Page 7 of Soaring and Steadfast

“I’m okay,” she forced out, though the words tasted like lies.

“Are you sure? Do you want to talk about it?”

“I probably should talk to somebody, but I’m not ready yet.”

I’m scared,Lila thought wildly in fear.I’m frightened to face my past or even hope for a future. I’m existing because it’s safer…

Stephanie squeezed her hand. “When you are, say the word, and I’m here for you.”

A month later, Lila was fighting an inner battle, trying not to let it show as she worked silently at her desk counting moneyand posting deposits. Her life consisted of waking up, worrying, working, then going home to an empty apartment. She couldn’t go out and hang out with Natalie anymore. Stephanie was going to be moving this weekend.

She was alone – and would be forever.

That singular thought kept echoing in her mind, choking back tears and fighting a silent battle within her. None of this was healthy. She wanted fresh air, sunshine, to breathe, to smile, to feel at peace in her soul and…

Her phone beeped.

Lila, do you have a minute?

What’s up, Steffi?

I need help moving and wanted to see if you and Natalie could come for a little bit – plus we can say goodbye.

First off, we aren’t saying BYE… ever. You are stuck with my hormonal text messages and random outbursts because that is what sisterly love is like.

Secondly, I’m on my way. Let me go tell the boss that my period cramps are too much, watch him freak out, and then I’ll be there in ten minutes.

Don’t get fired.

LOL – puh-lease. I dare him to fire me.

See ya soon!

I texted Natalie, but she didn’t answer. Is she with a customer?

GIRLLLL – no. She ditched me for a dude. Can you believe the nerve?

We’ve gotta find you one.

Uh, hard no.

People change, things change.

Again, hard pass. I probably need to talk to someone first – like serious therapy or something. Maybe I should try finding a few brain cells, God, and Alcoholics Anonymous so I can handle this train wreck of my life.

Want someone to talk to?

Who?

Maybe a pastor?

Lila blinked as she stared at her screen for a moment. It wasn’t exactly Alcoholics Anonymous, but alcohol wasn’t really her problem – it was being pressured by a friend who kept putting her in terrible environments. She didn’t crave the drink, didn’t really enjoy it. The part she desperately wanted was to feel normal and not feel isolated. Maybe talking to a pastor would help things?

Sure.

Hook me up with the number to a pastor – and I promise not to ruin the man. I’ll text him a few things, scare him half to death, and then he can chase me across the country with Holy water.

Har. Har. See you in ten?

---