Page 34 of Broken By It

“You’re not mad?”

I shake my head. “No son, I’m not mad. What I will say is trust is important. As a man, people have to being about to believe in you. Secrets can’t exist in the same space as trust. When Zizi gave you the code, I knew about it. She told me it was a thing for you. I am sure neither of you ever expected it to be used for this. It came about from your first sleepover.”

“I shouldn’t have used it?”

Sighing, I try to explain, “You were right to use it. You needed a safe place, and she is always it. Do not for one second doubt your decision. The bad things that have happened aren’t on you.Adults do dumb shit, and some adults have made some very bad decisions. That has trickled down to you. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.”

Home feels completely different.

Anna is gone.

There is something about young love that keeps a hold. We weren’t mature enough for all we went through. I wasn’t man enough to see she needed more from me than I gave. She suffered long before things fell apart. Her life unraveled in unimaginable ways. I didn’t even know she had a drug problem until it was too late. I knew she drank frequently, but I thought it was a release, not that she used drugs to cope. Something I didn’t understand until now is mental health. We never talked about it. Watching my son go through this trauma I have learned a lot and Anna had some serious mental health struggles. Her detachment early on with Hollis probably stemmed from something called postpartum depression. Left undiagnosed, and therefore untreated, the hormone waves of insecurity manifested into something more.

I wish I had seen it clearly. I wish I had stopped to get her help. I failed Anna. I failed the mother of my child. It’s something I am trying to come to terms with.

Healing is a journey. I never thought about it until watching Hollis process this loss. We have been home about two weeks from Florida. While part of me wished we could have stayed in the bubble of Florida, me, Hollis, and Maritza, there were things we needed to face back home. I managed to put together a small memorial service for Anna. The only people to come from Iowa were my cousins, Aunt and Uncle. No one in her family botheredto come even after I sent my family to personally give them the update. These people never gave her real love, or my son. It’s their loss to not have a relationship with Hollis. But for Anna, I hurt. The only family she ever experienced was the one we built. Yet, the trauma from her youth never gave way to allow her to embrace the love I tried to give her. I hope now, she is at peace. Her urn awaits Hollis to be older. Then he can decide if he wants to put them in a mausoleum or spread them somewhere.

Maritza found a therapist for Hollis, and it’s been helpful. Never in a million years did I see this as my future. I feel responsible. The weight of guilt weighs heavy on me.

If I hadn’t asked her to come with me, maybe she could have found happiness with someone back home. She wasn’t meant for this life, and I wasn’t meant to be tied down to small town Iowa. My cousins were right, all of them, we weren’t ready. It will forever be on me that she lost herself in following my dreams, my goals, and my aspirations.

Back then, I had a narrow-minded thought process. It all seemed simple, cut and dry. Life, growing up, being married, having kids, there is nothing simple about any of it. I did this to her. She got tied up looking for an escape and got hooked on the wrong shit with the wrong people. Some debts can only be paid in blood. She has paid hers and the pain she felt each, and every day is gone. Doesn’t mean my son feels the loss any less.

That will forever be on me.

I sit on my back porch inhaling the salt of the ocean air. Far from where I came from, this is home. I never would have been happy in Iowa, and she never would have been happy here. I don’t regret my love and time with her, I have Hollis and my life here in coastal NC. While I’m grateful for it all, I wish it could have ended differently.

Fall is settling in, and the evening is cool as the sun closes out the day. The sliding glass door of my trailer opens, Maritza emerges. I pat the seat beside me, and she obliges my request.

“Hollis, he’s in the shower.”

I nod as she takes a seat beside me with her mug of evening tea.

“What’s on your mind?” Maritza inquires of me.

I sigh. “A little of this, a little of that.”

“If you wanna share, I’m here. Maybe I was out of it from pain, delusional on meds, but there are things from Florida, I dreamed you said, I suppose. There are things for Hollis that we need to sort too. I don’t know how we figure this out for him.”

I can’t help the half smile that forms. This is Maritza, laying shit out. Another thing I love about her, she wants me to open up.

“Not sure we need to let things get heavy, Zizi.”

She gives me a look from over her mug. “I think shit has been heavy with us for a very long time, Dillon. I think watching your ex-wife die while worrying over your son made things more than heavy between us.”

“The way you are with my son,” I pause and take a pull of my beer, “I’ll never be able to say thank you enough.”

“He’s very special and an important part of my life,” she tells me what I already know.

“Actions, Zizi, they matter. It’s not just Hollis. Even Anna. You gave her support in ways I never could.”

She takes a sip of her tea.

“I loved her once. Or I thought I did. The younger me, the untainted me, had love for her.”

Maritza nods. It’s funny how most people push for more. Maritza never has. She always allows me the freedom to say as little or as much as I care to share. Never pushing for more.

I want more.

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