Rooted

“You sure about this? It’s not too late to cancel,” Daniel said as he slipped behind the wheel, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek.

“No, no, I’m sure. My whole family knows I’ve always wanted to do this. They won’t be surprised,” I reassured him in the passenger seat, “Besides, it’s totally the most romantic thing ever, so who cares.”

He laughed, “Ok, ok I’m all in. I just don’t want you to have any regrets, that’s all.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I turned to him. “I don’t want to do it if you’d rather have a big wedding with the fam.”

“Please! I’m not passing up a chance to keep my mom from meddling. It’s your mom I'm worried about. Promise she’s not going to resent me for the rest of our lives?”

“Well she already doesn’t like you anyways.”

“What!?” he exclaimed, “Last time we went to her house, she sent me home with like three different cakes.”

I laughed, “I’m just teasing, you know that. She’s not going to care. I’m the last of my siblings to get married, so she’ll probably be glad we’re eloping. And Dad will just go on and on about how cost efficient it is. Don't worry. You know how they feel about a good deal.”

“Your dad will do anything to save a buck,” he agreed, “Ok, then it looks like we’re ready to go. You packed the rings, right?”

The rings. My heart sank. I had forgotten. I’d been distracted this morning.

“Shoot! Let me run in and grab them.”

“You forgot? So unlike you, Lainey!” he teased, “My type A fiance must be a little nervous for her big day if she forgot a detail like that.”

I chuckled to cover my unease, “I’ll be just a second,” I called as I ran inside.

***

Rings now in our possession, Daniel backed out of the driveway. Many hours have I spent in his car, and many more would I spend in it today as we road tripped to the beautiful mountains of Estes Park, Colorado. We planned to camp there tonight and exchange our vows tomorrow, just the two of us, before driving to the nearest courthouse to make it official. I barely slept last night, giddy with excitement.

Daniel flipped on the radio as I rolled down the window of his truck, leaning my head outside. The truck was a little beat up, but in a way that reassured me. I liked that it had seen some things; I felt at home in something whole but scarred. I took in the dulled red of its exterior, the small dent near the bumper, and the way it sparkled just a little bit after it had been washed. I was at peace in that front seat, next to the driver.

He cranked up the volume as one of my favorite songs filled the speakers. I took in the trees, the passing skyline. We often began our drives in silence, just the music and the wind. Not a silence that lacked things to say but a silence that was okay with just being silent. After a while, we’d begin to talk, talking about the beautiful, the mundane and trivial, and everything in between. Anytime I shared a funny story from work, Daniel would let out the loudest guffaw, no matter what I’d say. Daniel’s laugh could put you at ease, make you feel like you wanted to tell him every little detail about yourself. And you could because he would cherish it, and he would make you feel special. Or maybe that was just me that felt that way, and maybe I preferred it that way.

I stopped talking mid sentence when the song changed into another.

“Wait!” I exclaimed, “I know this song!”

I began to sing along, pleased that I recognized every word.

“Since when are you a Beatles fan?” Daniel poked at me.

“What do you mean? I'm a big fan of Yesterday.”

“No you aren't!” he laughed, “I’ve never heard you listen to the Beatles, and we’ve been together four years. When’d you learn all these words?”

I faltered as realization dawned on me.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I stumbled, “I think my brother used to play this song a lot.”

He paused, “Yeah that makes sense.”

He didn’t sound convinced. I could see his gears turning, could see him sensing a change in my demeanor.

I tried to laugh a little, “I’m feeling really sleepy. I think I’m going to nap for a bit,” I said, trying to suppress my slight nausea.

“Okay, yeah sure. Go for it.”

I turned over, facing the window. As I closed my eyes, the guilt slowly crept in. I didn’t want to talk about him, or even think about him, especially not the day before my wedding.

“Lainey,” Daniel spoke tentatively.

I didn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?”

I pretended to be asleep.

