Don't Waste Your Breath, It's Too Late

“Eliza,” Dad said as he walked through my bedroom door later that night.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and my hand clutched the sharp object tightly before looking up at him. Concern washed over his face as he knelt down onto to the floor to my level. He moved a lock of my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. I winced slightly as my hand clutched tighter, the sharp object digging into my skin. No words were said as my shaky hand moved to his view. I turned my hand over and opened it. I wanted him to take that razor blade away from me, because if he didn’t, I knew I would just keep hurting myself.

A sigh fell from dad’s lips as he carefully took the razor blade from my hand. “You’re bleeding,” He muttered.

I shook my head and pulled my hand back. “I don’t care.”

Dad ignored what I had said and helped me up off the floor. He led me out of my room, down the hallway, and into his bedroom. He motioned for me to sit on the edge of his bed, which I did, while he disappeared into his bathroom for minute. I looked around at his room and the only thing I remotely remembered was the picture hung above his bed of Elijah and I with him and mom. It was the last family portrait we had ever had taken all together when Elijah and I were just toddlers, and I had never seen us all so happy together since.

The moments blurred together and suddenly dad was kneeling in front of me, pressing a cold, damp washcloth to my palm.

He looked up at me with soft smile. “Feels like deja vu all over again, doesn’t it?”

I was surprised he wasn’t mad at me. His eyes didn’t hold anger, but instead they held love and comfort.

I laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah,” I murmured.

He chuckled and removed the washcloth. “You should be fine.” He said, inspecting my palm.

“Okay.” I said as he let go of my hand. I didn’t really care though. A small cut on my hand was not something that I was going to worry about. “Hey dad,” I connected my eyes with his.

“Hm?” He hummed, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Will you tell me why mom took Elijah and I, and left Huntington?” I asked.

Mom had never given Elijah and I a full explanation about it, and I had always wondered why she truly left. I mean, what really happened between them. I didn’t want to keep hearing the same old story about how they grew apart; because I knew that wasn’t the real reason she left.

“She never told you?” He questioned as he set the washcloth on the nightstand beside us and turned back to me.

I shook my head and murmured, “No. She never really talked about it.”

He looked confused for a moment. “But I thought…” He trailed off before rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I thought that the reason you hated me so much was because she told you the real reason she left. I though that was why you never wanted to be around me, because you were angry at me.”

I furrowed my eyebrows together and shook my head. “She just said that you guys grew apart.”

He sighed heavily before sitting next to me on the edge of the bed. “Okay.” He nodded. “I’m going to tell you exactly why she left, and you’re probably going to be pretty pissed about it. So please refrain from yelling or breaking anything.” He pleaded with a small frown.

Hesitantly I nodded, “Alright.”

“Eliza, first you need to know that your mother and I loved each other very much. Hell I still love her more than anything, and that will never change. But I admit, I made some mistakes back then, and I honestly regret them more than anything.” He paused for a moment like he was in deep thought, before continuing.

“The band was just starting to get big and we were traveling on tour a lot. Your mother didn’t mind one bit, in fact she and Val were always supportive of the band. It didn’t matter if I left for months at time to tour and left you and Elijah with her alone. She didn't care. It kept our relationship fresh, and knowing that you, Elijah and your mother were waiting at home for me kept me pretty grounded. I didn’t do much drinking and I never once thought about screwing around on your mother. But one night I did make a mistake. The one thing I thought I’d never do, I did, and I felt pretty fucking terrible because of it. The guys and I were celebrating the last night of tour and things got pretty out of hand. I drank a lot and still to this day I don’t remember much, but I do know what happened. And like I said before, it was a mistake. I ended up sleeping with some girl and of course I told your mother about it as soon as we got back from tour the next day, but it didn’t matter what I said. I swore to her that it was a one-time thing, and that it would never happen again, but she didn’t believe me. So she left three days later and took you and Elijah with her." He explained to me.

My mouth was suddenly dry as if I hadn’t had anything to drink for hours and hours. I swallowed hard and licked over my lips. I knew that the reason we left was because something happened between them, but I had no idea it was because dad had cheated on mom. I wasn’t expecting that, but I also wasn’t angry about it. The look in his eyes told me that he did really regret it, and I knew if he could go back in time he’d change it in a heartbeat.

“Dad,” I said softly. “I had no idea.”

He gave me a small smile and nodded. He still loved her after all these years, and he was mourning over her death too. I was just too selfish to realize it. I’m not the only one who lost her. He did as well.

I inched closer to him slowly and put my hand over his, which was resting on his knee. “She still loved you know? I could see it in her eyes when you’d call every week and she’d answer the phone, or when we all saw each other every few months. She never got over you and she never moved on, which I guess is exactly why she never got remarried. In fact, she never really even dated. She went out with her friends some nights, but never with a guy.”

A sigh escaped past his lips as he ran a hand over his face. “I never really moved on either. She was my soul mate, and nothing can change that.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I fought them from spilling over. “She would want you to move on, dad. She would want you to find someone to love again, and to be happy. She wouldn’t want you regretting what you did. People make mistakes, and you can’t dwell on them. It doesn’t matter how painful it is, you have to move on and leave it behind you.”

He shifted for a moment and wrapped his left arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him, my face pressing against his chest. I could hear his steady heartbeat, thumping over and over again.

“Eliza,” He said softly after a few moments of silence. “Don’t you think it's about time you start following your own advice and move on as well?” He asked.

It dawned on me at that moment that he was right. I should have been taking my own advice all a long, but I hadn’t been. Instead, I was hurting myself in more ways than one, and tearing my relationship with my family apart. Once again, I was dealing with something I wasn’t sure how to fix. All I knew was that in order to fix my relationship with my father, get up the courage to go back to school to graduate, overcome self harm, and stop having suicidal thoughts, I needed to move on from my past. I needed to put it all behind me and move on, instead of always looking back and regretting everything that happened.

Only problem was, I wasn’t sure how to even begin to do that.