Page 20 of The Soul that Redeems Me
“Dr. Sawyer told me if I want something from you, I have to tell you or show you. I feel the safest when you and I are on the couch and every night, I come to bed and crawl into this empty bed, feeling empty inside. Now, I feel full, overflowing full, and I want to share that feeling with you. I feel like we are ready to share a bed, even if I’m not ready to move past what we did tonight, yet. I trust you and I really want to fall asleep in your arms. Am I making any sense?”
“You are making perfect sense, baby. Dr. Sawyer encouraged you to tell me more about what you want and feel. Tonight, you decided you were ready to open yourself up to me and for that, I am forever thankful. Having you express that you are ready to share a bed, to me, is a dream come true. But only if you are one hundred percent positive. And if you change your mind, I’ll go back to my room. Whatever you need, Emily. Anything to make you happy.”
“It’s not just aboutmyhappiness, Josh. It’s about what makesushappy. I know it may seem quick but I’ve been in counseling for years. Hoping to have a breakthrough in my…issues. Over the last few months, I have begun to feel like the old me again. Someone who’s not scared and anxious all the time and part of that is because of you. Today, we reduced my therapy sessions to once a week and I’m tapering myself off the Xanax, with her approval. I don’t want to need medication to function but I’ll take them as long as I must to get better. I want to be better. For me. For you. For us. I want to move past that one day and let it not be the defining moment of my life. There are too many other things that I want to experience and I can’t if I’m still living in the pain every day. You are helping me move past that pain and I’m ready for this if you are. What do you say, Josh? Are you willing to give it a try, for one night at least? If I snore, you can always go back to your bed.” She laughed, lightening the mood, causing my heart to flutter.
Emily had made so many strides in one day, I was curious about where she would end up when she finished her road to recovery. I had noticed her improved mood and upbeat personality more lately. I had lunch last week with Maddie, Lucas, and Caroline and they had all remarked how happier Emily seemed recently.
Maddie and Caroline had reminisced on the‘old’Emily and how much she was acting like her former, outgoing self. Lucas gave me a subtle nod, letting me know, without words, that he was happy about the newfound Emily. He and I had become great friends over the last year and I was happy to see he approved of my relationship with her. He and Andrew had given me the same threats that I had given them over Maddie and Caroline, only Andrew really will kill me if I break his sister’s heart.
Not that I would ever hurt Emily. At least, not intentionally.
Leaning over to kiss her one more time, I laughed, “Well, which side of the bed do you sleep on?”
“The left side,” she giggled, with a smile on her face.
“Let me grab my pillow and I’ll be right back. Do you need to change or is that what you sleep in?” looking down at her sleep shorts and a tank top, her pebbled nipples visible through the material.
“These are my pajamas but I can put something else on if there is a problem.” She began to fidget her hands.
“What you have on is perfect, baby.” My voice grew deeper and my eyes tracked up and down her curvy body before landing on her beautiful face.
“Okay.” She answered before she got up and began to pull the covers back and straighten the bed.
I walked into my room and picked up my pillow, eyeing Jake sprawled out across my king-sized bed. “Lazy dog.” I smirked in his direction, his head popped up to look over his shoulder at me before tucking back in and rolling onto his back, his belly on full display.
I walked back into Emily’s room and she had the sheets pulled back for me and the small lamp on her end table turned on, giving the entire room a warm, soft glow that highlighted her hazel eyes and made them dance in the near darkness. I placed my pillow down and crawled into bed, extending my arm across the king-sized bed.
She turned off her lamp and rolled toward me, her small body curving into mine, her head rested on my chest and my arm wrapped around her body, molding her to me. With a deep exhale, I looked up at the ceiling and gave thanks for this simple chance to hold the love of my life in my arms. It wasn’t a few minutes later I felt her body weight increase slightly and her breathing even out, indicating she had fallen asleep.
I glanced at the clock and realized it was only eleven o’clock. This time, a little over a year ago, I would have been getting ready to head to a club to see if I could pick upMiss Right Now.Now, I’m lying here, tucked in for sleep, no sex in sight… and I couldn’t be happier.
I’d been sharing a bed with Emily for under a week when it happened. She faced away from me and in the middle of the night I heard her begin to whimper. I gently reached toward her, hoping to settle her when the thrashing started. I switched on the bedside lamp and softly talked to her as I reached out and began to stroke her head, hoping my touch would settle her bad dream.
The words coming from her mouth as she fought her invisible demons broke my heart.‘Stop”and“No’were repeated over and over again in a soft voice, barely audible. Her head began to whip back and forth and she was fighting the covers, trying to get them off her. I couldn’t take her pain anymore, so I began to shake her, repeating her name and whispering words of affection, telling her how much I loved her before she snapped out of her nightmare and stared up at me, a look of horror on her face.
I gently moved the hair off her face and stroked her head, looking down at her as she struggled to catch her breath. The look she gave me was a hard one to decipher. It was a mix of shame, embarrassment, and relief.
“I’m sorry.” She looked away and reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, baby. Are you okay? Do you feel like talking about it?”
