I swing back to him and yell, “What the fuck does it have to do with me?”
He steps right up to me and his eyes are blazing with anger. “You’re alive! Fuck, woman. Your heart is beating. You still get to see all this beauty, you get to feel that breeze, you get to walk.” He wipes a hand over his face and growls, “You’re alive. There are so many who die young. So many lose so much, but they don’t wallow in self-pity. They fucking live every day to the fullest. Cara…” He sucks in a deep breath. “You’re given one fucking life and it might have been a fucked up one so far, but you get to decide how it will end. Are you going to let a bunch of fuckers ruin your entire life, or are you going to fight back and give them the finger?”
My throat feels thick and I swallow the tears. He’s right, but how do I change the way I feel?
“I don’t know how?” I whisper.
“That’s why I brought you here. Right now, standing right here, all you have to do is look at the ocean and see the blue. Feel that breeze and feel the cold water between your toes. For today…” His eyes are stormy with emotions and I’m scared that if I stare any longer I’ll get caught in the storm. “Just do that. Nothing more.”
I walk back into the water and focus on the cold waves splashing around my legs. I feel the breeze play in my hair and I look out across the ocean, taking note of all the shades of blue. I am grateful that I’m alive. I’m grateful that I have Damian. I just wish I could shake this heaviness that keeps weighing me down.
When we walk back to the car I feel drained.
Damian~
It’s been two weeks and every day I take Cara outside and make her list something she sees, feels, and one of her body functions she’s grateful for. It’s a long process but I can see the change.
She comes out onto the porch and I look up at her. “You ready for our walk?”
She doesn’t look at me as she nods. “Let’s go.”
She takes the stairs down and I notice that she has more energy. She hasn’t been taking any painkillers for the past few days and she’s eating more.
I catch up to her and before I can say anything she says, “I saw something yesterday. It’s this way.”
I follow her deeper into the trees and we walk for a while in silence before she points to something. “Over there.”
I follow her until she stops and crouches down. There’s a bunch of dandelions. She plucks one and then blows at it, making the tiny seeds waft into the air. She plucks a few more from the ground and then stands up. She hands me one and then whispers, “When you blow it, you have to make a wish.”
I watch her blow two more before she looks at me.
I hold it in front of my mouth and slowly blow at the seeds. They float away and all I can think is that I want her happy. I want to see her smile.
Her lips twitch and then she takes the stem from between my fingers. She tucks all four stems into her pocket and then starts to walk back to the cabin.
Today was a huge step. She made a choice and did something she wanted to do. She did good.
Cara~
At first I got so angry and frustrated with Damian when he kept pestering me to go on walks with him, but not anymore. Now I enjoy them.
It feels like years have passed since I lost my baby and Annie, but at the same time it feels like it all happened yesterday.
But at least I can feel the sun breaking through the clouds. It’s not so dark anymore.
There are moments when I’m actually happy.
I still don’t understand why all these bad things keep happening to me, but I hope that life will take a break from shitting on me. I just need a break.
We’ve fallen into a routine where we take turns to cook. When it’s my turn, we either eat cup-o-noodles or I microwave two frozen dinners for us.
Every day Damian is busy around the cabin. He’s done quite a lot of repairs to the place. Yesterday he spent the whole day going over all the screws and making sure the place wouldn’t cave in on us.
I open one of the cupboards in the kitchen and take out a cup so I can make myself some coffee. I close the cupboard door and as I reach for the cup, the door suddenly comes loose. I try to catch it and the corner of the door slams into my left hand. I cry out as pain vibrates through my arm. The door falls to the floor, taking the cup with it. The cup shatters around my bare feet just as Damian comes into the kitchen.
“Don’t move,” he says and then he stalks over to me. He picks me up and carries me out of the kitchen. Only when we’re in the lounge does he place me back on my feet. He walks back into the kitchen and I watch as he cleans up the shattered cup. He picks up the door and inspecting it, he mutters, “It needs new hinges and screws. Damn thing stripped right off. I’ll go get some and then check all the doors.”
He places the door on the counter and then walks back to where I’m still standing. “Are you okay?”