a n i m a

halcyon

                It was when I found out that he was using, that I had to leave.

                I ran to our room, forcing myself not to cry as I packed my life into a tiny duffel bag and said goodbye to the only man I’d ever loved. I slung it over my shoulder, shoving my feet in my shoes and sprinting towards the door so I could make it to my sister’s before I fell apart. But just as I opened the door, he stopped me.

                I turned to him, looking up into his dull, glazed-over eyes and I searched—so hard—for Derrick. For his carefree smile and vivid eyes. But he was gone. Lost.

                “Derrick, don’t,” I had pleaded, my voice thick with unshed tears as I avoided his eyes.

                “You can’t leave. You’re not leaving,” he muttered, shaking his head. He began to pace, running his hands over his face roughly as his eyes slowly filled with outrage.

                “Yes, I am,” I whispered, “I have to go.”

                “You are not going!” he shouted, stopping in the middle of the room before his eyes snapped to mine. They were crazed. And I felt a lurking fear descend upon me, causing me to step slowly towards the door, hoping he couldn’t hear the furious beat of my heart.

                “Derrick.” He charged, running towards me and slapping me right across the face. The blow was so quick, so hard, and so shocking, I fell to the floor, my body trembling. The pain didn’t fully register at first, due to the raging incredulity. But as I looked up at him, his eyes glaring, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling rapidly, I felt it.

                I cried out in pain, gripping my cheek and feeling the sensitive skin carefully. I was heartbroken and scared and hurting so badly, but it was only the beginning.

                It took two years for me to get away from him. To wait until I had enough money to take the first bus out of there and not let him find out.

                The Derrick I knew was gone, and I wanted nothing more than to be free of him.

                On April 3rd, 2010, I feigned illness and called off work. Derrick had declared he was going out and told me not to wait up. And as soon as I heard the deadbolt—click—I grabbed my stuff and ran.

                The bus was filled with people, each holding their own story. I wondered if any of them would understand why I was here. Why I was running from the person who had been my happiness for so long. But as I glanced around, I knew I would never know. Because talking about what happened to me would only reopen my scars.

                And so I stayed silent, taking busses and trains until I made it to Alaska. I was young and alone and completely broke, but I was free. And it felt so damn good.

                I’ve adapted now, built a wardrobe full of sweaters and windbreakers and boots. And I’ve fallen in love with life again. Not only did Derrick take away my free will, but as he slowly died inside, he took me with him. I missed the way it felt to smile and laugh and share stories and fall in love.

                I had a new home and a new start and my sister even dragged my mother up here every so often. Even though she stayed in the house the entire time, in front of a fire and draped in blankets I was happy I had them.

                I walked down through town, my boots crunching the ice as I trekked and my nose red from the frigid wind. The past was heavy and time had yet to heal all of my wounds, but I smiled as the birds chirped and my neighbors waved because although I had thought Derrick had made me happy, I had not known true happiness until I got here.

                It was then that I saw Brandon exiting the hardware store, his hands filled with bags and the receipt hanging out of his mouth. A grin broke out across my face and despite the brisk world around me, I felt warm.

                He turned my way, no doubt ready to walk back to our place and fix the leaking sink, but as soon as he saw me, a smile the size of mine covered his face and caused the receipt to flitter to the ground. He dropped the bags, leaving them in the snow and running towards me. I closed my eyes in anticipation, clenching my fists and waiting for him to make it to me.

                And when he did, he gathered me into his arms, picking me up from the ground and spinning me around. When he sat me down, my laughter was light and my breathing was rushed, but before I could say anything, he began kissing me. My nose, my forehead, my cheeks, causing me to wiggle against his chest and my cackling laughter to echo throughout the street.

                “Do you have to do this every time we see each other?” I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

                “Well, Aimee, I just don’t think a simple ‘hello’ will suffice,” he returned, fixing his toboggan and taking my hand.

                We walked back to the bags and he lifted them from the ground, fighting with the wind to get the receipt. And as I watched him, his eyes bright and playful and his flushed cheeks wearing the tips of his ever-present smile, I knew that everything I had gone through had been for the best. Because Brandon was the greatest person I had ever known, and he had listened when I told him my story. He took care of me and loved me and protected me. He was mine and I was his, and we trusted one another.

                “What are you staring at?” he teased, raising his eyebrows in accusation before wrapping his arm around my waist.

                “Nothing.”

                “I mean, if you think I’m that attractive-”

                “I’m just lucky, is all,” I interjected, looking up at him with laughter in my eyes. He stopped, pulling me closer to him and staring down at me in a dumbfounded sort of way. He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine and filling me with this feeling—it swirled and spun in my stomach, making my insides tickle and my heart thump. It was safety and love and freedom and peace all mixed into one feeling of absolute bliss.

                “You took the words right from my mouth.”

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