“I thought I was getting better. I haven’t had a nightmare in almost a month and now they decide to start again. Will they ever stop?” She asked through tears as she sat up and I pulled her into my lap, her body nestling into mine as I rocked her back and forth, whispering how much I loved her and how strong she was.
“Let’s go into the kitchen and make you something to drink. I’ll tell you a story, something that may help. I don’t know if it will but would you be willing to listen?” I asked her, wanting to get her out of the bed and away from the memories that haunt her when she sleeps.
She nodded her head, so we walked to the kitchen, hand in hand, as Jake popped his head up to see where we were going, then went back to sleep on Emily’s side of the room, peacefully snoring once again.
After making us both a cup of hot chocolate, we sat down and looked out at the city, the storm clouds starting to roll in. The view outside was as dreary as the emotions in the apartment. I knew she was reeling from the nightmare, and her shame over me witnessing it was something she was going to have to get past.
I am here for the long haul and I will hold her through every nightmare and slay every demon she has. I had a little experience with this part of depression and mental illness so I began to tell her my story.
“You remember I told you about my biological mom and her long line of abusive boyfriends?” she nodded into the room so I continued, “Up until I was eight years old if things got too bad at home or she ran off with another loser, I went to my Granny’s house. She was an amazing lady. Always made sure I had a stable environment and she even petitioned the courts to give her guardianship of me. Because of her age, they refused and it wasn’t long after that she passed away, a heart attack when she was on the way home from the grocery store. Mom and I went to the funeral and I felt like my world was over. The one stable person in my life was gone and I was so scared about what was going to happen to me. Where would I go when—not if—my Mom was admitted into the hospital again? The first time was six months after granny died. It seemed like, for a while, she was really trying to get her act together. We moved into granny’s house since she left it to me in her will and it was like we were a real family. No crazy, drunk assholes. Just Mom and me. I came home one day from school and I knew things had turned bad. The entire house was trashed, as in drawers emptied, couch flipped over, dishes on the floor kind of trashed.”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts before I started again, all the while, Emily hadn’t said a word, only listened to my tale of woe with compassion, her eyes staring out the glass door, watching the rain begin to fall.
“At first, I thought we had been robbed, then I saw my mother and I knew things were going to get bad. She had the crazed look in her eyes that she had when she was off her meds or doing drugs, probably both. She saw me and ran toward me, talking fast about how much money we could make working at flea markets on the weekends. The mess was from her looking for things to sell. She began to drag furniture out into the yard and she yelled at me to help her. It didn’t matter that it was freezing outside and she had no shoes on. She needed to get everything prepped when her latest boyfriend showed up to load the items in his truck. The neighbors next door saw what was going on and they called the police. When they arrived, Mom was placed on a 72-hour hold and I was placed with the Department of Family and Children Services. I begged them not to take me but since there wasn’t anyone else at the house to take care of me, I had to go to a foster home until she was able to come and get me.”
I felt my palms sweating so I wiped them on my pants and stood up, needing to move while I finished my story. I found myself by the glass doors leading to the balcony. Looking out at the rain as it fell, I willed myself to tell her the one truth I have kept from everyone but my parents. I told them a few years after they adopted me and I started seeing a counselor shortly after that to handle my anger issues.
“The first night I was there, I cried all night, wanting to go back home. I wanted my Mom, even if she was delusional.” Placing my hand on the glass, tracking the sliding raindrops down the pane of glass, I felt the words start to tumble out. “The second night I was there, their teenage son came into my room. At first, I didn’t understand what he was doing in my room. That was their rule, everyone in their own room at night. They only had a few foster kids at a time and they had a huge house. Their room was on one side and all the kid’s rooms were on the other. He…he crawled into my bed and began to touch me, intimately. I was barely nine years old and I was already feeling the stirrings that come with puberty so when I, well, he…”
I felt her small hand come up to my back and she gently rubbed me, allowing her strength to speak without a word. I leaned my head against the cool glass and looked out onto the city.
“I knew it was wrong to let him touch me but it felt good, in a strange way. He had me touch him but I got scared and tried to stop, to tell him no. He took my refusal as a sign to take what he wanted so he forced me to perform…”
“Stop, baby. You don’t have to tell me anything else.” She said with tears choking her voice.
“He came into my room for almost two weeks while my mother was evaluated, medicated, and deemed fit to take care of me. Every night, he made me do that to him and he would do it to me, never anything more. I felt dirty and used but I still let it happen. I wanted him to stop but he came back night after night, always demanding I do it again and I never fought back. After my Mom was able to get me, I told the social worker who told me that ‘I must be mistaken about what happened.’ I didn’t tell my Mom because it would have sent her on a spiral and I had just gotten her back. After that, I hid from the social worker or just took off when I saw the lights of the cop cars coming. I knew where they would take her and I would follow, sometimes having to steal for bus fare. I was determined to not go back into the foster system. And for years after, I had nightmares. Each one a vivid retelling of what happened and it was only after I told my parents what occurred, did they get better. I know you talk to Dr. Sawyer but you can talk to me. I promise I understand.” I finished as she wrapped her arms around my waist and we held each other. The truth was out and we allowed the tears to continue as the rain fell, washing away the night and ushering in a new day.
