Page 66 of Only the Small Bones
I pressed the phone to my forehead, consumed with pain and guilt. Guilt because I hadn’t gone through what he had, and yet I suffered all the same. I needed a moment to feel it all.
“Let go, William. Tell him.”
Me:It makes perfect sense. You’re retaking control. You’re refusing to let them win.
“Don’t let them win,”I’d once told him.
Ryan:I never enjoyed it. I didn’t know it could be good for anyone but them. The ones who hurt and take.
I shoved off the covers, and dropped my feet to the floor. Every part of me felt hot and raw, growing weak and heavy. How did I respond to that? I couldn’t, not when everything in me screamed I could’ve done more to prevent this. I should’ve spent less time wallowing in my own pain. I should’ve started Freedom Fighters a lot sooner. I should’ve diverted more resources into search and rescue efforts, instead of what my foundation was primarily known for—raising awareness and lifeafterrecovery. Somewhere along the way I’d lost the true purpose of the freedom fighters. We should’ve been fighting, working with investigators and the families of the missing directly, not waiting for the taken to be hand-delivered to us.
I’d made mistakes no amount of meditation, exercise, or journaling could make right. Now it came down to learning how to live with it.
I did my best not to sound like a fraud or a generic inspirational quote when I replied.
Me:Don’t let what happened to you in the past define who you’ll become in the future. You’re on the right track.
What did that even mean? The words felt hollow. Maybe because I was still working on applying them to myself.
Ryan:There’s so much I still don’t know. So much I’m unsure about.
Me:The good news is you’re doing the work.
Ryan:You sound like Dr. Shwartz.
I tried to infuse some levity in my reply.
Me:Sounds like she and my therapist subscribe to the same school of thought.
Ryan:Yeah. There’s still a lot I haven’t told her. A lot I can’t even tell myself.
I wondered what those things were.
Me:Take your time. You’ll get there.
The following silence felt like a moment of reflection, so I let him have it, determined to wait as long as it took for him to be ready to chat again.
Ryan:I’m tired.
Me:Get some rest, then. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
Ryan:Ask me something first.
Me:Something like what?
Ryan:I don’t know. You never ask me things.
I shook my head in confusion, grinning as I settled against my pillows again.
Me:I ask you things all the time. You just don’t answer me.
Ryan:I guess.
I decided I’d play along, keeping it simple because he was exhausted.
Me:What’s your vision board goal for next week?
He’d said he needed to work on it before coming over today.
