“No regrets. Yes, she’s our mother. Yes, she raised us but that doesn’t give her the right to our sanity or happiness for all eternity.”

She nods. “You’re right. I’m glad we’re at least in this together.”

I smile. “Me too.”

By the time Eloise leaves, it’s the middle of the night. I shut the door behind her, promising to call her tomorrow. Ha.

I get into bed and listen to Hugo’s muffled sobs and contemplate everything.

What would make me happiest? How can I live as my truest self? Everything else is irrelevant. Which sounds selfish, but it’s not. I can’t help anyone else until I help myself.

I can’t make my bosses like me.

I can’t fix Hugo.

I can’t live an entire relationship with Alex in the same twenty-four hours.

I can’t force time to push on.

I had no idea what was happening with Eloise, and I can’t fix her life for her now that I do.

And so. I have to let it go. Really let it go. Not like I did with Alex when we played hooky, a temporary reprieve from reality.

If I’m going to live the same day over and over with no control over the forward movement of time or anything else, then I’m damn well making sure it’s the best day I can have.

I kept thinking if I held on tight, manipulated the things that happened around me, maneuvered the people around me, if I controlled everything, it would make me happy, but it doesn’t work that way.

Look at Eloise. Or Mark. Or anyone, really. You can seem like you have everything, be perfect on the outside, and still be miserable on the inside. Perception is everything and nothing at all.

It’s time to let go of what my parents want, what other people think I want, and figure out what I want. I can wear the expectations of everyone around me like a costume, like keeping it wrapped around me will give me happiness, but the opposite is true.

It’s time to surrender. To let go of everything, including thinking I can do something to change this day. Instead of trying to control it, I should just enjoy it.

Chapter Twenty

Okay, so I don’t turn into some kind of super calm yogi overnight who has no problems or nerves whatsoever. Letting go and enjoying the day doesn’t mean anxiety is gone forever.

It also doesn’t mean the day moves forward.

I stopped keeping track, but this Monday has been repeating for months. Five months? Six? Somewhere around there. It’s a relatively small blip of time, but it may as well be an eternity.

But even though it feels like I’m living in a time without end, I am happier most days. Lighter. Freer.