Authors: Quinn Loftis,M Bagley Designs
“Take her up to her room please.” And that was my mom. I feel myself being laid down on a soft surface, and when I finally manage to get my eyes to cooperate, I open them and see that I’m in my room. I look up and see Trey leaning over me. The worry on his face tells me I must look pretty rough. I was in the cemetery for Candy’s funeral. I lay down next to her grave and bawled until
I was drained; I must have fallen asleep.
I feel him step back and find myself reaching for him. Desperate to know he isn’t going, frantic for him to know that I need him.
“Hey,” he says to me, softly. “Rest baby, I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. He leans down, kisses me gently, turns and leaves, and then closes the door quietly behind him.
I lay there staring up at the ceiling and let out a deep breath. Candy is gone, Lolotea is gone, I am damaged, but Trey loves me and he isn’t going anywhere. For now, that’s enough. I’m so tired, and I don’t want to think, so I close my eyes and shut the world out.
“Sometimes it takes falling to rock bottom, enduring utter devastation in order for us to realize just what we need, what we can’t live without. And the best part about rock bottom is you can only go up from there.” ~Trey
She’s been asleep for nearly eighteen hours. I’ve been sitting by her bedside for most of those, only stepping away to use the bathroom and call my grandmother. I can’t stop seeing the desperate look on her face, and the way she had reached out for me. It gives me hope that she has realized that we belong together, no matter how uncertain the future is, the one thing that is certain is that she belongs with me and I with her.
I watch the slow
, steady rise and fall of her chest and hope that she isn’t dreaming, but that she is getting the rest she so desperately needs without the disturbance of things better left to deal with in the light of day.
I hear the door open behind me and turn to see Tally’s dad come in.
He has been treating me with begrudging acceptance since I brought Tally home from the cemetery. He too must have realized that I’m not going anywhere, so he can continue to be an ass, or he can get over it. It seems like he is attempting to work on accepting it.
“She’s still sleeping?” He asks.
I nod, “She needs it.”
He’s quiet as he walks around to the other side of the bed so that he’s facing me.
His gaze meets mine, and his eyes reveal a vulnerability I have yet to see. “I love her very much, and I know I haven’t dealt with everything she has been through very well. But, I’m going to do better.”
I don’t know why he’s telling me this, other than maybe he just needs to get off his chest that he knows he has wronged his daughter, a confes
sion of wrongdoing, and the desire to let someone know that he wants to right the wrong.
“Tally needs to hear that,” I tell him, and try to make sure I don’t sound disrespectful. I only want him to see that in order for her to begin to heal she needs to know that he loves her as she is.
“I know, I will tell her.”
I watch a he leans down and kisses her gently on the forehead, and then quietly leaves. I wonder at the awkwardness of his movements and am curious how long it’s been since he has shown her any real affection.
My attention is brought back when she finally begins to stir. I stand and walk over to the bed and sit down next to her. She opens her eyes and they meet mine immediately. I smile at her and reach forward to brush her cheek needing the contact, the connection with her.
“You stayed,” she says groggily.
“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere,” I remind her.
She stares at me intently and I see a war waging in her eyes. “I’m so sorry Trey.” The words spill from her lips as they tremble.
“Shh, not right now baby, let’s get some food in you and a shower. Then if you want to talk, we will talk.”
~
Two hours later, we’re sitting on the tailgate of my truck. She’s been fed, showered, doted over by her mother, and hugged by her father. She’s holding my hand in both of hers and drawing circles on the palm of it.
“I’m not good right now. I was getting low before everything happened, but now, now I feel empty.” She looks up at me and I want to kiss the insecure look off her beautiful face. “You were right, I can’t breathe without you, I need you, and I’m hoping that I haven’t driven you away. I’m asking for your forgiveness, but I also need you to see where I am right now.”
I stand up from the tail gate and turn to stand in front of her. I spread her legs so I can stand in between them and meet her gaze.
“You are stuck with me Tally. I love you, and the only way I know how to do this, is all the way. I will take you any way you come to me. And, if right now, that is with sorrow running through your veins and darkness seeping into your bones, driving away the warmth of the light, then I will wrap you in my arms until the darkness is gone and the sorrow is replaced by joy, no matter how long that may take. You are mine to care for and I am yours. There is nothing to forgive baby. You were scared, I get that, the only thing I need to know is that you will trust me, and when you begin to doubt me because of where you are or because you feel you are a mess, tell me so that I can show you that I am not going anywhere.”
“How will you show me?”
I grab her face gently and dip my head to her mouth. I take what is mine and give what is hers, showing her with my love, what words don’t always convey. She is all that I need, all that I want and as I kiss the woman I love, the woman I will spend my life with, I pour every ounce of myself into it. It’s the only way I know how to love her.
I pull back, but continue to hold her face in my hands. Our breathing is rapid and we both struggle to get it under control. I taste her on my mouth and know that I could get drunk on her taste. “Tally Baker, beloved of mine, I’m going to marry you. When you feel the seeds of doubt slip in, when your reality becomes one that I can’t see, you remember those words. You will be my wife and I will spend the rest of our lives reminding you, that you may have bipolar disorder, but it does n
ot have you. It cannot have you because I have claimed you and I don’t share.”
“My name is Tally Baker.
