After Mason left, I put every second of my time into my skating. My mom used to have to drag me home from her rink, which was saying something for her.
But then a year after he left, my accident happened, and everything in my life changed. My goals, my dreams, my hobbies, and my spark were just gone in the blink of an eye.
It was like my life became measured in the before and after of the day of my accident. Before, I had been happy, optimistic, and dreaming with no limitations. And after? I was shattered into a million pieces … my ankle, my leg, my wrist, my heart, and my soul.
It wasn’t a dramatic accident, at least to an onlooker, but to me, it was the worst it could have possibly been. It was a freak slip, a miscalculation, and everything I’d dreamed about was over.
Thankfully, I had a big support system to keep an eye on me and help me get on my feet, literally and figuratively. But sometimes, hearingget well soonandI’m so sorrydoesn’t fix someone’s problems.
For a little while, I was doing better, and then … I wasn’t. I was a wreck and a shell of who I had been before. I learned that no one else would be able to cure me, to rid the shadows that had settled into my mind and chest. With a few tools—my rom-coms, some antidepressant medication, and my best friend, who almost never left my side—I found a new normal.Finally.
Eventually, I got back on the ice, but it wasn’t the same. A panic attack here and there. Sometimes just from stepping on the ice, sometimes when I was trying to push my limits. But that was just the emotional aspect.
My leg healed perfectly fine, but my wrist and my ankle … that’s a different story.
Shifting my weight a certain way or jumping can hurta lot. Not only does it cause me pain, but it can sometimes make me mentally spiral. I’ve had more panic attacks on the ice than I’d like to admit. But again, I’ve found a way to survive, and I’ll continue to do so.
I’ve gained a lot of strength and confidence on the ice over the last two years at our hometown college. Not skating for the school, but coaching with my mom.
She not only runs a rink known by some of the best skaters in the country, but she also coaches at the college on the side for fun. Money has never been her focus, but instead training skaters and giving back to her community. She coaches the college students while I work with the youth program.
It took a while for me to not break into tears, seeing my mom work with the college skaters, knowing that I should have been one of them. Knowing that I‘ll never fully skate the same is hard to accept some days. But if I didn’t have my new gig, I would be lost.
I didn’t know that I could find a passion that would rival my love for skating and performing, but, God, those kids make coaching easy to love. Watching them blossom in their skills, nailing a jump for the first time, or simply watching their faces light up when they glide onto the ice—it brings me immeasurable joy.
We could’ve moved here right after high school and started college at Northern Minnesota University, but instead we decided to stay local for our first two years at home to save some money. But I know that Maeve has been excited about this move. She’s been desperate to get out from beneath her mom’s watchful and overprotective eye, moving somewhere she could do whatever she pleased.
We didn’t have to come here, we could’ve gone to any school we wanted, but this was the only one I ever dreamed of attending. The same one as my mom. Having the chance to skate at the same rink she had was always my goal. And it still is … but since my accident, it won’t be in quite the same capacity.
Regardless, Maeve and I have finally arrived at our last scholastic destination, and we’ll make the best out of it. We already have the perfect house which has everything we could want.
It’s near the campus, so we have a short commute to classes. It’s already furnished, so we didn’t have to bring beds or couches or anything else stupidly heavy. But best of all, it’s on the edge of the lake, complete with a hammock, firepit, cornhole, wraparound porch, and oversize porch swing.
It’s quiet and peaceful, slightly isolated, with our closest neighbor being a quarter mile around the lake.
Maeve is already itching to throw a party. I have no idea who she plans on inviting, but she can be really creative when she wants to be.
She’s always been the wild storm to my calm.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to take a page from her book now that I’m here. Let loose and not overanalyze every single decision I make.
Maybe that’s how I’ll find the love I’m looking for. I’ve been avoiding guys altogether since Mason left me. He took my heart with him, and it’s high time I take it back.
I’m not totally against throwing a party, but I imagine I’ll spend more time in my room than out here with everyone else. But we have a lot to do before anyone is going to be allowed to step foot in this place.
We have to unpack everything, which sounds almost as horrible as packing everything up in the first place. Moving altogether is the worst, I swear. I’m never doing it again.
But unfortunately, that’s a truth I can’t hide from because we only have the house until the end of this school year, and then my mom is selling it. We’re lucky we were able to talk her into letting us keep it for another year so Maeve and I could stay here.
She’s the best mom in the world, who has always given more than she’s ever taken, in every aspect of her life. But she wants us to be adults and learn responsibility, blah, blah. I can appreciate the thought, but I’d rather not have to get another job if I don’t have to. I’ll cross that hurdle when I get to it.
“Okay, who forgot to take the trash out before we left?” I wince as we walk into the team house, the immediate stench of garbage invading my nose. “Hmm,Ross?”
We might refer to this place as the team house but only three of us live here: Ross, Chet, and me.
Ross my teammate and one of my best friends, walks in behind me and drops his duffel bag on the ground next to mine. “Shit. That’s my bad, guys.”
“Someone, light a candle!” Brock shouts from the front door.
