Days of the Old

Almost everything was okay. Well, everything in California was going as well as it possibly could be. I had my family, I had my friends. What more could I ask for? My heart sometimes ached for that tiny town on the east coast of Canada, and I wondered what kind of havoc my ‘ex’ best friend could have been wreaking in it.

But that was thousands of miles away, we were done. There wasn’t much I could do about it; it was his choice after all.

Johnny’s sulking whine brought me out of my trance, and I briefly glanced at him as Jimmy held him in a head lock, with Brian and Zacky placing bets on who would win. Letting a small chuckle escape my lips, I focused back on the task at hand. Matt rested his hand on my shoulder, smiling down at me as we both admired our handiwork.

My mother stared up at me, smiling, her blue eyes bright and her hair was just as blonde as ever. This was exactly how I wanted to remember her. This was my favourite photograph of her, the one whose frame I’d broken in a fit of rage all of those months ago when I had first arrived in California.

That seemed like ages ago, looking back on it. The reason I had been angry seemed so silly, that had once again a time when I was being selfish. That was back when Tyler was still my friend, and he still cared about me. When he was looking out for my wellbeing, not trying to harm me, both physically and emotionally.

Val joined me on my other side, grinning as she glanced from Matt and I to the picture frame. She had been ecstatic since we made up.

Miles away, I always reminded myself whenever my thoughts wandered back to the old days. He was miles upon miles away. There was nothing I could do about it then. What I could have had already been done, I told the truth. I’d gotten it out, and I just hoped that Tyler was going to get the help he needed. That he was going to get better, and that one day, maybe, just maybe, he would get better and he would go back to the way he was before I left for California.

Hope, what else was there to hold on to? I couldn’t just make myself forget about him, he’d been my best friend, my brother since childhood. I had to hold onto the off-chance that maybe someday he would smarten up and realize the mistakes he had made.

I would never, ever, forgive him though. He had kicked me when I was down. When I needed help he turned his back, made everything worse. He made his choice.

For now, I have my family to hold on to. They would help me get through, they were supportive and they never once judged me once since I so unceremoniously stumbled into their lives. They welcomed me with open arms, as if I’d been there from the start. They had been as patient as they possibly could have been with me, and they would forever have my gratitude for that.

Besides my mother’s picture in a brand new frame that everyone (I mean everyone, all the guys and girls contributed to it in some way) had worked on, two other pictures were included in it, too. One of them was a family portrait that we had just recently gotten done, Matt and Val had been standing beside me while they both had a hand on each of my shoulders. The other was a candid shot of all the guys and girls, including me. Everyone was smiling and laughing, as happy and content as they could be, just like my mother had been in her picture.

Green (that also happened to be my mother’s favourite color) pinstripe borders were neatly placed around each of the photographs, and the solid oak frame accented it well. My new family and my old family were then together as one. She would always be with me, in my heart and in my soul, guiding me in the right direction.

Many challenging things were still to come, some I could already foresee, but it was going to be okay. That wasn’t to say that there weren’t going to be rough patches—oh, there were—but I would get through it all in one piece.

With my family.