“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” – Maya Angelou

My Interpretation: I did not want to believe it. I wanted to be wrong. I made excuses for him – for who he was, for what he did. But now? Now he is parked back in the same goddamn zip code. & I believe him. I finally believe him. Too late to undo it, but early enough to never let him near peace again.

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No One Warns You The Villian Might Come Back

I have had to grieve a lot of things in this life –
but I never thought I would have to grieve my peace.

It is one thing to walk away from someone who wrecked you.
It is another thing when they move back like it never happened.
When they show up in your town, on your street, breathing the same air like you do not flinch every time you see their car in traffic.

Grady moved back.
Not a call. Not a warning.
Just suddenly – there.
At the store. On the road. In the back of my throat.
& it is not just proximity. It is presence.

It is the way I feel my body stiffen up whenever I hear his name.
It is the way my skin itches like memory is trying to crawl back out.
& it is the way he gets to live his new life a few miles away while I am over here trying not to detonate.

This is not about jealousy.
It is about the audacity.
It is about how someone can cause so much damage,
then have the nerve to park their second chance right next to the life they shattered.

Grady did not move back to make peace.
He moved back to haunt comfort.
To remind me what I survived.
To twist the knife & pretend it is a handshake.

& the worst part?
I do not even think he sees it.
I do not think he is capable of understanding what it means to feel unsafe in your own zip code.
What it means to flinch at grocery store aisles or avoid parks your child loves
because he might be there, smiling like he was never the villain in your origin story.

Let me be clear about something:
There are fewer than 20,000 people in my entire county.
We have one high school – unless you are making a significant commute.
I drive an hour just to get to Target.
He knew that.
He knew I was a homeowner.
He knows exactly where I live.

Out of everywhere in the fucking world –
he decided to move back here.

I saw him on the 4th of July.
Did not think much of it.
Maybe he was just visiting for the holiday?
Maybe I was seeing things.
Hell, maybe a doppelgänger.

But no –
Lyra texted me the same day I was putting my Left Wing to rest to say:
Grady moved back.

So yes – I hold extra rage.
Because the day I was supposed to be strong for my soul dog,
I got sucker punched by the past walking back into my county with no shame.
& Koby?
He gave me a piece of himself that day.
Because he felt it too.
He felt me fall apart when that message hit.

I had to tell people.
Warn them.
I had to tell my father to prepare to run into him at our Walmart.
HOW COOL.

& now I get to carry questions like:
How do I keep Rowan from ever meeting Grady’s kid?
Because I will be damned if his child gets hurt when my son cannot show up to some birthday party.
That is not my responsibility.
That is not my fucking problem.
That will happen over my burning. fucking. body.

Why is this my mess to clean up?
Why the fuck would his wife be okay with this?
Do not tell me she does not know.
She has to.
So just – why?

He showed me who he was.
Over & over.
& still – I tried to write him into something he was not.
But this? Him showing back up?
This is the epilogue I never asked for.  
& I am the one holding the pen this time.

I rebuilt everything.
I burned the wreckage & planted flowers over it.
& now?
Now I am stuck watching the smoke rise again.
Because Grady came back.
& peace does not stand a chance where panic is paying rent.

Xoxo ♡