Hell on Heels(65)

They let me go, and I ran.

I ran onto the ground behind the stage, stopping when the grass slowed me.

Lifting my dress, I untied the mass of string to my knees and stepped out of my heels.

I ran again, the gold stilettoes now swinging in my hand.

I hoped he’d come.

The canopy wasn’t far, halfway between the stage and the crowd, in the center of the lake.

I ran into the canopy and spun in a circle.

He wasn’t here.

I looked up and said a little prayer.

If Henry was still listening, I hoped he heard me.

“He’s coming, Charlie bear.”

Then I felt him.

Turning, I saw the light of the moon as it reflected off his face.

“You’re carrying your shoes.”

I laughed as he walked towards me.

“You came.”

He smiled.

“I did.”

I smiled.

“Are you going to kiss me now or what?” I asked.

And he did.

He kissed me.

So I had learned.

Maybe life wasn’t so much about the highs and the lows, but about the space in-between.

I chose him, not because he was the better man—all three men were great men.

I chose him because he was the better man for me.

I chose him, because I wanted to try and live the space in-between, with him.

I was borrowed parts of a million people taped together in a once broken soul that was now healing.

I didn’t know where we went from here. All I knew was I wanted to try.



THE END.





In place of an epilogue, please find this letter…

To you, my reader,

First, let me start off by saying, I know.

I know you wanted me to tell you which man Charleston chose.

I know this isn’t the happily ever after you were hoping for, but I think sometimes, like life so often shows us, it’s not always the ending we want that matters; it’s the ending we need or the one we didn’t see coming that gives us the most in return.

I know you wanted a hero in the story, but I promise you, you have one.

Charleston is her own hero.

And she is mine.

In writing Charleston, it healed a small part of me, and for that, I am forever grateful and indebted to her. She is by no means a glorified heroine. She is imperfect and she has a soul embedded with flaws, as we all do, but I hope in her you find a mirror, as I did, one that reflects all the beauty and strength in you, not in spite of your trials and tribulations, but because of them.

Addiction is graceless and crippling.

It haunts a part of my heart that will never be free of the shadows it so desperately craves, and each day, I will bear the realities of the wounds it continues to don on my family.

To love an addict is among some of the few things I would not wish on any person. For when you love someone, it is especially taxing to watch their demons creep in like fog, surrounding their heart, as you stand with your feet bound, unable to chase them away. Worse, is when it clears and they find their likeness in your eyes. It won’t matter how much love you pour into them, for all they will see in that moment is the devil’s back as addiction flees with another fragment of their soul in his pocket.

I know it is easy to get lost in your love for others. We often find ourselves so willing to sacrifice our lives for those we care about, but that would be a grave injustice. It took many years for me to learn the blessing that comes in the cloak of boundaries. There is no shame in acknowledging the lines in the sand that keep you whole. You are no less loving, and you are no less empathetic for their suffering by choosing to honour your limitations.

Maybe for you, this story was about redemption and forgiveness.

Maybe for you, it was about simplicity and acceptance.

Maybe for you, it was about challenge and growth.

Maybe for you, it was just another book, and that’s okay too.

Maybe this time, in this book, it is not so much about the man who romances her, but about the woman who chose him.

You don’t need to know his name. He is whoever you needed him to be, just as he was for Charleston. Because the man you choose won’t be perfect; you aren’t either, and more importantly, that’s okay. It’s what makes love all the more beautiful, choice. The great loves are not the ones with whom had no other choices, but the ones who had endless options, yet still chose each other.

I believe that at any given point in our lives there is someone out there for us.

The world is filled with people who will touch your soul in different ways, and that’s part of what makes living so exciting. You could meet someone tomorrow, who would change your life in a way you never saw coming and perhaps weren’t ready for.

We shouldn’t decide to love people because we are ill equipped to love ourselves; rather, we should choose to love others, because we are so full of self-love that we are bursting with the opportunity to share that love with whomever our hearts ache for.

For, you always belong to you before you belong to someone else.

I will leave you, my reader, with this… May you rain down your absolute presence on this world and make no apologies for it. You are a beautiful person, inside and out, and with each step you take, worship yourself. Let them fear you, and let them quake with the urge to touch you, but most of all, let them earn the right to love you.