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Can’t Let Go of This Dream

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From the Prologue

She sighed and moved her right hand to her left breast. Form over function some might say. She turned her head to the side and faced the dim light of the numbers on the clock; the only light in an otherwise darkened room. And no light for a darkened soul; shadows of doubt and shame cast over her like a smothering blanket. She began to sob; no modulation as her body began to shake the bed as yet another night of sad reminders of what could never be tore at her heart. And it was a morning once again of what would always be. She was only good enough.

Under your spell again.
I can't say no to you.
Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand.
I can't say no to you.

Denville Medical Practice, an afternoon in late October…

“Kara? What’s going on?” The woman wheeled her chair from behind the desk and scooted over; shaking her head with a half-frown. She wasn’t angry so much as disappointed that the girl… woman actually, was struggling so much with life that she appeared almost disheveled.

“Nothing.” Her voice was flat and nearly emotionless but for the slight sigh that literally escaped her lips. She looked away and shook her head slightly.

“Come on. Give!” Patti mirrored the head shake, but with a smile that invited and welcomed warmly. Apart from her brother’s family, Patti was probably the only person Kara felt safe enough with to open up. She kept quiet; even warm and welcoming can fail on occasion. Patti sidled closer; the casters of the chair squeaking loudly. Kara went to move away, but her chair was pinned against the built-in shelf on the wall behind her. Patti eyed Kara’s wrists; the bruises had almost faded away, but still gave enough witness to what shouldn’t have been.

“I’m fine, Patti. Just let it go!”

“Nope! I can’t! And I won’t.” The finality of the words was softened by the near sad expression on Patti’s face; evidence of stubborn care and commitment for her friend.

“You deserve better than this!” She pointed to the marks on Kara’s arms, but her words went deeper than that, so to speak, as she stared into Kara’s eyes. Windows to the soul? An almost vacant look seemed to glow dimly from behind her eyes but for the tears that welled up. A plea to keep trying…to keep asking; as if she needed help to speak the truth. Patti grabbed both of Kara’s hands gently and rubbed the backs with her thumbs.

“I’m so worried about you, honey.”

She breathed out and paused. Kara blinked back her tears and turned away; still nearly silent while desperately wishing for a voice of her own. A marionette on her own stage, she was manipulated and pulled and pushed and even spoken for; silenced by the words of everyone but her own. Some without her permission, but many from one with her approval, as if in agreement, but more in helpless defeat. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

“I don’t know what to do, and I guess that’s going to have to be okay. But you need to know you deserve so much more than what he’s…. You don’t deserve to be hurt, Kara! I mean it. You’re such a good kid.”

Kara was nearly twenty-seven, but coming from a fifty-six year old grandmother of four, Patti’s words rang almost reluctantly true. Something remained inside her soul that sought to debate the truth of her own worth; as if by arguing she would prove the point every condemning word her parents uttered. Every act of abuse and every moment of neglect and every time her innocence had been stripped from her like being emotionally flayed.

And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall.
Pour real life down on me.
'Cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough.
Am I good enough for you to love me too?

Kara’s apartment, Rockaway, New Jersey, the following Monday…

There’s an old saying about forgetting what you look like after walking away from a mirror. Everything almost seemed lost as Kara’s self esteem faded quickly as she looked around her apartment. It was her apartment, wasn’t it? It was her name on the lease; her hard-earned cash paid the rent? But everything shouted ‘him’ instead of her. Even if he chose to dwell elsewhere, the décor reflected his taste. She almost felt like a bit player in her own life story but for the huge part she played in the latest act….

“You knew this wasn’t forever.” No sympathy at all; he shoved her rudely aside with his words as casually as he might discard an old jacket. She wanted to nod in agreement; she had never meant to fall in love with him, and yet here she was clinging desperately to each breath he exhaled; as if he might change his mind in mid-sentence.

“And don’t bother crying.” He spat the words out like a drill sergeant giving an order. She stood up and grew light-headed. Reaching over, she steadied herself by leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom. She looked back at the bed; the rumpled sheets the only evidence he had been there and a sad reminder that she had once again let him have his way.

“You gonna be okay?” It might have meant something if he had turned to face her rather than continue jamming his clothes into a large duffle. She went to reply, but there wasn’t any point in speaking to his back. Their whole relationship seemed to be based on that position; a way of ignoring her even as she cuddled against him every night. Things had gotten cold long before the season changed, and what should have been a place of warmth and refuge for both of them had become as icy as his heart.

He turned and faced her; the reluctance already spreading across his face, he stepped closer and kissed her. Too personal for a sad departure, but he didn’t really care about how she felt. He stepped away, shrugging his shoulders, as if it wasn’t his fault that he was insensitive and selfish. A moment later she was alone, still clinging to the doorway for support. She slid down slowly, her hands almost clawing at the wood until she sat awkwardly on the floor. One last glance at the empty bed and she dissolved into tears…

The Cameron home, Roxbury, New Jersey, Tuesday evening…

“K? Do you think you’d like to come over for dinner? Jimmy asks about his favorite Aunt all the time,” Jim Sr. smiled. Apart from him and his wife Nams, no one else in the family understood or accepted Kara since her transition. It would have made some difference had her mother been there for her, but with all the years of enabling the abusive behavior of Kara’s and Jim’s father, there had been such a gulf between mother and children that even sorrow and apologies failed to span. She felt a soft touch on her elbow; one of the few places she could abide sudden and unannounced contact.

