by Mia Ford
“Then, you found me,” I added, feeling terrible and wishing that I could hold her.
“Don’t worry, I’m not rebounding or anything. I actually haven’t thought about him much at all…And you’re nothing like him, besides you know your way around the woods.”
“And, I can be an asshole?”
“Yes, but at least you admit it,” she answered in somewhat of a teasing tone and I wondered if maybe, somewhere deep inside, she had forgiven me, even a little bit.
“Yeah, well, there’s no point in trying to deny it,” I replied, stepping closer to her, and hoping that my next question was something she could even answer. “So, with everything that happened, after everything that happened, how can you even think about dating, or trusting anyone ever again?”
“It took a while, but his death didn’t affect me in that way. I only wanted to be there to support him, so that he might have lived. I didn’t want to date him, ever again. I took a long time to find myself. I had a good support system…and school helped. It gave me a goal besides marriage and kids. It distracted me, so that I could have fun. Now, I’m sure if that didn’t destroy me, and I survived him killing himself, which was a fear I lived with every day at the end of our relationship, I could figure out a way to make it through pretty much anything. I couldn’t stop my life at twenty-three and even now, I can’t stop my life for anyone. I need to do what I want to do, with the people I want to do it with. I tend to be blunt, but that’s only because I spent so much of my life not saying what I wanted to say, for fear of angering someone. Now, while I don’t mean any harm, I say what’s on my mind. If you don’t like it, too bad.”
I grinned at her, feeling an overwhelming sensation of attraction.
“Hey, Cassie, would you mind if I walked closer with you, down to the ranger’s station?”
She paused for a moment, glancing at the building, that now wasn’t too far away, before looking back at me and putting out her hand.
“Thank you, Johnathan, I would be honored.”
Chapter 21
Carrie
While it had felt good to tell Johnathan my story, as we walked toward the ranger’s station, I was reminded that he might leave.
Yet, the conversation I had with him had also reminded me that if he did, that was okay.
As angry as I was with him before, after sharing my own secret with him, I felt it was silly to continue in anger.
After all, the last thing that I had learned from my ex’s death is that no matter how far you try to put someone behind you, if they meant enough to you, one moment and one instant could bring them right back to the forefront of my mind.
I didn’t want my ex back, but there was a part of me that genuinely blamed myself for his death.
There were a million ways that I thought I could’ve been better to him, helped him more and stayed by his side, though I knew that wasn’t a possibility.
Deep down, I knew there was nothing that I could do. If I had still been with him, I might have been the one who found him, and I would just be starting my journey of self-discovery; that is if he hadn’t dragged me down with me.
While I would’ve liked to think that he wouldn’t have hurt me, really hurt me, I got away from him because he scared me. I remembered at the time, having the thought that if I stayed with him, I could die and that was ultimately what made me leave.
So, if I had stayed, logically, I knew there was a much better chance of him killing me, before taking his own life, then there was of me saving him; though I would never admit it.
Although, being reminded of all this, being brought back there, while explaining what happened to Johnathan had given me the presence of mind to live for the moment. Be in the moment.
When my ex died, I was still angry with him and he knew it. The last thing I had told him was that he was dead to me, when he reached out a couple years before. I was in a bad place, but that wasn’t why I had said it. I had said it so that he would get the hint that the relationship, and any hope of us ever getting back together was gone.
Ultimately, I had said it out of spite and although that was something I was to guilty to ever say to anyone else, that had stuck with me.
I had thought about calling him to apologize, or writing him a letter, but ultimately, I had always thought better of it. I didn’t want him to think that there might be a way for him to wriggle his way back into my heart again and for that, I didn’t regret.
I had more self-respect than that. Yet, I did wish that there was a way I could tell him that I hadn’t meant what I said and that the part of him that I fell in love with, would always remain in my heart.
Therefore, the conversation I had about him with Johnathan reminded me not to make the same mistake; especially to a man who hadn’t hurt me near as bad as my ex had.
If I was going to part ways with him, I wanted to part ways on good terms, with no regrets, and an open invitation, if he ever felt like he could try to assimilate back into society, even if it was for only a day or so.
The conversation I had with Johnathan had also reminded me that these things take time. It had taken mem a long time to be okay with myself, after breaking up with my ex. It was nearly a year before I even wanted to go back to the same places that he frequented, in fear that I would see him, or someone we used to know.
Eventually, that fear subsided though, and I was able to go out and have a good time without looking over my shoulder every minute.
So, I knew that I needed to give Johnathan time. That was the only way he was ever going to make any progress.
I decided to adopt the idea of, it was meant to be, it would be, when it was meant to be; not a second sooner.
