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So, after a long moment of silence, I decided I would tell him and see if it made a difference, “It just seems…strange. I mean, it’s just a shirt, but looking at it makes me angry and sad.” I stared down at the shirt, trying to find the right words to explain my feelings. “Part of me, is angry and never wants to see it again, because it was with me when it happened, but part of me, feels like this isn’t even my shirt.”
Johnathan nodded, “That’s because it isn’t. Not really. Not anymore.”
My eyes cautiously, wandered over to meet his gaze, wondering if he was going to springboard his comment into some cruel joke, but to my surprise, he was staring right back with a serious expression.
Leaning in closer to me, Johnathan folded his hands in front of him and spoke slowly, as though he was contemplating what he as saying, before forming it into words.
“When people go through traumatic events, especially like what you went through, it changes them. People can say that it doesn’t but they’re full of shit. They either become stronger, or they succumb to it, but either way, they are never the person they were before it happened. So, it makes sense that you don’t feel like yourself. Unfortunately, you might never feel like yourself ever again…At least not the way you felt before last night.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like this was the first bad thing to ever happen in my life,” I admitted, as a thought crossed my mind about why I had come out here in the first place.
Johnathan shrugged, “Yeah, but when that other stuff happened, you had other people, other familiar things to hold on to. Now, you have a fucking shirt. That shirt didn’t protect you. It didn’t help you. Hell, you weren’t even wearing it when it happened, so it didn’t even go through the ordeal with you. It did nothing for you, but right now, that is all you have of your old life to hold on to.”
I contemplated what he said for a moment, internalizing the advice he was giving me, before I turned to him and asked, “So, what do I do?”
“That’s entirely up to you, Carrie. You can hold onto it, pull strength from who you were through it, or you can burn it,” he shrugged, “Not that I care what you do about it, but I would hold onto it for a little while, if I were you, because these are all the clothes you have left.” He sighed and then asked, as though we hadn’t shared any kind of a moment, “So, are you hungry, by any chance?”
At first, I was caught off guard by the abrupt change in subject, considering it felt as though we were garnishing something of a connection. He was genuinely trying to help me. His advice was solid, and it gave me the impression that he knew what I was talking about.
Obviously, he had something screwed up happen to him. I thought but was still impressed by the idea that he was able to put it into words. Most men either wouldn’t do that or were simply incapable of such a feat.
“Yes, I am pretty hungry, actually,” I eventually replied, once again realizing the sensation as soon as it was suggested to me. Despite the randomness, he did have a point. It was time to eat, so I guessed that was his way of staving off having such a meaningful conversation.
I was okay with that.
“Good. I’m glad you have an appetite,” with that, Johnathan turned toward the fire and took the same pot off the stove, pouring the contents into two bowls. “Sorry about the food. I make stuff in bulk and eat it until it’s gone. There’s really no great refrigeration system up here, without electricity.”
Just like that, my therapy session was over.
“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, as he handed me one of the bowls, “It tastes good and I’m starving.”
For a while, we ate in silence. I wanted to speak to him, especially since it seemed like he was far more open to the prospect of hav
ing a normal conversation. However, I wasn’t quite sure what to say.
So, instead of speaking, I focused on him, while trying to avoid being overly creepy or weird.
Whenever he wasn’t looking, I would study his face and his mannerisms. I could tell right away, that he hadn’t always lived up here. He knew how to live among people. He wasn’t socially awkward.
Actually, I found that he was fairly confident. Everything he did, he had a reason. I wasn’t sure why I knew this or thought this about him, but I was certain that I was right.
Through my spying, I also noticed that under the roughness of the man who lived in the mountains, there is something normal and traditionally attractive about him. He wore his mountain man look well but I guessed that underneath all of that hair and tattered clothing, there was a truly astonishingly striking man.
I thought about the dream and my cheeks reddened, not wanting to admit that the more time I spent with him, the more interested I became in knowing him.
“You were right, you know,” I finally spoke when, halfway through the meal, the silence was getting overwhelmed by my own, confused thoughts.
“About what, exactly?” Johnathan peered up from his bowl and locked eyes with me before the corner of his lip twitched up in a grin and his eyes sparkled with humor, “I’m right quite a lot. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”
I chuckled, more out of shock that he had made a joke, and shook my head, deciding to continue with the conversation I felt we needed to have.
“You were right about me coming out here all by myself. It was a stupid thing to do and guide or not, you’re right; being up here all alone with a man I didn’t know was really fucking stupid.”
Johnathan didn’t respond right away, but the look in his eye made me regret bringing it up again.
“I’m trying to apologize. I’m sorry for the way I reacted,” I answered, “I was just defensive, because I know it was stupid. I knew it was stupid when I was doing it and if I didn’t, my friends certainly told me enough times before I left.”
“But, you’re stubborn. You wanted to do it, so you were willing to take whatever risk you needed to take?” Johnathan hissed, sounding as though even my apology was upsetting him.