I’m 18 and have been living with bipolar disorder for nearly a year. Today is a good day. I’ve had lots of good days and know that for now the depression has passed. I know the pendulum of the disease is swinging the other way and that I need to pay attention to how I’m feeling. I know that I am the one in control of this disease. I know that I am not in this alone.” ~Journal entry Tally Baker
“Trey asked me to marry him today. He informed me that since we have both graduated from high school there was no reason for us to just keep putting off the inevitable.” I laugh out loud in the empty cemetery as I lean against Candy’s tombstone. “I wish you could have been there, you would have loved what he said next. So after he informs me that we should get on with getting married he says,
we need to get married young
,
so that I will have many, many years of bedding you
.” I look down at her grave as if she can see me and roll my eyes. “He seriously said
bedding you
, I mean who says that? Of course you know I said yes, I mean who could resist such a romantic proposal?”
I lay my head back and let the summer sun warm my face. I’ve been making weekly visits to Candy’s grave and much to my surprise have found that my time here, talking to a tombstone has become a form of therapy, and although I don’t know if she can hear me, I can’t help but imagine her sitting here next to me, making smartass comments the entire time.
It’s been over a year since I met Candy. It’s been over a year since my world fell apart. I look down at my bare arms the words still stare back at me, a reminder of where I’ve been, but also a testament to the fact that I survived. I didn’t do it alone, and though some might think that it is a weakness, they would be horribly wrong. The battlefield of the mind is not one that can be defeated unaided. When perception becomes altered and falsehoods become reality, the ability to reason and be reasoned with becomes nearly non-existent. Dr. Stacey still reminds me that meds are 10% of the treatment and therapy is 90%. Therapy includes not only your doctor, or your group sessions, but also the support system that you need to build around you. My support system happens to include a dead crazy old lady, and it makes me smile to know that Candy would undoubtedly tease me mercilessly over it.
“All right you crazy old bat, my ride is here,” I say as I look up and see Trey walking towards me. He reaches out his hand, and I grab it, letting him pull me to my feet.
“Did you tell her?” He asks me with a mischievous grin.
Yes, my now fiancé, even talks as if she can hear me. How I love him
,
and his ability to roll with me, crazy an
d all.
“Yes, I told her.”
“What did she say?”
I can’t help the bark of laughter at his question. Only Trey could ask what a dead woman’s response was to a question and say it with such seriousness that you think he expects an answer.
“She said to let her know when you decide to quit
bedding me
and just go at it like rabbits.”
Trey throws his
head back laughing and the sunlight shines on his long black hair. His face is bright with joy, and when he looks at me, as he is doing right now, I can’t help but reflect that joy back at him like a mirror.
“Today’s a good day,” he tells me as he wraps his arm around my waist and leads me back to the truck.
“Yes, it definitely is,” I agree.
“Does that mean a victory dance?” He
raises his eye brows at me suggestively.
“I think these victory dances have gotten a little out of control.”
He shakes his head, “No such thing.”
I tap my finger against my lips as I climb into the truck, “Hmm, okay I will give you a victory dance if you go tell my dad
we’re engaged―while I’m conveniently occupied with Natalie.”
He raises a brow at me as a smirk slides across his mouth, “You’re telling me that my girl, who has been through hell and back and survived is scared to tell her daddy she’s getting married?”
I nod, not embarrassed in the least.
“Nope, no deal babe, sorry but we’re in this together.”
“Always,” I tell him as I lean over with a grin on my face and kiss him.
~
I’m Tally Baker I have bipolar disorder. I am a survivor, but I refuse to let that be my only legacy. I choose to live, not just endure, but to really live.
From the author:
Thank you so much for taking this journey with me. This book has been one of the hardest things for me to write and I hope that maybe just one person will find hope and encouragement through Tally’s story. If you have a mental illness, please know you are not alone. I pray you will make the choice to live. I pray you will not let the disease rule you, but that you will take control and know that you can live a full, abundant life. I don’t say that flippantly, I say it in all sincerity and I say it from experience. My name is Quinn Loftis, I have bipolar disorder, I have survived, but I refuse to let that be my only legacy. I choose to live, not just endure, but to really live.
God bless you and thank you again for taking your time to read Call Me Crazy.
Sincerely,
Quinn
Now please enjoy the Prologue to Book 7 (title coming soon) of The Grey Wolves Series
The Grey Wolves Series, Book 7
Prologue
“When I look in the mirror I see my face, my blue eyes, black hair, and strong jaw. But I don’t recognize the figures staring back at me. Something inside me has changed, grown darker, colder. My wolf rages inside, constantly fighting me for control. I know I mustn’t give in. For if I do, chaos will come crashing down around us, along with lifeless bodies.”
~Fane
Fane felt sweat dripping from his brow as he ran. His lungs burned with effort as he tried to suck in more air. He could see her, just up ahead. She was crying and screaming for him to help her.
"I'm coming!" He yelled.
His footfalls pounded against the earth, seeming to fall in time with the beating of his heart. Every time he got close to catching up, she would be ripped from his grasp. He was losing her. He felt his wolf clawing to get out, raging, howling inside of him. Yet no matter how he tried, he couldn't phase. He felt helpless, and that feeling only fueled the burning anger deep inside of him. She was his. His to protect and over and over he failed her.