Destiny was another thing I knew, mostly because of Kasandra, that you couldn’t force, or run from.
However, when we finally reached the station, I thought it was strange that no one was there.
The building looked more like a lodge than a ranger station, with the attributes of the outside reminding me of the cabin.
I hoped that was a sign that it was another safe space.
Although, the way that it was looking, there wasn’t anyone else around out here. The chimney was unlit and there were no lights on inside the building.
Johnathan and I looked around for a vehicle and knocked on the door, to no avail.
“Hmmmm,” I offered, looking back at Johnathan as he peered inside a window, “Well, I’m here and I’ll be safe. I can handle myself…You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to.”
“Are you kidding? There’s no one here…” he snickered, “You know Jake won’t let me leave.
“Are you sure? I’ll be okay.”
“Positive…” he answered, knocking on the door one last time before entering.
At the sight of benches, I realized how exhausted I was and imped over to one where I could sit down and prop my leg up. The lights were on and it looked like someone was here at some point, recently, judging by the half-drank coffee on the desk, which was scattered with papers.
Across from the desk, there was a radio, which Johnathan used to call the rangers.
There was static at first, after his initial call, but eventually, a man’s voice comes over the radio, informing Johnathan that they are perfectly safe in the station, but it would be a few hours before they can get a vehicle up to them. Apparently, there was a mud slide that affected an area a little further down the mountain and they were having trouble getting trucks across even to clear it.
Johnathan thanked them and told them that we would be here whenever they could get there.
Afterward, he started to look through the shelves, grabbing snacks and water bottles. He tossed two bottles and a couple of bags of chips in my direction. I downed the first bottle before he even had a chance to speak.
“I know this isn’t the best first meal, but it’ll keep you alive until help arrives.”
“This is fine!” I exclaimed, digging into the first bag of chips. “At t
his point, this bench is starting to look appetizing,” I joked, as Johnathan poured some water into a bowl for Jake and gave him some of the chips, before sitting next to me.
The closeness I felt as his arm brushed against me was strangely comforting. I grinned at him and scooted closer.
We enjoyed our chips and water, ravenously, as though it was the best food we had ever tasted.
After barely eating the past few days, though, anything would’ve been a godsend.
Once we had our fill of the junk food, Jonathan asked, “Do you want me to look at your ankle? I’m sure we can find a First Aid Kit around here somewhere. I can splint it properly.”
I shook my head in agreement and offered my leg to him.
Carefully, Johnathan peeled my pant leg back, to reveal a swollen ankle.
“Damn,” he admitted, “I’m glad you were able to make it here.”
“Is it that bad?” I demanded raising my head up to get a better look.
“I’m not sure exactly how bad it was, but the trek we took certainly didn’t help it,” he pressed against it with a small amount of pressure.
“Ouch!” I exclaimed, when it started to hurt.
He focused on my leg as he touched a few more spots, which burned from both the injury and over-using the muscles.
“I don’t think anything is broken, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they want to do an x-ray when you get back to the bottom of the mountain, just to be sure.”
I shook my head in agreement as Johnathan stood up and walked over to the metal cabinet that was standing in the corner.
He disappeared for a moment but returned quickly with a white metal suitcase-looking box, labeled First Aid.
He wrapped my ankle tightly with an Ace bandage, being cautious of the pain it was causing.
Besides feeling like heated pins and needles, once the bandage was secured, the sharp pains and pulsing lessened intensely.
“How’s that?”
“Good,” I answered, not sure if there was a possibility for it to be any better, considering the abuse it had taken the past few days. “It feels much better,” I assured him.
“Great!” Johnathan offered, before growing noticeably quiet.
I allowed the silence for a little while, but eventually, I had to ask what the issue was.
“Nothing,” he shook his head, as though solidifying his response. Everything is fine. I’m…happy we finally made it.”
“But?” I urged, knowing that there had to be more.
“I’m just…I’m sorry, okay? I wish I could give you everything, including the trust that I know you deserve, but I can’t and that bothers me…Especially after everything you’ve been through.”
“Johnathan, I didn’t tell you that to make you feel bad or to pity me,” I explained, covering his hand with my own, “I told you that, with the hope that you will one day realize that there is a way out, even when you can never imagine your life any other way.”
“But I just keep thinking about all the shitty stuff I said to you, when in reality, you probably know far better than I will ever know, how to get over tragedy and move on.”
“I told you all that to help you, that’s it. I learned to move on, because I had to…Because I refused to allow my situation to get the best of me. I want to survive, and I want to thrive. So, whenever I have the urge to give up, the urge I have experienced many times, I fight through it. I do something to change my situation. When I felt threatened by my ex, I moved out. When I heard that he died, I came here, and when the guide…” I willingly let my voice trail off there, still not wanting to think too much about the most current tragedy I experienced.
