As an up-and-coming social media influencer, Sadie Dwyer has had enough of the expectations thrust upon her and is finally ready to start living life on her own terms. Goodbye cushy corporate finance job, goodbye Los Angeles, and hello fresh start...
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When I opened my eyes on April 22nd, I immediately snapped them shut again. Groaning, I rolled over in my bed, pulling a pillow over my head as though that would shield me from reality.
Dealing with the atrocity that was the end of my career in the marines was rough on a regular day. The flashbacks and emotions typically stayed floating around in the back of my head. Sure, there were the nightmares that popped up once and a while, the phantom pain I dealt with in my leg, and the fact I tried to steer clear of loud spaces and surprises. But on this day—the anniversary of the worst day—everything tended to compound on itself. The flood gates tore open and left me to stew in the pain of it all.
Of losing my career. Of losing my leg. Of losing my best friend.
It was a day that always crept up on me, and this year almost felt worse than the others because after six years, it finally felt like I was allowing myself to move on. To take a step forward away from the tragedies of the past.
Yet I was pulled back by the clutches of despair once again.
I laid there for what felt like an hour—eyes clenched shut and my whole body tense—trying to quiet my brain. I tried to push past the pain that started creeping up my leg and just breathe.
And while it helped marginally, it didn't help enough. When I finally rolled out of bed, wincing as I stood up, I glanced at my phone on my nightstand to see one unread message from Finn.
I know today's going to be a rough one for you, so don't worry about the bar. I've got a handle on things. I'm here if you want to talk though.
There was no response I could give that didn't sound ungrateful, but I also knew that while Finn tried to stay out of my business, he also kept a watchful eye on me when things took a turn for the worse. So, after a simple thumbs up to acknowledge the message, I finally made a move to get ready for the day.
It definitely took longer than usual on account of me sluggishly moving my way about the house, and when I finally got my bearings, I didn't head out on my usual run. Because even if I pushed myself to the brink today, there was no getting rid of or hiding from the emotions that clawed their way to the surface. They were raw and impossible to ignore.
Instead, I pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, dawned a light jacket, and grabbed two beers from the fridge before making my way to the one place I always visited on this day.
The cemetery.
Driving across town, it was a paradox of sorts having to pull my sunglasses on because of the clear, bright skies. Seattle was so often drab and dreary—which would've been an accurate backdrop for today's mood—but instead, the weather was a sharp contrast to the feelings inside my head. There were no raindrops pelting against the windshield or grey clouds darkening the sky, only sunshine.
At the very least, it was nice to not need an umbrella as I parked my car and got out, weaving through the rows upon rows of headstones until I came to the one with Dawson's name etched across it.