***

It had been a few hours when Daniel woke me up, suggesting we stop at a gas station. We pulled into a somewhat sketchy lot, and I stepped out, bending over to stretch my legs.

“I’ll fill us up,” he said, “Can you grab some snacks?”

“Of course,” I replied, giving him a kiss before walking inside.

I immediately maneuvered back to the candy aisle, surveying it for the best options. I grabbed the goods, checked out, and hopped back in the car.

“Guess what I got,” I sang, concealing the candy behind my back.

“You’re killing me with suspense,” he smiled, responding in theatrics, “Please, oh please, will you share with me what you purchased.

I giggled, “Ok, give me a drum roll please.”

He obliged as I whipped out the candy with a flourish. He stopped, confusion filling his face.

“Twizzlers?”

“Yes, your favorites!”

“What?” he gave me a bewildered look, “These are not my favorites.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” I hesitated, “I thought you always ate Twizzlers.”

“Noooo, I hate licorice. I mean I once ranted to you for like 30 minutes about how Twizzlers were the worst candy ever invented.”

I gasped, “Oh my gosh. Yeah you’re right. I’m so sorry.”

I knew what my mistake had been. Again, I felt the guilt forming in my stomach, moving to take over my body.

Daniel gazed at me intently before laughing a little awkwardly, “You’re good, it’s okay.”

He hesitated before continuing, “It’s just that this is so unlike you. You’re always on top of everything. You never forget things like that. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, why are you getting angry at me?” I became defensive.

He threw up his hands, “Woahhh, Lainey. I’m not angry.”

“Yes, you are. It was a simple mistake, ok? I’m sorry,” I knew I was being unfair.

“Lainey, what in the world?” he looked at me, dumbfounded, “First of all, I’m not mad at you. It’s just that you seem a little off, and I don’t know what’s up. You forgot the rings, which was totally out of character, and then you got all weird about the Beatles song… and you bought me a candy you know I hate. And now you’re kinda flipping out about it for no reason. What is going on?”

“Nothing, Daniel! I’m fine, okay?”

He stared at me, confusion shifting into concern. I tried to smile, tried to indicate I was alright, but instead, a small sob slipped out. His posture melted a bit, and he grabbed my hand.

He let the silence linger a little before asking, “Is this about Sam?”

I took a deep breath, tears pricking at my eyes, and nodded.

“Okay, I see,” he puzzled, deep in thought, “Let’s keep driving.”

He drove out of the gas station and made his way back onto the interstate. No radio played now. I stared ahead, afraid to look at him. I’m not sure how long it was before I could feel his eyes burning into me as he slowly glanced over.

Hesitantly he spoke, “I know you never want to talk about it.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I really know that, Lainey. And I really get why.”

He paused.

“But look, if we’re going to get married, I, well, I think you should talk about it. Because I don’t know why it is still bothering you.”

I sighed, burying my face in my hands.

His eyes bore into me, “I just want to be here for you. Please help me understand.”

I took a deep breath before starting, “Look, Daniel. I want to marry you more than anything in the world.”

“I know that,” he nodded vigorously.

“But something about the wedding day approaching, it’s brought up a lot of stuff about Sam. I get this sense of guilt anytime I think about him; it practically consumes me. When I was packing I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and I just felt so awful. That’s why I forgot the rings. I was so distracted.”

I continued, “I can’t seem to control it when it starts taking over, and then it stays with me. It makes me physically sick, and I can’t shake it. Clearly, he was still on my mind because without realizing it, I sang along to his favorite song in the car, which I’m guessing you probably already figured out, and I grabbed his favorite candy in the gas station.”

“Yeah I thought that might’ve been the case,” he offered.

“I’m really sorry, Daniel. Here I am a day before our wedding, at the ripe age of 24, and I’m hung up on my high school boyfriend.”

“Lainey, first of all, we both know it’s not like that,” kindness seeped into his words, “It’s not like that at all. But I mean you’ve been to therapy. You’ve done all the right things. So what’s up? Why can’t you shake it?”

“Because… because I don’t know.”

His imploring look, the loving desperation in his eyes, gave me the courage to keep talking, to really dwell on it all.

I reached over and gripped his hand, trying to make sense of it, “After we broke up, junior year of highschool, we didn’t talk anymore. I’d see him in the hallways, and he looked like a shell of himself. I’d tried to reach out a couple times but to no avail. He didn’t want to talk to me, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone. It was a few days before graduation when my mom woke me up at 2 am. Horror filled her eyes. She could barely form the words to tell me, tell me what you know. That he had taken all his pills, that he was gone. I relive that moment all the time, replaying the shock, the intense grief. I’d never experienced anything that horrible. And now, now I feel all these horrible feelings again.”

I stopped, my breath shaky, and he squeezed my hand, “Lainey, I know that was so hard. I mean I can’t imagine what that was like. But it was years ago, and what I don’t understand is why, after all these years and all the work you put in, why is it still affecting you so much? Why is it ruining what should be one of the happiest moments of your life?”

I squeezed his hand tighter, “I think… I think because it feels wrong to be so happy. Because I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t broken up with him junior year, if I hadn’t called it off. Maybe, he would still be here. His life at home was so hard, and he took it out on me, but I think I was the one thing holding him together. He never seemed the same after we broke up. If we hadn’t broken up, he would be happy. He’d definitely be happy. But instead, he’s dead. And I get to live happily ever after, marrying my soulmate.”

I paused, “It is literally eating away at me.”

I realized that I had been crying, tears having pooled in my lap. I still clutched Daniel’s hand, and my whole body was tense, bracing for his response. Instead, there was silence. I couldn’t look at him.

“We’re here,” he said, softly.

He put the car into park right outside the campsite, unbuckled, and turned his whole body to face me, letting go of my hand.

He began, his brow knitted together, “Lainey, it’s not your fault. And I think you know it’s not your fault. You know, deep down, that high school couples break up all the time, and rational people don’t take their lives because of it. If I’m honest with you,” he hesitated but then pressed on, “If I’m honest with you, I don’t know if we should do this yet. Not because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with you, but because I’m not sure if you’re ready for that. I can’t rush you into a marriage if you don’t think you deserve happiness, if you feel intense guilt over something out of your control. This is something you have to figure out before we do this. I can reassure you and be here for you, and I will always do that, but I can’t change how you feel about this.”

His words weren’t harsh; they were true. I knew they were true and said with delicate care, but I felt crushed. Crushed because he was right.

I furiously wiped away my tears. I wanted to be angry with him, wanted to scream at him and fight. But I didn’t.

“I’m going to go for a walk.”

He brushed the hair out of my face, and looked at me for a long time before replying, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

I got out of the car and began walking, heading down the first trail I could find. The weight of it all crashed over me in waves. I couldn’t face what the car had unraveled, how one day had disrupted everything I held so close, so dear. I continued to cry, the tears effortlessly flowing down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure how long I had been walking when I reached a clearing.

Through the blur of tears, the snow capped mountains came into focus. The sun peaked through their gaps, ever so slightly, casting the sky with pinks and purples and gold. The colors reflected onto the clouds. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to be as close as possible to those mountains and to that sky, to soak in every radiant beam of that sunset.

And then it was like I was there, up in the clouds and flying away. Escaping all that weighed my body down. Up there, I could see everything. I could see my mother, embracing me, a smile on her face. I could see my father, laughing, unable to contain his joy. I could see the red truck, words painted on the back and cans bouncing behind it.

And I could see Sam’s grave, with the flowers I would continue to put there every year.

And up in the clouds, I could see Daniel. He was at the campsite, looking at the path I’d taken. But he didn’t move; he simply waited.

And I let it all fly away, dissipate into the clouds. I let the warmth of the sun consume me, let the colors touch my soul. All this was here for me, that I knew. And when I came back down, he would be waiting. He was the one thing keeping me tethered, the one thing keeping me rooted.