink bag in my purse.

Saturday morning, Rachel came over and helped me pack for our night. She oohed and ahhed over the new clothes I had gotten, calling dibs on the cute black off the shoulder top my mom had picked out. It was the first time in weeks where I felt that old ease and normalcy in our relationship. I was convinced tonight would be just what I needed. Not only because I would have time with Clay, but I could repair my relationships with my friends.

“You’re mom has some serious style, Mags.” Rachel commented, stuffing the black top into my overnight bag. I found my super snug skinny jeans and put them in the bag as well. “Yeah, she dresses way better than I do.” I admitted, rummaging through my underwear drawer and pulling out several pairs of bra and panties that I had chosen yesterday.

“Wow, so you and Clay. Alone. All night. Are you ready for that?” Rachel asked me, chewing on her bottom lip in a way that indicated she was nervous. “Shh.” I hissed, closing my bedroom door. “Sorry.” Rachel said, lowering her voice.