Legitimately Us ||H.S||

Chapter 20

I didn't make it far. In fact, I only drove two hours to Seattle and I have been here for the last two weeks. Ever since the day my mom walked out, I knew that whenever the time came for me to leave town, I would end up here. She never reached out to me, but it just meant that, as always, I'd have to be the bigger person and face her.

It terrified me. The idea of seeing her again after everything that happened. But after hearing that Harry was forgiving his father for what he had done to him and his family, I knew I at least had to do the same with my mother. I felt like it showed growth. Strength. And as upset as Harry has made me, I admired him for this accomplishment. No, I didn't understand it during that moment, but I get it now. You can't move forward if you're always battling the same demons and letting them win, and I needed to make it right with my mom in order to get where I needed to go, at least within myself. After all, this is what this journey is meant to be.

Forgiveness. For myself and for others who have hurt me. It's one hard feat. And no, the day I walked into the facility my mother is residing in, did I forgive her right away. It took me a few days to even step foot through the doors when I got to the city, my mind in a funk I didn't want anyone to witness, especially my mother. 

It wasn't until after I had walked the Seattle streets and got a good taste of this city life I always wondered about. I needed some time alone. To delve into the city I had loved so much from afar from my place on the hill. To think, to understand my thoughts, to know exactly what was going on in my head. I needed this before I faced my mother. I went to a few underage clubs and listened to some live music and drank a ton of coffee and have been sleeping in the back of my car in an underground parking lot, only getting a hotel every few days to shower.

I've seen my Mom every day since that first day I went to see her. She gets an hour of visitation a day because of how well she's doing with her rehabilitation, and it has been nice to have time with her. We've had a lot of talking to do. A lot of apologizing and a lot of listening. And surprisingly, my coming here has been exactly what I needed. What she needed.

She had not heard about my father's arrest and what he did to me, because the rules of her rehab stated she wasn't allowed outside news during that time. I can understand that something like that could set her back and the thought of her not reaching out to me makes sense now. 

I decided to stay here for a while. To rebuild a relationship with my mother with our one hour a day visits. Her therapist said it would be best for me to come as long as possible since I told her the news, just to prove to her that I'm alright. She needed that proof to keep her going in the right direction since she blamed herself for all things bad in my life. No, I may not be alright, but she deserves to think I am. She deserves to get better and one day live the better life she always should have had. One without my father.

Our visits have gotten better over the days. It was a struggle at first, but I can feel the friendship forming through the heartache. I know that oftentimes forgiveness takes more than words, but words of truth and sincerity make it all that much easier. When words are all you have to go on, it's the only thing you have to trust, and I decided to come here with an open mind, because in order to move on, you have to be strong.

Right now I have a different outlook when it comes to Harry. But I've read every single one of his text messages to me. I just have decided not to reply. He knows that I've left and keeps asking where I've gone. Truth be told, I feel bad for making him worry about me, but I'm not ready to face him just yet. I'm not ready to forgive him. I'm still angry and upset. Beyond upset.

The last few days he's been quiet. He's clearly gotten the message that I won't reply and has stopped his questioning. He was never annoying about it, never sent me an abundance of texts to the point I wanted to throw my phone out the window. They started coming two days after I left at random times throughout the day, dwindling down to just the mornings as if he knew when I was waking up and late at night when the world should have been sleeping. The morning ones stopped and it became only middle of the night texts and I'm assuming those nights he was laying in bed thinking of me and missing me. And now...it's quiet.