It Ends with Us

after the tide recedes.
That was what Atlas was telling me when he said “I love you.” He was letting
me know that I was the biggest wave he’d ever come across. And I brought so much
with me that my impressions would always be there, even when the tide rolled out.
After he said he loved me, he told me he had a birthday present for me. He pulled
out a small brown bag. “It isn’t much, but it’s all I could afford.”
I opened the bag and pulled out the best present I’d ever received. It was a magnet
that said “Boston” on the top. At the bottom in tiny letters, it said “Where everything
is better.” I told him I would keep it forever, and every time I look at it I’ll think of
him.
When I started out this letter, I said my sixteenth birthday was one of the best
days of my life. Because up until that second, it was.
It was the next few minutes that weren’t.
Before Atlas had shown up that night, I wasn’t expecting him, so I didn’t think
to lock my bedroom door. My father heard me in there talking to someone, and when
he threw open my door and saw Atlas in bed with me, he was angrier than I’d ever
seen him. And Atlas was at a disadvantage by not being prepared for what came
next.
I’ll never forget that moment for as long as I live. Being completely helpless as my
father came down on him with a baseball bat. The sound of bones snapping was the
only thing piercing through my screams.
I still don’t know who called the police. I’m sure it was my mother, but it’s been
six months and we still haven’t talked about that night. By the time the police got to
my bedroom and pulled my father off of him, I didn’t even recognize Atlas, he was
covered in so much blood.
I was hysterical.
Hysterical.
Not only did they have to take Atlas away in an ambulance, they also had to call
an ambulance for me because I couldn’t breathe. It was the first and only panic

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attack I’ve ever had.
No one would tell me where he was or if he was even okay. My father wasn’t even
arrested for what he’d done. Word got out that Atlas had been staying in that old
house and that he had been homeless. My father became revered for his heroic act—
saving his little girl from the homeless boy who manipulated her into having sex
with him.
My father said I’d shamed our whole family by giving the town something to
gossip about. And let me tell you, they still gossip about it. I heard Katie on the bus
today telling someone she tried to warn me about Atlas. She said she knew he was
bad news from the moment she laid eyes on him. Which is crap. If Atlas had been on
the bus with me, I probably would have kept my mouth shut and been mature about
it like he tried to teach me to be. Instead, I was so angry, I turned around and told
Katie she could go to hell. I told her Atlas was a better human than she’d ever be
and if I ever heard her say one more bad thing about him, she’d regret it.
She just rolled her eyes and said, “Jesus, Lily. Did he brainwash you? He was a
dirty, thieving homeless kid who was probably on drugs. He used you for food and
sex and now you’re defending him?”
She’s lucky the bus stopped at my house right then. I grabbed my backpack and
walked off the bus, then went inside and cried in my room for three hours straight.
Now my head hurts, but I knew the only thing that would make me feel better is if I
finally got it all out on paper. I’ve been avoiding writing this letter for six months
now.
No offense, Ellen, but my head still hurts. So does my heart. Maybe even more
right now than it did yesterday. This letter didn’t help one damn bit.
I think I’m going to take a break from writing to you for a while. Writing to you
reminds me of him, and it all hurts too much. Until he comes back for me, I’m just
going to keep pretending to be okay. I’ll keep pretending to swim, when really all I’m
doing is floating. Barely keeping my head above water.
—Lily
I flip to the next page, but it’s blank. That was the last time I ever wrote
to Ellen.
I also never heard from Atlas again, and a huge part of me never
blamed him. He almost died at the hands of my father. There’s not much
room for forgiveness there.
I knew he survived and that he was okay, because my curiosity has
sometimes gotten the best of me over the years and I’d find what I could

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about him online. There wasn’t much, though. Enough to let me know
he’d survived and that he was in the military.
I still never got him out of my head, though. Time made things better,
but sometimes I would see something that would remind me of him and it
would put me in a funk. It wasn’t until I was in college for a couple of
years and dating someone else that I realized maybe Atlas wasn’t supposed
to be my whole life. Maybe he was only supposed to be a part of it.
Maybe love isn’t something that comes full circle. It just ebbs and flows,
in and out, just like the people in our lives.
On a particularly lonely night in college, I went alone to a tattoo studio
and had a heart put in the spot where he used to kiss me. It’s a tiny heart,
about the size of a thumbprint, and it looks just like the heart he carved
for me out of the oak tree. It’s not fully closed at the top and I wonder if
Atlas carved the heart like that on purpose. Because that’s how my heart
feels every time I think about him. It just feels like there’s a little hole in it,
letting out all the air.
After college I ended up moving to Boston, not necessarily because I
was hoping to find him, but because I had to see for myself if Boston really
was better. Plethora held nothing for me anyway, and I wanted to get as far
away from my father as I could. Even though he was sick and could no
longer hurt my mother, he still somehow made me want to escape the
entire state of Maine, so that’s exactly what I did.
Seeing Atlas in his restaurant for the first time filled me with so many
emotions, I didn’t know how to process them. I was glad to see that he was
okay. I was happy that he looked healthy. But I would be lying if I said I
wasn’t a little bit heartbroken that he never tried to find me like he
promised.
I love him. I still do and I always will. He was a huge wave that left a lot
of imprints on my life, and I’ll feel the weight of that love until I die. I’ve
accepted that.
But things are different now. After today when he walked out of my
office, I thought long and hard about us. I think our lives are where
they’re supposed to be. I have Ryle. Atlas has his girlfriend. We both have
the careers we’d always hoped for. Just because we didn’t end up on the
same wave, doesn’t mean we aren’t still a part of the same ocean.
Things with Ryle are still fairly new, but I feel that same depth with him
that I used to feel with Atlas. He loves me just like Atlas did. And I know if

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Atlas had a chance to get to know him, he would be able to see that and
he’d be happy for me.
Sometimes an unexpected wave comes along, sucks you up and refuses
to spit you back out. Ryle is my unexpected tidal wave, and right now I’m
skimming the beautiful surface.

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