“Người yáªu? I know it’s been hard on you. Come over Friday and we’ll just kick back and relax.” Kara flinched ever so slightly, but enough to send a signal. Nams rubbed her arm. Kara was likely the only person in the world who didn’t know she was a sweetheart, but Nams kept after her.

“Maybe Sunday afternoon instead?” Kara forced a smile.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She looked out the window, as if she could see all the way across town to her apartment. Maybe he changed his mind. She’d go home and find him lying on the couch watching TV. Comfortable.

“Honey? No worries; just think about it and let me know. Either way, you’ve always got a place here at our table.” It was almost a hybrid phrase; an amalgam of good and bad, since the truth of the words comforted with their concern while stinging from the reminder that their table was the only place of welcome in her life. She nodded reflexively even as she grabbed her purse.

“Tell Jimmy I’m sorry I missed his game?” She sighed. Too many good things were left wanting or unattended while she waited for mediocre to commit or at least give a vague notion of a promise to her life.

“Why don’t you come over Saturday morning; we can all go to Jimmy’s game together and maybe out to The Quiet Man afterwards? Or maybe Thatcher McGees? Our treat?”

“I don’t know…” She paused at the door. She shrugged before walking out the front door and down the driveway to her car.

“I’ll give you a call later in the week, okay?” Nams shouted out just before Kara pulled away. She walked back and into Jim’s welcoming hug.

“Nice try, Babe…” He kissed her forehead and stared out the front window as Kara’s car disappeared around the corner. A deep baritone sigh blended with a sad mezzo gasp.

“How did you turn out so good?” A reasonable question met with another sigh.

“I didn’t have to deal with nearly as much hurt as her. And what I did have to deal with I guess I was blessed, since she ran interference for me with Dad all the time. Took so much from him….” He bit his lip as tears fell.

“It’s not your fault, tá¬nh yáªu của em…" She pulled him close and kissed him.

“I know…it’s taken me this long to figure that out. Maybe she’ll figure out it wasn’t hers, either.” He kissed her back and nuzzled her neck before her arms became strong for him as he wept.

That Sunday afternoon…

“I’m so glad you came, K.” Nams hugged her sister-in-law with a hold that seemed to say so much more than just welcome; an infusion of appreciation and acceptance long over-due from other sources. Kara pulled back just a bit; the disengagement was attempting its daily insistence to remind Kara just how unworthy she was. Nams would have none of that, and held tight to Kara.

“Aunt Kara!” The loud cheer came from the stairs. Jimmy stood on the steps and waved as if he was cheering her on. He ran down the stairs and into her arms with a nice thud. She pulled him close.

“I missed you. You didn’t come to my game, but Mommy said you weren’t feeling well.” The boy was as forgiving and welcoming as anyone you might meet. Even at eleven, he was nearly as tall as Kara and stood a wee bit over his mother.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I promise….” Kara paused. She hated disappointing him, but her daily battle with depression threatened any activity beyond walking into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat; and that was when she remembered. It was hard, even with medication and therapy, but it still had to be pushed aside like any other roadblock. Even work was a struggle; albeit with some hefty support by Patti. She existed only to work, which fueled her existence, allowing her to work, et cetera, et cetera…..

“I’ll make sure I’m at your next game.” She said with a half-frown.

“Don’t you want to come?” The boy pled. She shook her head; a wave of preemptive guilt nearly bowling her over. But she smiled.

“Sometimes I don’t feel good enough, honey.” Oddly, her turn of phrase spoke exactly to the problem. Everything she listened to…everything she had heeded and absorbed from her past and her present and even her anticipated dismal future made her feel inadequate to any task beyond work, which was a task in and of itself.

“Mommy says you take medicine. Does it help?” The boy smiled.

“Yes. Most of the time.” It would have been difficult if not downright impossible to admit that to any other human on the planet, but the boy was without guile, as they say, and his endearing smile enabled her to be herself, if that makes sense.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel so good, sometimes. Maybe I can come visit you when you’re not feeling well?” Jimmy put his head down; now who was feeling unworthy?

“Oh, Jimmy. That would be just great…wonderful.” She turned her head, feeling selfish and ashamed. Nams rubbed her arm and spoke softly,

“Cảm Æ¡n bạn…. I know how hard it is for you.” Nams hugged Kara once again before pointing to the kitchen. A moment later they were joined by Jim.

“Hey, sis.” At the words, Kara turned and faced him. Between Nams and Jimmy and Jim, her acceptance meter had registered ‘overflow,’ and she began to cry. Nams walked her over to the kitchen table and helped her into the chair. She put her head down on the table and continued to weep.

“Is Aunt Kara not feeling okay again?” Jimmy asked even as he put his head down on the table next to her, staring into her tear-stained eyes. She smiled weakly and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight.

“No, Jimmy…. I think she’s feeling just fine.” Jim said as he rubbed Kara’s back. Nams smiled and nodded.

“Khá´ng sao Ä‘á¢u, Jimmy! It’s okay!”

Shouldn't let you conquer me completely.
Now I can't let go of this dream.
Can't believe that I feel...
Good enough,
I feel good enough.
It's been such a long time coming, but I feel good.

Next: Completely Lost

Good Enough
Words and music by
Amy Lee
As performed by
Evanescence
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19V-GhZlDGU