“You found me and have to deal with my problems?” Johnathan suggested, though his voice was slightly teasing.
“No, I found you. Do you forget all that you did for me?”
“Besides giving you a complex?”
I playfully nudged him, “Trust me, you’re not that crazy. It takes a lot more than falling in love with a relationship-shy, anti-social mountain man to give me a complex,” I chuckled. “But seriously, Johnathan, after everything that happens, I find a way to move on and eventually persevere. Even after shit hits the fan, there is life and happiness after. I promise, you just have to be willing to receive it.”
He thought about this for a moment, before he shook his head, “I just don’t know how you do it.”
“I don’t either,” I admitted. “It’s not like I wake up one day and decide this is the day I’m going to get over whatever it is. For instance, I have a lot to still get over from…What happened with the guide. There’s parts of that I may never get over.”
I thought about the severity of that statement and how there was a good possibility that I would never be able be truly alone ever again. Regardless of what Johnathan said, I will always be looking over my shoulder, worrying about whether he is standing there, waiting for me.
Having made it to the station, even without anyone there, I was surprised that nothing had happened.
I was extremely relieved that we had all made it safely and that no one was threatened, but I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to know what happened to the man and I wanted to know that he wouldn’t be coming after me.
However, I guessed that was one luxury I would never be provided. The second-best thing is never having to see him again, but that wouldn’t stop the worry.
I was terrified of him and there was nothing I could do to assuage that fear.
“Come on, Carrie,” Johnathan insisted, scooting even closer to me, as if trying to prove that he was there to help me through whatever was bothering me.
However, he wasn’t going to be there. He was going to go back to my life and I was going to go back to mine. The only thing he was promising me was something he couldn’t possibly guarantee.
Still, I didn’t bring any of this up, considering I was genuinely trying to part without any issues.
I didn’t want that guilt.
So, I grinned at him and asked, “What do you mean? Come on, Carrie?”
“You can’t let that asshole get the best of you. You’ve been through too much. You’re too strong a person to be forced into a corner like that. You can’t let this man rule you. You are going to get over this, just like you got over everything else.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, humored by his unwavering faith in me; even if he didn’t trust me as far as he could throw me. “How do you know that?”
“I have to!” He exclaimed, “If you can’t then, there’s no hope for me.”
I giggled and teased, “Oh, I should’ve know this ultimately had to do with you.”
“I told you, Carrie, I’m a selfish bastard. You’re much better without me.”
Shaking my head, I refused to feed his negative comments. “You know what, Johnathan? I don’t think you are a selfish bastard. I don’t think you’re an asshole and I don’t think I’m better without you. I disagree with you, three for three. You are wrong, but you’re none of the things you think you are.”
“Yeah, okay,” he insisted, chuckling.
“Can I tell you how I feel without you going all crazy on me?”
“Oh, so now you think I go crazy?” He snickered.
“Johnathan, you know damn well that you go crazy. That’s not debatable. What I want is permission to speak freely with the hope that we can curb your crazy?”
“Sure, why the hell not?”
“Good,” I insisted, thinking about exactly what I was going to say, so that I could make sure I got my point across accurately. “I don’t think you are any of those things. I think, you want to be those things. I think you try to be those things, because if you were an asshole, selfish or bad for me, it would be so much easier to let me go. But, you don’t actually feel that way, which is what makes this so hard for you to accept.”
Johnathan didn’t respond at first and I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake by telling him any of how I felt, but eventually, I realized that he wa
sn’t brooding, he was thinking. I watched his eyes shine over in thought before he finally nodded, looking back to me after serious contemplation, “That’s definitely a possibility. You’re pretty smart.”
“No, you’re just painfully easy to read,” I retorted in a playful manner.
“You know, you’re the first person to ever tell me that. Everyone else said that I was an enigma and that there was no way to tell how I would react…Everyone, including Sarah and my parents.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped short, again trying to judge weather or not my question was worth pursuing. Eventually, I decided to give it a shot.
“Johnathan, is that where you became convinced that you were all those horrible things? You said you were the black sheep of the family…”
“Yeah, come to think about it. My brother was always the golden child and I was…John, the troublemaker, or, when I got older and more frustrating, John, the asshole. They didn’t understand me, so they decided that must be why.” At this, he stood up and started to pace around, trying to focus on everything but the conversation he and I were having.
I gave him some space before saying anything else, but eventually offered, “You know, sometimes, people say things because they are guilty…Subconsciously. They know that they are one way, or act a certain way toward people, so instead of blaming themselves, they justify their thoughts by making the other person the bad guy.”