Chapter Thirty-Nine
Logan
I’d done everything I could, and yet, as I stared at the clouds passing by the airplane window, I felt nothing but sadness and remorse.
I’d stayed for a week after Dad’s funeral, kept checking on Mom, and made sure everything for the estate was handled. There was no reason for me to stay any longer, and Mom had kept telling me that I wasn’t going to fix her, so I needed to go back to my life and forget them like I had before.
A typical approach of blame-shifting. Someone with a narcissistic tendency like Mom, would use this tactic frequently when she felt guilt and shame but chose to turn it around on someone else, making her out to be the victim, and sadly, many people believed it to be true. People kept asking me why I’d left and abandoned Mom to be alone with Dad. Or why I wasn’t there for her more, trying to help her.
I knew the real story, the real feelings behind everything, but it wasn’t a joy ride to be bombarded with the constant blame for someone else’s actions. Especially when the accusers didn’t know all the sides.
Did they know that my parents used to tell me how great a life they would have lived if I hadn’t been born?
No. They saw that my parents had provided a roof over my head and kept me alive until I was old enough to start working, and then I took care of myself. Only coming home to sleep before going to school and working until they were asleep, over and over till graduation.
I’d worked my ass off through school and gotten my degree all on my own.
They hadn’t even shown up when I walked across the stage to accept my degree.
They had been at my wedding and managed to keep it together. They asked me for money only once, which I gave, but told them I would never give another dime. I didn’t believe in helping people who chose not to help themselves. It was a waste of money and breath.
Still, I tried. I did try to help Mom, to show her that the Earth was still moving without her toxic husband, and she had a life to live. I’d done the best I could and left.
I was riddled with emotions and needed to get back to some normalcy. Away from the scrutiny casting shame on my shoulders
And back to Mia.
We’d talked, her telling me about her days and what she was feeling. I could tell there was something she was keeping to herself, but for now, that was okay. I’d help her sort through her feelings, and eventually, it would either pass, or it’d come up in conversation.
Images of our day in the hotel were constantly on my mind, dredged up in times of need when the pressure of not losing my cool was too much.
Those same images had me leaving the airport in my Jeep as soon as I could, and instead of going home, I drove to her hotel. Needing to see her, breathe her in like a much-needed gasp of fresh air.
No one stopped me as I waltzed up to Mia’s office, having seen me plenty to know I was here for the queen of the land. Jay gave me a knowing look but didn’t hesitate to open the door for me.
Seeing her sitting in a green dress on the other side of that desk stirred me to my core. I wanted to stomp over to her and instantly lay claim to her lips.
But then her head came up from whatever she had been looking at on the computer, and I knew that kiss would have to wait. She was not okay.
“What’s going on?” Life coach duties came first; lover came second.
“I’m just feeling lame, and I know that’s lame in itself, which makes me feel even lamer.”
She sighed and sat back against her chair. Then, she took a sip of the water that was sitting on her desk. Good, at least she was taking care of herself more like I’d told her to in the beginning.
“Why are you feeling lame?” I plopped in the seat across from her and waited.
She pursed her lips and stayed silent for another minute, maybe choosing her words.
“I just feel like I should be grateful and happy all the time for being successful and having all I have. Instead, I feel like I haven’t done anything and lazy since I tend to give up on stuff before even starting them sometimes. Which I know sounds dumb. I am very successful, but I’m beginning to truly understand that, no matter what you have amassed in life, you are not above still feeling like a failure.”
This was a battle she’d constantly fight until she died, one many people had.
“That’s because you’re a perfectionist. And close that mouth. There is nothing wrong with perfectionism. It’s not what you think it is. Perfectionists are not OCD. They are not the same thing. Perfectionists have a report card or list of their accomplishments in their head. They are driven to accomplish goals, very future-focused, and are utterly terrified of failure. Which tends to lead toward unrealistic expectations, critical thinking of oneself, and an all-or-nothing attitude. If there is a chance of failure, any chance at all, then a perfectionist won’t even try. Masters at procrastination.
“The key for you is to look at how far you have come. You have done so much and in such a short time. Mia, you are amazing and driven beyond belief. You just have to stay in the now, focus on the now, and remember, there are no mistakes. Everything that happens has a lesson to be learned. If you fall off a bike and get scratched up, then you learn to either accept scratches as something that comes with the territory of riding a bike or you wear safety gear. You accept and adapt. Let go of the loss of control and accept what is. Will you die if you fail? No. Will you be able to go on with life if you fail? Yes. You can fucking do anything you set your mind to, Mia, because you are a force of nature.”
Jesus, I needed a drink after that speech. I hadn’t expected to go on a tirade like that for our reunion. But she was going to fight me, and this needed to be heard. Perfectionism was something that was ingrained in Mia’s being. It was the one-character trait that had led Mia down the path she’d been on trying to control everything, but it also led her to hiring me.
