The entire experience helped her find herself and her purpose, though. She works closely with certain organizations, like Project Semicolon, to spread hope where people may not feel there’s any to be had. She even has a little semicolon tattoo between her thumb and forefinger. She says it’s a reminder, a promise. Every time we hold hands and our skin touches in that exact place, Audrey knows that she has more life to live. She has more of her story to tell.
“Thursday, where is Micah?” Audrey asks, and the girl in the green wig points toward where Cline is standing, next to the tall redheaded guy we’ve recently come to know as her boyfriend. “Oh, no. He has that look on his face, Sep. He’s going to do something stupid. You’d better intervene.”
The sisters take her warning and run off to stop whatever ridiculousness our best friend is about to pull, and I take Audrey into my arms, pulling her close as the crowds start to shift forward for the next band.
One year is all it took to change my life completely.
One moment to shift it on a different course.
One second of a stranger’s kiss—a rock on a window—a call from out of the blue.
All of it started with one girl and a question.
Audrey is leaning back against my chest while the music begins to grow louder and the crowd starts to get more amped up. Without her having to ask, I walk us backward until we’re away from the center of the madness, holding her in place against my body. She’s safe here with me. Always has been and always will be.
She turns and looks up at me from behind neon yellow glasses, then pulls them down off her face and tilts her head to the side to give me a wistful smile. “What?”
I brush a strand of pink away from her forehead and lean in to kiss her mouth, cradling the back of her head so that I can look her in the eyes when I pull back. “Run away with me,” I say and press another light kiss to her parted lips.
She smiles, her eyes so full of life and mischief, as she places the sunglasses on top of her head. “Name the time and place, Elliot Clark. I’m all yours.”
These words I know are true.
Somehow, I know they always will be.
I plan to watch Byrdie fly for the rest of my entire life.
Hello, sweet reader! Thank you for taking a chance on me. On this book. On Audrey, Elliot, and Cline.
It should be noted that Bertram Falls, Tennessee does not exist. Neither does the fictional Brixton College (just my homage to the late Mr. Bowie). The Confession Tree is not a real thing, however the cemetery and bridge that are described leading to it are very much a place that can be visited – but I would advise against it.
Audrey, though… Audrey does exist in one way or another. She’s someone you know, or knew, or she’s possibly a little bit of you.
I wrote this book for a very specific reason and that was to show another side of anxiety and depression that doesn’t get a spotlight very much: the hidden kind. The kind that’s folded away behind a nod and a smile, a joke or a laugh, an entire night out with friends that leaves that person exhausted for days afterward having to recharge because being ‘on’ all the time takes so much out of them.
Depression is a hard topic to discuss. It’s hard to understand. And even deeper than that? If you have experienced it, your depression may not be the same as someone else’s. It may not be the same as mine. You could ask a million people what their experience is like and you might hear that 90% of what you've experienced is the same, but the other 10%?
Mine and yours alone
Depression is an ugly, ugly thing. It starts small and grows until it's like those vines around trees that envelope the entire plant until it's suffocated and the intruder is satisfied and full because it's taken the host's life source. Even when you are doing your very best to fight it, depression and anxiety kinda hold your hand and pop in every once in a while like that annoying neighbor you try to deter from visiting by turning off your porch light. They know you're home, though. They persist. It persists.
Even on medication that is supposed to help with this mess, the depression creeps in. It hovers and seeps and tries to vine its way in. But I fight. You fight. They fight. Every day we face the battle to hold the hand of the one who keeps us down or look up and hope that we can say that today was a good day.
So trust me when I say that I know about 90% of what you're going through. And because of that you are NOT alone. Some of us are silent in our suffering and others will look you straight in the eye and say that we're in pain. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that no matter which side of the fence you're on you need to hear something that will make you see the light and the only thing I can offer is this: